#fucked up little trust fund boy? check

[visforvengeance]

pepsi cola

requested by: abbbbsolutely no one lmao

notes: hey y'all. so this has been sitting in my docs since challengers came out and I just finished like at 5 am this morning. i have 2 or 3 other wips for challengers too lmao. but pls absolutely no hate to tashi. i love mean women ok ok.

warnings: alla them. cursing, significant age gap, cheating, double penetration, pleasedontmakemeincludeeverynastythingiwrote, just please read at your own risk!!!

song

you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head for the 6th time this class period. if you didn’t need this course to graduate, you wouldn’t be here. there was 20 minutes left until you could leave and go practice with your incredibly attractive tennis coaches, the famous art donaldson and patrick zweig. your father had been a big fan of tennis, even partaking in a few lessons in high school. so, when he found out that you’d be playing in college, he was elated. 

as tennis was a big part of your life, there’s no way you didn’t know about art, patrick, and tashi. you’d been to a few of their games, even met them once. how you got two of the best tennis players in the country as your fucking tennis coaches bewildered you. they’d been teaching since your freshman year of college. let them tell it, they found you through one of your games, saw the potential you had, and wanted to teach you how to be the best that they knew you could be. 

that was only the partial truth, though. they did find you through your games, but to be honest, they didn’t really give a fuck about how well you played. they were really just two pervy old men who happened to stumble across you. something about you made them want you. they had to have you. art battled with his attraction towards you, he was a family man. and, old enough to be your father. but, he couldn’t help himself when he watched the way your tennis skirt flew up in the wind. some days you’d be wearing shorts and other days you weren’t. either way, he loved seeing the plumpness of your ass. 

patrick, on the other hand, fully embraced it. he nearly came from the feeling of your ass pressed against him while he was “fixing” your form. it took everything in him not to start rutting against you right then and there. he didn’t try to hide the fact that he ogled the way your tits bounced with every movement. don’t even get him started on your grunts. sometimes, he wondered how you’d react if you knew that he thought about them while he fisted his cock at night. 

you weren’t allowed to have a boyfriend. not that you cared for boys anyway. not the ones at your school, at least. when your mom asked if anyone had caught your interest yet, you couldn’t say that it was your hot 40-something-year-old coaches who interested you. certainly not that one is married and a father to a beautiful little girl. and the other is a washed-up, nymphomaniac trust fund baby. so, you’d say no. and, she’d smile and tell you how important it was to focus on school. but how could you focus when you thought about being fire and ice’s personal cum dumpster all the time?

when your professor announced that class was over, you all but rushed to your dorm. you threw your things down, rushing to get ready for your lesson. you showered with your good body wash and your cocoa butter body oil. did your light skincare, styled your hair, and doused yourself in vanilla perfume. you checked yourself in the mirror, making sure that your lip combination was perfect. you always found yourself wanting to look the very best for your men. when you were satisfied, you shot art a text letting him know that you were on your way. 

when art received your text, he immediately told patrick. they had been debating on if they should make their attraction known to you. patrick, of course, was all for it. he had been basically trying to fuck you since he laid eyes on you. but, art wanted to be respectful of all parties involved. “we can’t just spring this on her, you know that, right?” art looked over to his already drooling best friend, hitting his leg to get his attention. 

patrick smirked at art’s nervousness, he’d always been shy when it came to beautiful fucking women. he thought back to when they were both trying to pursue tashi. he, as always, was more forward with her. however, art, the respectable gentleman he is, took his sweet time. until tashi had chosen patrick over him, and at first he was a bit heartbroken. then, he realized that just because they were dating that didn’t mean he couldn’t have his turn with her. patrick never minded sharing, not if it was with art. 

they shared clothes and food. and, women. and, sexual fantasies. and, their attraction for one another. there had always been some kind of connection between them. it wasn’t strictly platonic or romantic. it just was. and, it’s still that way 20 years later. art was more accepting of it, he embraced it without fear. but, patrick had a hard time doing either of those things. it wasn’t because he was embarrassed, he could never be embarrassed of art. but, no one was there to teach him about bisexuality. it was more taboo than even being gay in his household. the idea wasn’t even a thing until he met art. 

he’d dealt with internalized homophobia, but never felt shame when he was with his best friend. it confused him, but it wasn’t something he’d rather talk about right now. instead, he’d rather talk about you and the way your tennis dress hugged your body. your smell filled the space before you were even standing before him. he stood to pull you into a hug. he fought the urge to run his hands along your sides, massaging and caressing them. 

art was more stoic. he hid his emotions very well. you could never tell if he was displeased with your technique, not even from his tone of voice. patrick didn’t let his emotions slip but he was a little more direct. you’d know if he was slightly disappointed with how you were playing that day. but, that didn’t mean art wasn’t creaming his pants at just how fucking good you looked and smelled. he could just eat you up. 

you paused by the patio door, turning to look at the two men. you looked between them, feeling a tad bit self-conscious at their gaze upon you. your last session didn’t go too well. although, it wasn’t your fault, you were on the receiving end of their brutality. you had overheard them talking while you all were taking a break. tashi had said something to art that he didn’t like again. 

he said that he was tired of the way she treated him. like she was punishing him for retiring, still. you heard him question why they were still even together. if all of this were true then you were questioning why too. but, being on the receiving end of art’s anger excited you a bit. he was dominating. and hard. condescending, not mean. he talked to you like a father would if they were disciplining their child. calm and calculating, art donaldson was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

patrick’s anger was more explosive. antagonistic. he pushed your buttons, made you want to push and shove him. slap him, take all of your frustrations out on him because he lived for that shit. he was a spoiled brat who threw tantrums when your and art’s attention wasn’t on him. patrick zweig brought out one’s worst inhibitions. they really lived up to their names. 

art looked at you with hard eyes, like he was analyzing you. “we have to work on your backhand,” his voice was soft. slightly teasing and alluring, a stark contrast from how he watched you. like he was judging. he wasn’t judging, though. he could never judge his pretty girl. 

patrick watched the interaction. he always watched how art interacted with you. it made him hard thinking about how he was showing his true nature now. yes, arthur can be shy and awkward at times. but, mostly that was a facade. and he has changed. he had gone through too much shit to still be that soft and caring boy from college. whatever revelation art had, patrick was so into it.

you began to pout, shifting your weight to your other leg. “but mr. zweig said that it was perfect.” patrick lied, sue him. he just wanted an excuse to get up close and personal with you. art looked at patrick, who was smirking behind you. you turned to look at the brunette man, frowning at the smirk he wore. fucking patrick. “yes, and patrick isn’t a famous tennis player with an even more famous tennis player as his wife. so.” he stood in front of you. he was so close that you could see the blues and brown in his eyes. 

he stood over you, strong and intimidating. he had his hands behind his back as he bent forward. his lips caressed the shell of your ear as he spoke, “who do you think you should listen to, doll?” your breath hitched at the nickname. usually with art, he’d call you by your name. you didn’t know what changed this time. his eyes moved to patrick who watched from afar. that fucking smirk plastered on his face. 

patrick could see the chill bumps sweep across your skin. maybe he could join in on the fun too. he moved so he was behind you, closer than art was to you. you could feel the girth of his semi-hard cock grazing your back. he looked up at art who was already looking at him. “why’d you lie to her?” art asked. patrick shrugged, allowing his fingers to dance across your hipbone. “she was having a bad day. that fucking professor failed her. i wanted to make her feel better. is that a crime?” 

the air surrounding you was a mix of art and patrick’s scent and your own. it was intoxicating to say the least. but you crossed your arms, turning to face patrick, who looked down at you with that ridiculously handsome face of his. and, that damn smirk. “i’m not some child, you know? you can tell me when i’m doing bad,” they couldn’t take you seriously with that adorable pout on your lips. 

patrick had the audacity to chuckle. without a word, he walked over to the sliding door, leaning against the frame while art talked. “except you are. you throw a tantrum when you don’t get your way, you have never worked a day in your life, you’re 21 and you have people buying you whatever you want.” he laughed softly as he shook his head. “lily doesn’t even act this way.”

you scoffed looking up at him. “i thought you liked playing sugar daddy, though. that wrangler out there sure didn’t come from my father.” it was art who was smirking now. he liked that you were sassy. a little narcissistic, too. he wished he could wipe that fucking smile off of your face. “we won’t be working on your backhand today. instead, you’ll be watching patrick and i, since you can’t fucking play well enough.” you whimpered at that, your pout had made its way back onto your face. “you’re so mean, art.” 

you turned away from him, making your way towards patrick. “yeah, art. that was kinda mean. you ok, pretty baby?” he was mocking you, the bastard. patrick was usually the nicer one, even if there was some underlying reason. art was the more ‘tough love’ kind of guy. he’d chastise and discipline you. and that’s when you’d run to patrick and he’d kiss all of your booboos and comfort you like the spoiled princess you were. 

you rolled your eyes as you pushed patrick away and opened the patio door. you heard him giggle before you set your things down and took a seat alongside the court. truthfully, you loved watching them play. the intensity of it was addicting. whatever bad history they had came to light when they played each other. but, the sexual tension was prominent too. it was enigmatic. no one could reach such intensity like art and patrick. 

it turned you on greatly to see it. their grunts and your already present attraction made you undeniably wet. uncomfortably so. you’d end up showering at art’s place, using the excuse of not wanting to be sticky and sweaty before you went back home. you feared today would be no different. 

you gave them your undivided attention as you watched them. it was unusually hot in new york today, you could visibly see the beads of sweat dripping off of the two men. you wished it was dripping on you instead. the look of seriousness etched onto art’s face was almost enough to make you clutch your pearls. but, it made you clench your legs instead. patrick was less serious. he’d been less serious about tennis since breaking up with tashi and since he’d retired also. 

you learned nothing as art talked to you while he played. you were hardly even registering that he was talking. you must’ve looked like a fool with your legs crossed so tightly over each other, aching for some kind of release that your thighs just couldn’t do justice. you knew what you needed. you knew exactly what it was. you needed art and patrick, desperately so. 

you couldn’t rely on the boys at school to fuck you the way you knew patrick and art could. even when you spent countless nights trying to please yourself, it never satisfied you. 

they talked amongst themselves as they took a break. you tried distracting yourself with your phone while they did so. 

“you know she’s turned on, right?” patrick knew because he observed you. he studied everything you did. how sometimes you twitch when you’re too relaxed. or the very particular brand of lipgloss you use. he knew you when you were anxious and he knew when you were ovulating (because you refuse to be alone with them in fear of not being able to control yourself). art paid attention to you too, but not as much as patrick. 

art could sense that something was bothering you but he didn’t know what. but, the more he looked on he could see your leg bouncing. how you tried to control it by crossing your other leg over it, your obvious avoidance and sudden interest in your phone. 

art finally saw that you wanted them as much as they wanted you. he’d spent so much time battling with his morals for nothing. he didn’t want to wait longer if this is how you were acting. he walked over to you, taking a seat next to you with patrick following behind him. 

you could feel their heat radiating off of them. you were too distracted to be annoyed by it. more focused on the fact that they were caging you in between them. and, then you felt the skin of art’s thigh touching yours. patrick’s too. they were trying to intimidate you and it was working. you listened as they rambled aimlessly about how hot it was as if they weren’t practically on top of you with how close they were. 

then, you felt patrick’s hand on your inner thigh. he was rubbing small circles into the smooth skin. his fingers moved up and up until they felt the fabric of your underwear. patrick was nearly shocked at the dampness of the fabric. he hadn’t expected you to be this wet just from watching them play. but he continued with rubbing small circles, just into your clit now. and, his eyes locked with art’s. they were silently communicating. the looks on their faces said,

“dude?” (art)

“dude.” (patrick)

or however men communicate, but that’s what you assumed they were saying anyway. then suddenly all of their attention was back on you. they only ever dreamed of having you the way they do now, with your legs spread and your hips stuttering against patrick’s arm as you try not to cum. it reminded them of that one time at stanford with tashi. except, you weren’t ashamed to want them both. tashi wanted to maintain her reputation as the good girl of tennis. but you?

you had no reputation to maintain. not like tashi did. you weren’t there yet. but, when the time came for you to shine like the slut star you are, you’d have art and patrick to look out for you. they knew the ins and outs of the tennis world and they knew how to make sure that no one would ever find out how you let them spitroast you.

until then, though, patrick and art will fuck you right here in art’s tennis court. patrick had slipped his fingers inside of your underwear by now. he’s fucked tons and tons of girls in his lifetime, but none of them came close to the wetness that spilled out of you. he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself when it came time to stick his dick in you. 

he carried on playing with your clit until your pushed his arm away from the oversensitivity of your orgasm. now, you sat wet and sticky between two incredibly hard men. if only your father could see you now. 

art removed your drenched panties so that he and art could take a look at the pretty little mess between your legs. and they were in awe. something about seeing art on his knees before you made you clench around nothing. you could’ve sworn you heard a moan come from the stoic man, but your ears are still ringing so you’re not too sure. 

he leaned forward and ran his tongue from bottom to top, collecting his juices on your tongue. this time you were sure you heard a groan coming from art. the taste of you drove art crazy. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking you in place, and went to town. he did completely disregard that patrick had already made you cum because he stopped caring about your well-being the moment he got his mouth on you. 

this was for him. art ate your pussy for his sake. you cumming from it was just a bonus. so, he lapped at your clit like a madman. licking and slurping and then tongue fucking, all of it was for his enjoyment. but, he did enjoy the way your legs wrapped around his head as you practically humped his face. he encouraged it. he wasn’t entirely selfish. 

patrick sat beside you still but this time with his dick in his hand. he jerked himself off as he watched patrick eat you out. your moans had become louder now, uncaring of who heard. somewhere in your daze, you managed to wrap your hand around patrick. his eyes traveled up your body until they met yours and you watched each other while he moved both of your hands up and down his cock. the sight of the other added on to the pleasure you both were receiving. 

it wasn’t long before you were both cumming. the warmth of patrick’s cum spreading over your hand triggered your second orgasm. art allowed you to take control while you rode out your high on his tongue, pressing his face into your pussy. patrick watched you like his cum off of your hand with lidded eyes and whimpered at the sight. and, he was hard again. just like that. 

the way you managed to make them feel like horny teenagers again blew their minds. they did fuck other people during your mentorship with them. but, no one made them feel like you were making them feel, rock hard and each ready to pump you full of their cum. 

you hadn’t realized that art came while eating you out until you looked down and saw the wet spot on his shorts. it was your turn to whimper at the sight before you now. after the three of you had shared your glances of realization, there was a rush to get all of your clothes of off. you tried your best on wobbly legs after two orgasms, but you managed to get it done. then, immediately you were all a mess of body parts. all hands and lips were one each other. the three-way kissing quickly turned into two as you removed yourself from the pair. you sat back and marveled at the two men while they tongued each other down like no tomorrow. 

then your hands were on each of their cocks, jerking them off. they still hadn’t realized they were kissing each other until one felt a pair of lips on their neck, placing soft kisses alongside it. patrick pulled away when he realized he was kissing art. then art looked at you at patrick looked at art and you looked back and forth between the two, smiling. still jerking them off, you giggled. “what? like you haven’t done it before?”

you knew something happened between the two men when they were younger. but, they never specified. so you used your imagination. 

your hands moved to caress their faces. you kissed both of them each time while pulling them closer and closer until all three of you were kissing again. your lips moved in sync with the others until they broke away and were both leaving kisses along your neck. their hands squished and squeezed each of your breasts, massaging your nipples. you moaned while they each left love bites on your neck. 

you could feel their precum dripping down your body, you needed to have them inside of you one way or another and they wanted it just as much as you. they helped you onto your hands and knees. one in front and one behind you. patrick lined up with your entrance. you could feel him entering you, slowly at first, then he pulls out. almost fully, and bullies himself back in. not gently but not too rough either. you were well prepared to receive it either way. art allowed patrick to build up a rhythm before he slid himself into the warmth of your mouth. he bottomed out until his cock was well in your throat. 

there were so many noises, one would say it was straight out of porn. the wetness and skin slapping of patrick fucking you from behind. and that ‘schlick!’ sound and slurping as you deepthroating art. and the moaning, too. you were being spit-roasted by two men 20 years older on their not-so-hidden tennis court. it may as well be a porn. 

you could hear them talking about how good you felt and all you could do was moan. patrick had such a grip on you hips, and art held onto your ponytail while he fucked your face. you were so turned on by all of it, you started to cream all over patrick’s cock. and then once his fingers found your clit again, you were squirting around it. your clenching around patrick uncontrollably made him cum. he fucked you until he had nothing left to give. art held you down while he came deep inside your throat. “goood girl,” he moaned as you swallowed all of his cum. 

you hadn’t expected to be fucking your coaches today. but, you’re glad you finally got to experience your true dream. 

[rosepinksky]

Pay For My Time (pt. 5)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female reader

In which Ghost's neighbour drags him in for dinner, and then ruins his life.

Warnings: alcohol & nicotine use

word count: 1.9k

ao3 link

part 1 (smutty!)

masterlist

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

I was antsy that night at the club, constantly checking over my shoulder for a figure that never showed. I did my best to plaster a bright smile on my face as another girl clinked her glass against mine, waving off her questioning face with a half-hearted reassurance that no, I’m good, just tired.

The hot pink lace felt too tight against my chest, the cheap fabric scratching against my glitter-dusted skin. I adjusted the straps over my collarbone, gulping down the cheap vodka in one breath as I turned my attention towards an older man in a charcoal suit at the bar. I sidled up to him, running a hand down his arm as I introduced myself with a practiced, sultry tone. He smirked as his gaze roamed greedily across my body, and I set my drink down next to his on the bartop.

I had never been one for feeling self-conscious. Since my first underwired bra at 14, since my first time fooling around with a boy in someone else’s bedroom at a house party at 16, since I’d spent my first year of university giggling sweetly at some trust fund Eton kid at a sports society mixer- I was a self-assured, confident, attractive young girl. Bright, too. Never one to say the wrong thing, to embarrass myself. Always pretty, always smart, always charming.

I remembered the day I sat down in my professor’s office to tell her I was dropping out. The confused frown tinged with concern as I babbled happily about my alternative plans, about him, about moving to London and summer weddings in Cornwall. A flashy diamond ring that didn’t quite suit my tastes but blinded me anyway glittering on my left hand.

God, it was strange how the thing I resented most was how damn good my dissertation would’ve been if I had stayed.

Leading the businessman- Michael, I think he said?- up to the private booths by then hand, I was struck by another wave of bitterness by the way Ghost had denied me that morning. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he know how good I was, how many men tonight were willing to empty their pockets just to have me in their lap?

Ungrateful prick, to deny me his cock when I offered myself up so freely for him. I made a silent vow as I bent at the waist to put on a slow song to cut him off, to ignore the needy little voice in my core that ached for him to fuck me like a goddamn ragdoll once more. I swore that vow again as I began to sway in front of this other man, dragging my nails up the sides of my thighs, feeling his eyes burning holes into the soft flesh of my ass.

I hated men, I decided in that moment. I hated how they made me feel, how they used me, how desperate I somehow still was for their fucking approval.

I left the man in that booth the second he tossed me a few notes, not bothering to send a parting smile his way. I shouldered my way back down the stairs, not stopping until I collapsed back into my chair in the dressing rooms.

“Fuck!” I whispered to myself as I gulped down a mouthful of water, closing my eyes as I exhaled sharply, cheeks burning with emotions that had no place coming to the surface right now.

I was grateful for the emptiness of the room in that moment, away from prying eyes and well-intentioned questions from the other dancers. I stared at my own reflection in the vanity mirror as I puffed away at my vape until my throat burned. I took in the slight imperfections of my face under the heavy makeup, the way the mascara clumped my bottom lashes together, the way my lipstick had smeared just at the corner of my lips. I frowned, swiping away the trace of red that escaped its confines, glancing up at the clock on the wall and resigning myself to the fact that I couldn’t really leave for a good few more hours.

There were a few things that struck Ghost as interesting about Lucy’s flat. On the surface, it was entirely what one would’ve expected from a girl like her. Doused in far too much pink, and enough candles to be considered a fire hazard to the entire building. But he’d spent too much of his life on high alert, eyes trained to take in and analyse every single detail presented to him, to be able to ignore those little ins she’d inadvertently given him.

Way too many open bottles on that bar cart, of course, though he wouldn’t have needed his SAS training to pick up on that particular vice of hers. He’d meant it in more ways than one when he’d told her he didn’t fuck drunk girls; his younger self tensing up on instinct when he saw the slight gloss in her eyes, reminiscent of his father’s blank gaze after yet another 12-pack of cheap corner store lager.

But he’d looked closer, in those fleeting hours spent in her home. Noticed the lack of pictures adorning the walls, the lingering feeling that this was a place only ever inhabited by one. No visitors. No family coming to stay for the weekend, no friends crashing after a late night dancing, no Friday afternoon coffees with that one cousin you always promised to keep in touch with but only ever saw thrice in a decade.

That struck him as odd, especially after she’d been so comfortable, so practiced as she invited him in and cooked for him. That meal was not the cooking of a lonely stripper in her early twenties, he knew that much. But still, he couldn’t picture Lucy coming from a childhood of a stay-at-home mother who patiently taught her to cook over some overpriced Aga, all warmth and softness. No, this was a woman who’d seen reality, had fought tooth and nail to perfect that seemingly effortless exterior- Lucy, Violet, whoever she may be.

He found himself inexplicably drawn to this woman. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. But there was more than that; her easy confidence drew him in, made him both want her and want to be her. He wondered, in the dim light of his lonely living room, what it would be like to exude that kind of quick social intellect. There had to be more, he mused, some reason why she got to possess that effortless, uncomplicated manner instead of him. Was it just a symptom of her beauty? Had she swanned through life unbridled with the worry of other’s judgement, simply gliding by on her looks?

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth, and he chased it away with a swig of his now lukewarm tea.

He was a fucking Lieutenant. A decorated, elite operative, a goddamn prized credit to his government. She was a stripper! No bachelors certificate framed on her walls, nothing to show for her career except some fancy coffeemaker on her countertop. She was nothing, as far as he should be concerned. And still-

And still, his throat got tighter every time he went to text her. He stumbled over his words when she ran her dainty, those stupidly dainty little hands over him.

He’d told her to call him that morning. Left her there in her bedroom feeling all smug, like he’d gotten the upper hand, and he had. Like he always did. Every girl he picked up, every pretty little barracks bunny that fell for the mystery of the mask, he always had the upper hand in the morning- if he waited that long to leave. Never cruel, never neglectful, but never sweet, either.

 And yet, despite his brain pushing forward the vivid memories of her on her knees in front of him, or of her wrapped around that pole looking like an entire fucking meal- the thing he couldn’t get out of his head was the vision of her nibbling on that corner of toast as they sat on the fire escape together in the late morning sun.

His fingers were pulling up her contact page before his brain could catch up and think better of it.

“…Hello?”

Noisy. The club, obviously.

“Hey.”

He could hear the way her breath was coming a little heavier than it should be, so in tune with her mannerisms after less than a fortnight of knowing her.

“Ghost! God, the one man I didn’t want to fucking hear from tonight.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear at that, frowning at the screen. A laugh crackled through from the other end.

“Sorry, I’m not supposed to say stuff like that. Hi, handsome, how are you?”

“I’m…fine. You’re working late for a Monday.”

A light sigh from her, and the flicker of a lighter.

“You’d be surprised. These 9-5 workers, they get fussy on a Monday. It’s one of our best days.”

He huffed out a dry laugh, using his free hand to open a window and grabbing his own cigarette.

“Why didn’t you want to hear from me?”

Silence. He stayed quiet, listening to the way her breath hitched, praying that her lowered inhibitions would give way to some sliver of the truth. He really had believed her when she’d told him she wasn’t a liar, after all.

“…Because I’m mad, at the way you left me this morning.”

He smirked. “That was the point of it. Still, I don’t think that’s the entire reason, princess.”

She scoffed, taking in a long drag of her cigarette before replying.

“God, what do you want me to say? That my ego was bruised?”

His smiled widened. Bingo.

“Now why would you say that, Lucy? Was your pretty little ego bruised, when I refused to fuck you, not once but twice?”

He could hear her grumbling under her breath, and it only served to build up his cracked self-esteem further. So she wasn’t infallible, after all.

“You know you only had to ask me, right, sweet girl? Properly. Without any of that cheap wine clouding your judgement.” He dropped his voice down to a rich, weighty tone, the cigarette dangling idly from his fingers.

“Whatever.” She snapped. “Luckily for you, sir, there’s plenty of men who’ve managed to drag the stick out of their ass for long enough to see what’s in front of them.”

His smile dropped into a frown, sitting up a little straighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was another pause, and he could practically hear her smug smile. “I’m sorry if the noise disturbs your sleep tonight, Ghosty. I really would try to keep it down, but you know what I’m like when I get properly fucked.”

He wanted nothing more than to wipe that little smirk off of her face, his fists clenching until the cherry of his cigarette burned his knuckles. “Don’t you dare, Lucy.”

She giggled. She fucking giggled.

“Sorry, sir. Should’ve tried to mess with an easier girl.”

The line clicked dead, and he was left staring at the black screen of his phone.

It was less than a minute before he was on his feet, pulling on his jacket and shoving his feet into his boots, grabbing his keys before slamming his front door shut.

[seasidefallenangel]

a suggestion about paralive where the reader likes to pamper the boys with a spa day~ reader puts creams, masks on them, massages them, etc., could it be for hajun, saimon, kanata and kei maybe? or the characters you like uvu

spa day!

✣ it takes a long time for him to be okay with the idea, and even then he tends to dislike it. he finds himself unable to relax when his body’s natural response is to be on guard - not to say he doesn’t trust you, but it’s just a habit he can’t quite break. 

✣ he’s not exactly fond of physical affection, but he does relate to wanting to perform acts of service for the ones you love. something about the close proximity makes him a little uncomfortable and feel a little awkward, as noted by the subtle twitching of his hands and the way his eyes dart around the room when you try to dote on him.

✣ eventually he’ll give in if you insist enough. he might question exactly what is it you’re doing, what those lotions are for, why the hell are you putting this on his face, but he settle into it reluctantly. if you can manage to disregard his narrowed eyes while you work, then it’s a relatively domestic experience for the both of you. and no, he wasn’t falling asleep towards the end. fuck off.

✣ contrary to his twin, he adores being pampered. the second you offer he’s relaxing in the chair, eyebrow raised whilst silently asking what you’re waiting for. eye masks, facials, hand massages, manicures - he’ll melt at all of it. can you blame him? he is the baby of the family, after all.

✣ nayuta is someone who’s always been attentive toward his skin, but didn’t have the funds for the high end serums and creams. he’ll listen to all your recommendations intently as you give him his own moment of respite. there’s a borderline lovelorn look in his eyes as he admires you and your affections toward him, one that only grows stronger when you turn away from his gaze and grumble in embarrassment.  

✣ he starts off in the same boat as kanata ; that is, a little unwilling to be vulnerable around you like that. however he’s most certainly done similar things due to his career as a model, so it takes him much less time to get used to it. he might make a comment here or there about whether or not you’ll match up to the high end day spas he goes to, but just whack him up upside the head if he does.

✣ it’s expected, but his skin is near flawless. he simply laughs at your woes (“there’s nothing for me to even take care of!”) but will challenge you if you try to back down. with a watchful eye he’ll observe all your movements, the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly as you focus on helping him relax - but he’ll ensure you don’t see the twinkle of affection in his irises. 

✣ as much as you love kei, he is borderline unsettling when it comes to this. not by anything he says or even does, but because he doesn’t move at all. you’re tempted to check for a pulse most of the time - is he even blinking? he says it’s so he doesn’t cause any disruptions for you and while the gesture is appreciated, his thousand yard stare unnerves you. the decision to avoid eye contact for most of this is a better one on your part.

✣ the further you get into spoiling him, the more he softens up. he prefers to watch whatever it is you’re doing while quietly asking about every product. there’s a lot of new things involved and it’s a common habit of his to take interest in whatever you’re into. the treatment you give him is much less harsh than the treatment he’s been used to for so long, which ends up with him drifting off to sleep - a fond smile on his face as you fill his dreams.

✣ playing up the faux betrayal, shion will act as if you’ve insulted him by insinuating his skin isn’t already perfect. he backtracks when you shrug and say you can spend time doing something else, getting himself comfortable while you gather products. shion is fully aware of the effect his voice has on you and puts it to good use when he tells you to be gentle with him, an infuriatingly attractive smile on his face.

✣ the further you get into your impromptu spa session, the more shion’s stomach twists and turns. he doesn’t dislike it, per say, but he’s used much more erotic shows of affection with the people he spends intimate time with. the fact there’s no lecherous intentions in your actions fills him with a longing for a more domestic lifestyle with you, but he’s quick to push it down in fear that he’ll ruin a good thing by wanting more. 

[storiesundercandlelight]

I jumped out of my bed when I saw you updated!! 🥹💕💖

The Geoffrey fic was amazing…! You’ve been well? Life is going oki?

I was kinda laughing the other day as I talked with a friend of new things we’ve been reading; and told her about u and was like “man, I miss them”. And whenever I got excited talking about books and then remembered some that disappointed me or were just plain I would said that again out of reflex; “man I miss them sm”

That’s my new “I should call them”. 🩵✨ You never disappoint, I’m so glad you’re alive and active!

I wasn’t into Geoffrey and after reading this I’m like that Kombucha girl video like “mmm nah, BUT lemme check twice just to be sure” 😭

Could I request something Jonathan xFem reader that begins with someone being super affected by voice/sounds/talking; taking things to something physical/NSFW? I’m super into Jonathan’s voice and accent; in gral all the VA’s did an amazing job!!

I’m super close to finishing the game now and DAMN they’re all (characters) so well made 🥹

Or just whatever you’d enjoy writing or been wanting to write for a while! I trust your amazing taste.

Take care of yourself and I hope you’re well and happy! Lots of hugs 💕🩷💕🩷✨!!!

There's Something In The Way You Speak

Here you go! I hope you love it! Jonathan's voice could definitely make us all go feral!! And Geoffrey is my best boy 🤣 I will make you love him!!

I haven't proof read this yet so I'm sorry for any mistakes! <3

Jonathan knew how easy it was to rile you up now, a small perk he was more than happy to take advantage of especially on a night like this. He'd hated social obligations before being changed into an Ekon, he still hated them. He couldn't even eat or drink to distract himself from the dull conversations he was pulled into.

Damn Edgar for forcing him to come to this thing. He knew it was all about keeping up appearances. The hospital requires funding Jonathan, these men fund us. So make them happy and feel like they are needed, because they bloody well are. The only perk to tonight? Having you by his side, dressed so finely. The curve of your neckline was bordering scandalous for this day and age, more than one set of eyes had landed on you tonight, much to Jonathan's annoyance.

But, as Jonathan had recently been made aware of, he had a little weapon to use against you. The memory made him smirk, your cheeks had grown so red after your all but blurted out the effects his voice had on you. I don't know, something about the tone and just the way you say things....just forget I said it alright?

He definitely would not be forgetting you said it, how could he just stand by and let quite possibly his best advantage over you go to waste. Before it was always Jonathan falling head over heels whenever you beckoned, how easily you made him want you, how simple it always was to make him lust after you. Oh how the tables have turned.

Jonathan moved closer to you, your body leaning delicately against one of the pillars adorning the room. It took a slight amount of bending to bring his lips right beside your ear before he whispered, nice a deep. "You know, I've been thinking about all of the doors in this hall. Where they lead to, which of them will be the one I'll pull you through, the one where I'll ravish you across whatever surface we find"

Your head turned towards him, eyebrows lifted and eyes wide in surprise. "Behave Dr.Reid" you whispered back.

"I don't want to behave, I want to fuck you" Jonathan felt your body tense beside him but this time he wasn't told off, you simply stared straight ahead, eyes flicking over the couples dancing or socialising. "Don't you want to?" His lips were all but pressing against your ears now, the soft tickle of his breath had you shivering.

"What I want is for you to behave" You quipped back, but Jonathan saw the redness growing on your cheeks, he was fairly curtained he'd never used that sort of language around you before....why wasn't it working? Jonathan straightened up, the glass of whiskey - still as full as when Edgar handed it to him- was the only thing he could use to occupy his hands as he tried to think of what else he could say to you.

Two - or was it three?- tedious conversations with men you had no desire to listen to, had come and gone since Jonathan's attempt to scandalise your thoughts. You wouldn't let him know it but your entire body had flashed hot and cold at his words. The idea of him whisking you away to have his way with you hadn't left your mind since he'd put the thoughts there.

Jonathan all but pouted his way through the conversations, waiting impatiently for them to end so he could try his luck again. He didn't have any ideas as far as what to exactly say to you, filthy talk wasn't exactly in his list of strengths, but the thrill of trying to rile you up was enough to keep him excited to try.

You had somehow managed to slip away from the small group that had Jonathan cornered, his eyes searched for you across the room, as the men in front of him continued their dull conversation. There you are. You had clearly just come from the bar, a tall glass in hand as you let your eyes wander over the room, stopping on the paintings along the walls. Truth be told Jonathan would feel happy enough to simply watch you from a distance, your beauty was always something that had him catching his breath each time he looked at you.

You felt Jonathan behind you before you heard him speak. "You abandoned me" He spoke low again, his lips not as close as before but close enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck prick up.

"You seemed to be doing alright"

"I don't appreciating you playing so hard to get...especially given how much effort I'm putting in to trying not to get hard while looking at you" Lord above this man would be the death of you, you turned your head towards him, catching him playing innocent as he met your. gaze.

"Have you gone mad?" Of all the time for Jonathan to be trying his new found technique to get you in the mood, now was certainly not the time! But the boyish smirk that pulled at his lips made you think that no matter where you happened to be at this moment, nothing was going to stop him.

"I think that one" Jonathan nodded his head towards a door positioned near the back of the room, out of the many doors that lined the walls between painting in the room, this one was likely the easiest to take and not be seen. "Given that it isn't locked of course, but I have a good feeling"

"You can't just wander around!" You whispered back to him. "One, people will notice you've gone-"

"After a while"

"And two, we can't just walk into whatever room we please, certainly not to do what you have in mind! What if someone catches us?"

"What if the sky falls on our heads? What if Priwen storms in and burns me at the stake? What if's are too boring for tonight my dear, and I have had the last three hours of nothing but boring so... shall we?"

Before you could even argue Jonathan had gripped your wrist and walked towards the door with much more confidence than you could muster. The creeping paranoia that someone would see you both sneaking away was almost enough to have you fighting against his pull. But before you knew it Jonathan had turned the knob on the door and pushed you both through it.

The hallways was dark, lit only by the moon light that came in through the windows on one side of the space, more doors lined the walls on the other side. "See? if it was in use tonight they would have lit it up" Jonathan walked forward leaving you by the doors you'd just come through. The first door he tried was locked, with a purse of his lips he moved onto the next one. "Hmm, a linen closet?" Again he moved onto the next, seemingly unhappy with this one also.

"Jonathan..."

"Perfect!" He motioned you over with a flick of his hand, only allowing you to get so close before pulling you once more through a door and into what looked like a small - very small - laundry room. Shelves covered one side of the room, an assortment of sheets and towels were folded neatly in stacks.

"Perfect? Oh lord if this is what you're calling perfect right now then you must have slipped a few marbles out, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Jonathan pulled the door closed quietly before reaching for a wooden chair sat off to the right of the room (presumably used when the servants were polishing or sewing) and fitting it under the handle, effectively locking you both in, and more importantly locking people out.

"There!" Jonathan turned to you, the boyish grin back. He gripped you by the hips moving you slowly backwards until you bumped into the counter top lining the other half of the room. You felt weightless for a moment as Jonathan lifted you onto the counter, his hands quickly pushing up your dress enough for his to stand between your thighs. "This is much better" His voice depended as he leaned forward, pressing his lips for your neck and trailing kisses up towards your jaw. "Do you know how difficult it has been for me tonight to see you dressed this way?"

Not that you imagined he wanted answer, but you wouldn't have been able to speak even if he had. Your mind was entirely too focused on the way Jonathan's hands travelled up your thighs, pushing under the bunched up fabric of your dress. "So many men were looking at you... I had a mind to let the beast take over....the walls would have looked better red"

You let yourself shiver fully, the idea of Jonathan being enraged at other men looking at you had you reaching out behind you, looking for support to keep you upright as he continued to lean over you. You felt the most subtle scrap of his fangs against your neck before he spoke again. "Will you let me have you? God I want you"

His voice grew deeper as lust quickly consumed him, his grip tightening on you as he lifted you again, just high enough to quickly slip your underwear down your legs. You couldn't even help yourself now as your hands slipped around the back of Jonathan's neck, pulling him in for a kiss that was entirely too needy and downright messy as you both started grabbing at each other. Your hands clashed with Jonathans as you both reached for his belt, but with a chuckle you both managed to free him, already so firm and ready.

Jonathan pulled you closer to the edge of the counter and by doing so, closer to him. "If we get caught-"

"Shh we won't" Jonathan nipped playfully at your bottom lip before lining himself up and pushing into slowly, his eyes closing as you enveloped him. "Christ you feel good" Hearing Jonathan's words of praise in this setting was new to you, he was far too much of a gentleman to whisper filth into your ear. But apparently those days were over.

Your gentle moans filled the small space as Jonathan moved against you, whispering and groaning against your neck, letting his fangs nip you in-between words. God knows if you weren't at a party you would tell him to bite down, to drink as he took you. It was almost as if Jonathan had the same thought as a broken whine tore out of him and his hips began moving faster.

You kept one arm behind you, using both the wall and counter top for support while the other pulled Jonathan closer to you, your lips finding his for another messy kiss. You knew it couldn't last forever but you desperately wanted it to, especially when Jonathan was being as vocal as he was.

He wasn't even sure what he was saying now, he'd lost the sense to form full sentences when you started rocking back against him, meeting his thrusts, your hand in his hair gripping and pulling him closer to deepen your already wild kiss. But Jonathan did know you were both so close, he could feel how tight you'd become around him, your face moved to press against his shoulder as you tried to conceal the moans that were falling from your lips.

You came with a shuddering gasp, you grip on each other tightening as Jonathan followed. It was only a few moments of you both regaining your senses before you pulled apart. Your eyes looked over Jonathan and a small smirk pulled at your lips at the sight of him, his hair messed and falling out of place, his tie and shirt was pulled and wrinkled but his fangs were what had your eyes lingering, they were extended, just visible as he looked back at you.

"You look a sight" Jonathan chuckled before righting himself and his clothes as best as he could, pushing his hair back with his hand before reaching forward to help you down from the counter. You started straightening yourself up as Jonathan bent down to retrieve your underwear from the floor. You reached for them but he pulled them back out of reach. Jonathan watched as confusion washed over your face before quickly tugging the fabric into his pocket.

"You cannot be serious"

Jonathan simply shrugged. "You wouldn't need them for long anyway" You huffed a disbelieving laugh at the man before you as he stood smugly by the door about to remove the chair he'd used to lock the door.

"Jonathan?" You both froze. Edgar. He didn't shout but he definitely spoke loudly enough for you both to hear him and be sure of who it was. Your eyes snapped to Jonathan, a clear I told you so, written all over your face.

Jonathan couldn't help it, he started smiling, and then giggling, covering his mouth with his hand so that Edgar - who was walking closer and closer to the door that hid you - wouldn't hear. You couldn't believe this, you couldn't believe him.

It took a few moments and a brief amount of panic when Edgar tried to the barricaded door before his footsteps receded down the hall. and then another few moments before either of you felt safe enough to crack open the door to see if the coast was clear. "See? I told you we'd be fine"

"Jonathan he will know as soon as he takes a look at us what we've been doing!"

"So you're telling me we should sneak out of one of the windows and go home? Excellent idea" You shook your head but you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you watched Jonathan check every single window on the way back down the hall to the party, just in case you could plot another great escape.

[itspdameronthings]

Benny The Rookie Cop Ch4

Summary: Has been awhile since my last post. Had soo many ideas for this one! At long last its done! This chapter has some drama, Benny being a big baby. Finally ! the mystery women in Sant's room!

Santi's POV: 

That voice. Sounded familiar to me,but for the life of me I couldn't place it! Turned around to see her! Can't it be?! Thought.. oh fuck! Am I dreaming? Lilly? After all of these years? Here!? Taking a step forward,” Sure you can. What are you doing here?” Sat down to tell me why she is in rehab. Same reason why I'm here. Not saying too much about it. Heard my voice earlier this evening when she first arrived. Seeing her reminds me of our childhood. Going off on our own,and looking after Gracie while ma was working. After highschool we lost touch. Till we met up again at basic training. Then we parted again. She went to the med core. Then things went to shit after endless relationships ended badly. Okay, we have something to share in that department. Took her hand,” We will lick this together. Hopefully this time we can overcome this addiction. Gracie would love to see you when I tell her “ When she heard me mention Gracie made her tear up. Always wondered what happened to her. Told her about being married to Benny. Also her being a nurse. Hearing that made her tear up again. We chatted till both of us fell asleep. Forgot about the rule about no patients in the room after a certain hour. Helped her to her room. Till I heard her whispering,” Just like old times Tang.” 

Yeah like old times. Times when we walked home from a party because my truck ran out of gas. Oh those highschool days. Followed by that time during basic when we got kp duty because of a prank gone wrong. Sorry Redfly! Took her hand,” Get some rest now lily pills. Another day in rehab land. Especially with Dr. Relationship wrecker.” Lilly looked at me all confused,” Why is that who’s” Whispers the answer in her ear as I walked towards my room. Not till I see another familiar face . Fish’s wife, Redfly 's ex,” What are you doing on this floor? Thought you were in labor and delivery?” Molly practically slugs me on the shoulder. While rolling her eyes,” I'm on my rehab rotation you jackass! Did your sister tell you anything? Oh right her mind is on her husband right now. Poor guy being shot in the ass.” Rubbing my shoulder as I opened my room door,” Yeah , that smarts . Wanna say congrats to your marriage. Glad you are happy. I mean it. Both of you need some happiness. Also wanna ..” Molly knew what I was gonna say. Took her a while to process the information about Tom. Glad the trust fund has helped to continue with her nursing school. Want to work not to live off the trust all that much. Saved portion of it for the girls’ education. Frankie finally got his pilot license,and now flies for the fire department. Proud of you man. Molly leans against the doorframe telling me that she has faith in me. Also she has my back on the doctor issue. Since she is gonna be helping her. More importantly to give her two cents. Love her spunk! 

Gracie’s POV: 

Forgot how much sleep one loses in the hospital Nurses come in to check on his vitals and such. Now they know about his lower back tattoo! Beautiful rose bud. His way to have me near him. So sweet! Have one same location, boxing glove. Which he loves so much. My thoughts were dashed when Benny moaned for me. Poor baby boy having a bad dream. Calmed him down by touching him ever so gently and slowly. Followed by me singing softly to him. He opened his eyes ever so slowly,” Hmm … such a sweet little voice ya have. Perfect thang to hear right now. Wished …” Kisses him slowly,” I know baby. Wished we were in our bed. Hopefully that will happen. Hope I can convince the docs for me to tend to you rather than someone else. Can't have that.” 

No he doesn't want that. Have another nurse to take care of him. Lay next to him facing him while touching his face ever so gently till a nurse from the ER comes in to tell me that I'm needed! Hello! My shift is over! 

Benny's POV:

Nurse’s work is never done! Poor rose bud. Tired rose bud. Heard her out in the hallway,but quietly telling a nurse that she needs to be with me! In her tired state won't be a good idea! Darn tooting it isn't! You tell her darlin. Hate the fact I can't  lay on my ass. Not complainin . Okay! I am! Ass fucking hurts. Need more meds! See, my iv bag looks like a prune! Heard Gracie mumbling as she pressed the call button. Good girl! Give me more of that stuff. Sound of the same nurse comes in with an IV bag. Closed my eyes since the light was bright as fuck! Hurry the fuck up! Turn that light off! Moments later the room is dark again. Moonlight shines through the window. God she looks beautiful. Kiss her soft lips,” Rest my wife. Gonna need some strength to give the ER a what for,and see if I'll be sprung out of this joint. “ 

Morning finally comes. Oh fucking great! 7am my doc ,and a few med students are at attention as he checks my ass wound. Sayin it has healed up pretty good. Yeah yeah! Get to the part when I can get out of here already sheech! Heard him sayin that I'll be gettin out of here sometime this morning! Finally! Seeing my wife smile. Till two familiar voices fills the room! Frankie and Will! Gracie closes the door as she and the doctor,and students chit chat out in the hall. 

Both of them try not to tease me all too much about my wound. That's fine! I'm a big boy! Can take it! Will begins to ease my pain by tellin funny, childhood stories till Gracie comes in,” Looks like I'm gonna be someone's private nurse, handsome husband of mine.” Hell fucking yeah baby! 

Note: I'll be doing a mini chapter. I know y'all wanna know what happens when Benny gets home. As for the next chapter? Flashforward few weeks when Benny picks Santi up from rehab. Spend time together. Meanwhile Gracie is in danger all because of Lucy's stupidity.

@dameronscopilot @rhoorl @romanarose @musings-of-a-rose @crookedbreadtimemachine

[thatharringrovehoe]

I have to memory of writing this but I'm clearing out my drafts so here ya go!

When Steve and Billy move in together Billy is 100% ready to have to handle the finances. Because he's so sure that Steve, being the trust fund baby that he is, has no concept of budgeting or living paycheck to paycheck. But to his complete suprise (and utter confusion) Steve is really frugal. Knows how to make some really banger poor man's dinners. Freezes leftovers without being prompted. Cuts coupons, buys bargain brand, knows basic house repairs and what? Why does Steve even need to know any of this? So one day he just. Asks.

"The hell taught you how to pinch pennies rich boy?"

Steve gets a little cagey. A little defensive. And Billy realizes he's stepped on a bit of a landmine when it comes to his boyfriend's past. So he treads carefully. Decides to leave it alone because lord knows that's what Billy wishes people would do 99% of the time when it came to his issues. It pays off when, a few days later as they lay cuddling on the couch watching their tiny tv, Steve opens up.

"My parents gave me an allowance."

And. Alright? That's not, like. Abnormal. He says as much. Steve just keeps his eyes glued to the staticky rerun of 'I Love Lucy' while he breaks Billy's heart.

"After they fired Rosa, I had to take care of myself and the house. To teach me to be a man or something. There wasn't always enough to both keep the power on and stock food for three months."

"Three months? How old were you? And who's Rosa?"

Steve sighs.

"Rosa was my nanny. My parents fired her when they figured I was to old to have one. Think I was like. Twelve?"

He sounds sad. Like he's talking about a dead relative he's still grieving for.

"She couldn't just. I dunno, check on you?"

Billy doesn't get this. Steve wore designer clothes. Drove a fucking Beamer. And he was going hungry for who knows how long at the age of twelve?

"She had her own kids Billy. I was just. I dunno. A job. I managed fine. She taught me how to make some basic meals and do a little house maintaience before she left so. More than anyone else taught me."

Billy is once again blindsided by how little he knew about Steve when he pulled up to Hawkins. All the things he just assumed.

"'s not fine pretty boy. They shoulda been there."

Steve finally turns to look up at Billy. His smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"Doesn't matter. I got you now right?"

The TV flickers and hums in the background. Billy's chest feels tight, to small to carry all the love he has for this beautiful man. His fingers itch to set the house in Loc Nora ablaze. Put to rest all the ghosts.

He pulls Steve tighter to his chest. Burries his nose in chestnut hair that smells like lavender and Fera Faucet.

"You're never getting rid of me, baby"

[jacedified]

SUMMIT PT 2 LIVE REACTION

wdym u can explain eventually

TELL HIM VINCE- i-

WILLIAM ORDERED U but like why tho

ok porter i love u MWAH

SOLAIRES STAND AS ONE NATION UNDER GOD INDIVISIBLE whatever whatever

ALEXIS GET UR SHIT TOGETHER

period alexis

i would love a game of clue rn

shes not wrong abt the wrinkles

LEX??? WTF AYE Lex VINCENT WTF DO U MEAN LEX

sweethearts safe and sound BLESS 😭

GIRL ATP I NEED U TO SPEAK IM TO ANXIOUS FOR SILENCE

milo bby its ok OUR POOKIE IS OK

asher smooch MWAH ily be safe

yea davey king dead happened while u were in negotiations

PUSH THEM AWAY???

DAYYYUMM ofc they didnt get to see who did the murder DAAAMMNIT

idky but evacuate the dance floor is playing in my head

(EVACUATE THE DANCE FLOOR DOO DOO DOO DOO IM ADDICTED TO THE SOUND) ((i forgot the lyrics))

aww another trusting moment between the men

PORTER CMERE BABES

yeah tell him asher

GET HIS ASS

PORTERR ill-

GET HIM ASHEERRRR

im crying i have tears in me eyeballs yall i cant

SPEAK SIR

ok thats true but like why did u send SH in there right before u knew he was gonna die????

DID I HEAR HEARSAY

true i cant handle a war rn and lovely shouldnt be spending their first year fighting on behalf of a clan they just became a part of

porter if ur not spinning then why do u look like a ballerina rn?? hmm?? EXPLAIN

YEA BUT THE NUDGE WAS DONE KNOWING SOMETHING WOULD HAPPEN A LITTLE HEADS UP WOULDVE BEEN FUCKING NICE

lets go crazy crazy crazy till we see the sun

the department is right there.. in sweetheart form

BLOOD FIRST??? oh yeah vampire clan rules blah blah i remember this being mentioned during quinns little moment

WHO TF IS SPEAKING?? alexis? GIRL THATS NOT U SPEAK LIKE NORMAL

OH THE MONARCH IS SPEAKING i was lost

baas? bahs? someone spell this for me i wanna kiss her SORRY yall

BOYS JUST KEEP UR WOLFY HANDS DOWN

. . . yeah shes not wrong solaire and friends should probably sit out

MILO ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

as if you care princely pop..

OH- TELL HIM ALEXIS clock him

oooooh???

alexa play ash by seventeen

well william aint here rn hes got other rich people duties

i hope SH is like stupidly staring at alexis the way i would be

so ur saying u left him alone before he died

HE DIDNT SAY? mf u were pestering abt funding just say he was annoyed w u

LEAVE WILLIAM ALONE HES BUSY (this is my sticking up for my 500 something yr old bby daddy)

well thats just hearsay princely poo

oh- AYE ADAM DESERVED IT CUNT!! (no he didnt i love him but yes he did)

YEAAAA TELL HIM

thank u porter poo

yea … christopher

they were fighting vincent for the most part so alibi CHECK

sorry monarch we didnt mean to kil- i mean let the king die without notice.. ill let u know next time

THEY FOUND SOMETHING YAALL

MORE TO THE STORY??? omg OH SHIT demon blood on a letter opener is crazy

so someone stabbed my other future husband with a letter opener

SHE CALLED ASHER PUP i love the monarch

OK MONARCH I WAS JUST COMPLIMENTING U GOD DAMN IT BE NICE

ok maybe david was a little silly asking that question but u cant expect him to know everything

so basically what im hearing is a demon was involved only ppl who closely align with empowered and demons would the house of bennett and their relationship with closeknit

CHRISTOPHER U LYING SACK OF SHIT WE CAUGHT U

ONE OF U OLD BAGS CALL ANOTHER SHAW PACK BOYS A DOG AND YOULL BE ON THE NEXT BEHEADING LIST

exactly someone got caught lacking after killing the king and didnt think to fuckin check themselves before letting the king be found

period porter.

i would retype all of this but shes just speaking fact so i dont need to take note of any of it

YOU GAVE HER THE POWER TO DO SO DUMBASS

ANOTHER DEATH??? damn both kings dead during the summit is wild

yeah milo my mind is kinda blown

NO MORE MONEY FOR CLOSEKNIT WOOT WOOT NO MORE MONEY CLOSEKNIT WOOT WOOT

vincent im too mentally unstable for an “are you alright lovely”

I REMEMBER IT BEING SPELLED BAAS so monarch baas is very right

NO HES JUST A BBYGIRL HE DONT KNOW NOTHIN

help “with any luck it wont be the last” shes so real for that

YES MAAM THIS WILL BE REPEATED TO KNOW ONE LOVE U HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF UR SUMMIT *bow bow*

vincent listen i love u but like shes right we just have to keep it pushing

PORTER VINCENT TALK TIME lets gooo

IM EXCITED FOR PT 3

[chefediaboiv]

Clappers

Im gonna keep leaking the secret. The traffic of geeks hits speeds of dumb, no I don't want or wanna give you a lollipop but she likes when I speak in tongues. Telling me to shut the fuck on my freedom of speech on who and why on the breach of my plush fund? Oh no come come. I can lead you to who's holding out for some gum drops, eyes red as the devil's dick; bloodshot. Jay won't even tell silent Bob what's in his glove box, pictures of a dogma. No honor with cheap shots from Wisconsin, thank you Ohio. Every card I drew scary, no hate on your Bible. That's a Dilbert, who's line was a diamond dick and your still hurt. Sure wish any cigarette you had came from the cancer team, that's what you get for not figureing out how to play the tambourine. All this child abuse, you knew better then to raise your hand at me. Now your festering about a little spinal tap, learned a time attack. Then get pissed off that I already know how to take my time with tacs, toe tagged the FM radio hobby as the time ticks. Now somebody is using a pencil to cassette rewind it back but I'm sick. Touch that door and you'll see how much more elaborate I convince. It could take years for a nigga to come up with some timeless shit, just tell him to take his time with. That bit of advice is profound, timeless shit. I struck out an entire team for seven innings, remember what I said bout the crazy man's flexes. I wasn't kidding, repeat is a better answer then lemurism. I've never met so many black people that can't keep a riddim. For a frosted flake, Toby McGuire is a great position and drew uncles Bill for the trouble. Oi, it's no mystery to me why they Jake Gyllenhaal'd her bubble boys, image is more important then the pro ferrets Sara Bellum, you told him some shit that you're actually scared to tell him. My mojo loco and your ex husbands a career felon, they update every time I wipe my ass. He say, she say, he's the shit and I can't smell him. There's no amounts to the fucks I give that I won't tell em. It's over boy with your mud donk, any reason my actual opponents don't show to get mud stomp. A Papai I see era in you rushing to Wilson, for a Pat on the back you better belichick the whole million. Your religion must be Christiana Aguilera trust me your coaches know the rent. I'm not gonna waste words on fools, hold your sense. Your too bitch for my blood, trust me I know the stench. Can you keep up I hear a go home baljeet attack in the distance, castration is what we do to the wimp men. You thought Sheldon was smart I make the big bangs lookalike simplins, your name doesn't get points on this SAT little chitterlins. Looking to buff your GPA, you may wanna put in the effort. King's orders for negating the other way, Sepatown Sa da tay! Go that way. Stool pigeons and what they do, on your ride to badder Babe Ruth's who don't mind the bandito's payday. Remember comic view didn't work out for your laced little JJ, is it gold Dupree. Your a little behind the times, spell check doesn't go with loose leaf. Never seen or heard my talents, play that role loosely. There is no max with no Goofy, Billy Blanks keep the wiz on hold til bacalito learns from smarter people. Great see ya Moana about vitamins, there you go cutting into your time again.

[wackernagels]

idk what it is w modern depictions of ao bing and ice powers but i think it’s neat

[holylulusworld]

Jelly Beans

Title: Jelly Beans

Square Filled for @ultimatechrisbingo​: Picking Flowers

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,1  k

Summary: You love jelly beans. Ransom likes…loves…no…he wants you…

Warnings: angst, language, cocky/selfish Ransom, the reader is a teasing little shit, big brother’s best friend trope, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (male & female), the reader is cocky too, she likes to tease, possessive Ransom, protective Ransom, shitty parents, good big brother, mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, making out, implied smut/implied loss of virginity

A/N: Y/B/N = your brother’s name

Rating: Explicit (it includes masturbation)

Ultimate Chris Bingo masterlist 

The first time you met Ransom Drysdale, or Hugh to the help and people he doesn’t like, was at the age of fourteen. He was two years elder and your brother’s best friend.

You immediately had a thing for the cocky blue-eyed trust-fund prick but would’ve rather died than admit you liked him.

He was cold and distant toward you, always calling you ‘the little sister’ or ‘annoying brat’ as you clung to your big brother like your life depended on it.

Two years later it’s no different. You are sixteen now, a grown beauty according to the boys at school but Ransom arrogance is my middle name Drysdale still treats you like a child.

“Again, Y/B/N?” Ransom sneers as you walk next to your big brother. Your parents are on yet another business trip and left you and your brother on your own again. “We wanted to have fun with the girls tonight, not babysit your baby sister. She’s a toddler and will cling to you once again. Such a turn-off.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for lowering your chances to get to feel a girl up from 2 percent to zero, Hugh,” you storm off, ignoring that your brother calls your name. He sighs, shaking his head at Ransom.

“Ransom, it’s her sixteenth birthday today, okay. How could I leave her alone at the house with the help?” your brother grunts. “She should have a sweet sixteen party, not hang out with bitchy girls and a guy like you.”

“A guy like me,” Ransom almost looks offended when your brother turns around to follow you inside the house. “What’s that supposed to mean? A guy like me?”

“Stop sulking. She will watch a movie a crap at the guestroom, Y/B/N,” while your brother worriedly checks on his phone, hoping you answered one of his messages Ransom tries to pull his attention back toward the girls in the room.

“It’s her birthday, Ran,” your brother shakes his head. “I can’t believe they did this to her. Dad threw a huge party for my sixteenth and eighteenth birthdays. They even forgot to leave a gift or call her. It’s just—”

“Fine, whatever,” Ransom gets up to leave the room. “Entertain our guests while I try to calm your baby sister down. I’ll give her a lollipop or something.”

“Get me that fucking cake,” the help grumbles under her breath but hands Ransom the birthday cake she got for him. “Now look out for my other guests. I gotta see if the kid needs a fresh diaper or something.”

He walks off, the birthday cake in his hands. Ransom doesn’t want you to ruin his fun with his friends, so he enters the room, muttering happy birthday, and places the birthday cake on the bed.

“What’s that?” you glance at the cake. It’s pink and there are little jelly beans all over the cake. “A cake for kids with jelly beans?”

“Yeah, well…you’re a kid and you eat jelly beans all the time,” you look away, not wanting to admit Ransom’s half-hearted try to give you something for your birthday is more than you got from your parents. “It’s strawberry and vanilla with jelly beans. Now have a slice and stop sulking. Y/B/N and I want to have some fun.”

“Thank you,” Ransom groans as you look at the cake again. He can see tears run down your cheeks and knows he’ll not have fun with the girls tonight. “It’s a nice cake. More than my parents ever did for me.”

“So…eat it. I've got a fork for you too,” he gets the fork out of his back pocket, smirking as you make a face. “I didn’t do anything with it.”

“Like what?” holding out your hand for the fork you furrow your brows. “I swear if you licked it all over I’ll stab you with it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of giving you my spit,” the fucker smirks. “Now have a taste of the cake so I can go back to my real friends and have fun.”

“You can go, Hugh. Tell my brother I’m fine,” you blow out the candle on the cake, wishing for something more than a cake for kids on your next birthday. “I’m used to it already. He gets the big parties and I get—” you sniffle, wiping your eyes, “well, they favor my big brother.”

“Can’t say my parents are better,” Ransom shrugs. “I spent most of my birthdays alone, with the help or if I get lucky with Harlan. Luckily I don’t have any siblings. So, they can’t favor them.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” grasping for his wrist you try to stop Ransom from leaving the room, “I love Y/B/N. He’s the best big brother, always tries to make me feel better. He even stands up for me. It’s just—” shaking your head you decide to stop expecting anything from your parents. “Forget it. It is what it is. He’ll take over the legacy of my grandfather one day and I’ll just turn into a faded memory in a scrapbook. If they even got any pictures of me.”

“How about you stop being a good girl and turn into a rebellious teenager,” he says while cupping your face with his big hands. He just stares at your face for a moment, humming as you look up at him with big wide eyes. “Fuck it.” He dives in to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips. “Happy birthday and this never happened. If you tell anyone I got you a cake and kissed you…”

“I—” Ransom is gone before you can process what just happened. “Thank you for the cake and all…” you say long after he’s gone.

You will spend the rest of the night wondering about what happened and eating the cake.

Ransom was right. It’s vanilla and strawberry and honestly the best cake you ever ate…

After your sixteenth birthday, the cake, and the kiss Ransom treated you pretty much the same as he did before. He teased you, muttered, and continued calling you brat, kid, or his favorite pet name – jelly beans.

Almost a year later at your brother’s birthday party, you see him with a new girl on his arm. Her name is Erica, or Erin. You really don’t remember anything but the pang of jealousy that hit you once again.

Since Ransom kissed you, your heart belongs to him even more. He’s still the same cocky and arrogant prick, but deep down inside you hope the soft side he showed for only a few moments wasn’t all show.

“Do you enjoy the party?” one of your brother’s friends asks. He stands next to you, shamelessly ogling your chest. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m turning seventeen in a few months, so no, I don’t want to drink alcohol,” you cross your arms over your chest. “The party is over there.” You whip your head toward your brother and his friends. “I’m just a bystander waiting for the cake…”

“We could have a party on our own,” the guy offers. “Many rooms to have fun.”

“Dude, that’s Y/B/N’s baby sister. I’ll suggest you leave her alone,” Ransom suddenly stands next to you, already grasping for your arm to bring you behind his much taller frame. He sizes the guy hitting on you up, smirking as you tug at his shirt. “She’s off-limits.”

“Man, you can ruin an easy lay, Ransom,” the guy storms off, muttering insults under his breath.

“It’s Hugh to you, asshole,” you can’t believe Ransom left his pretty date to come to your aid. “Jelly beans, come here.” He clears his throat as you reluctantly step in front of him. “Don’t flirt with that guy or any of your brother’s friends. They are all vultures.”

“I didn’t flirt with him,” you argue. “I was just watching the others having fun. Y/B/N wanted me to join the party, but I know not even half of the people at the party. Only you, Patricia, and Jamie. He came to me, talking shit about having fun. That’s not my fault.”

“Well, you better stick to my side then,” before you can say another word Ransom grasps for your hand to guide you toward your brother, his new girlfriend, and Jamie. “You’ll not leave my side. Got it, jelly beans?”

“Got it,” you can only mumble as Ransom already tells your brother what the douche tried. You feel like a scolded child when all eyes land on you and wish you could just disappear.

“Hugh?” you knock at the guestroom. “Can I come in? You forgot your phone downstairs and I wanted to hand it back to you.”

Ransom doesn’t answer so you silently open the door. “Hey, you forgot your phone and…” Ransom doesn’t seem to hear you.

He has his hand placed on his naked chest. His lips are parted, and he groans deeply. You drop your eyes to the blanket covering his lower half, swallowing thickly as his other hand seems to pump his cock. 

“Hugh?”

“Fuck, kitten,” his eyes are still closed, but his hand moves faster, and fuck, he moans even louder. “That’s it, take my cock deeper in your tight little cunt.”

Oh, fuck. Ransom still didn’t recognize you are in the room. Maybe you only whispered his name, and he is too lost in pleasuring himself.

You want to leave the room and not be a creep, but your feet seem to be glued to the floor as your eyes watch the scene in front of you.

You can feel your panties dampen and your hands begin to sweat. “Fuck, you’re so tight for me, kitten. Do you want me to cum inside of your pussy?” you make an odd noise and Ransom’s eyes snap open. 

Ransom looks at you, bewildered. He pants heavily, hand still slowly pumping his cock as he watches you step closer to the bed to place the phone on the nightstand. “I found your phone and…” you giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up, “are you masturbating, Hugh?”

“Fuck, get out of the room,” he grits out, too close to his orgasm. “Just go kitten. I can’t…”

“Hugh?” he hums when you place your hands onto his thigh to squeeze his flesh through the covers. “Cum…” the noise he makes is the most erotic sound you ever heard. His hips jolt upward, and you can see something flash in his eyes before he yells at you.

“GET THE FUCK OUT, Y/N! It’s your fault I just creamed all over me and the blanket,” you wink at Ransom before you bolt out of the room.

The door slams shut, and you press your back to the cool wood, feeling your heart flutter. He just came only as you told him so…

Things were awkward since your brother’s birthday, to say the least. Ransom would avoid you like the plague and you tried to do the same.

You didn’t want to strain your brother’s relationship with Ransom, so you mostly stayed at home when he wanted to spend time with his friend.

“Why don’t you join us downstairs?” your brother tries one last time. “Come on. We’ve got food and are having fun. Let’s just stay the evening together.”

“I’m a little tired,” Y/B/N doesn’t need to know you are having dirty fantasies about his best friend for over a year. You don’t see much of Ransom since your brother’s birthday but remember the night he came while you were in the same room vividly. 

“Is this about your birthday last week? I know you turned eighteen and all, but I had to go to that meeting,” he sighs deeply. Barely twenty and having so much responsibility isn’t easy for your brother. “I promise to make things up to you.”

“Y/B/N, I know that you had to join mom and dad on that business trip,” you peck his cheek. “I really got a terrible headache and only want to sleep. I love you, big bear.”

“Love you too, lil’ sis,” you giggle at the silly nicknames you gave each other so many years ago. “Night.”

“Night.”

You don’t sleep as you told your brother. No, you are busy running the vibrator you ordered online up and down your wet folds. Moans and little gasps leave your lips as you imagine it’s Ransom pinching your nipples and running his cock up and down your slit.

“Fuck, please…fuck me,” your lips part, as you press the vibrator harder against your clit. You’re trembling, close, so close to coming again as someone silently opens your door.

“Jelly beans?” Ransom’s eyes drop to your parted legs and your dripping sex. He can’t take his eyes off your pert nipples. He licks his lips, stepping closer to the bed to get a better look at your cunt. “Fuck, you a little harder with that vibrator, kitten. Use it like it’s a big cock you can’t handle.”

“What? Ah—” you drop the vibrator as Ransom stands in front of your bed. Your eyes grow wide as you realize he just watched you fuck yourself with a vibrator. “HUGH!”

“Hmm…you didn’t put it inside,” he says as if you are not naked in front of him. “Keep those legs open and show me how you touch yourself.”

“What? NO! Get out!” voice higher than usual, you yell at Ransom. “Leave.”

“It’s only fair, kitten,” fuck, he dips one knee onto the mattress, and then his hands are next to your feet. Ransom just looks at your dripping sex, while licking his plush lips. “No, I got a better idea. Spread those legs wider and let me have a closer look. I think you did it wrong.”

“Hugh, what the fuck,” you grasp for the blanket to cover your modesty. “Stop making fun of me! Hahaha…I masturbated. It’s only natural. I have needs, you have needs…everyone has needs. Now get the fuck out!”

“Another time then,” he flashes you a grin. “I bet you will cum even harder imagining it’s me fucking you roughly from behind. One hand on your hip and the other around your throat. I’ll mount you like an animal, kitten…”

And then, he just leaves your bed and the room.

Your mouth still hangs open long after Ransom left the room. All you can think about is the things he said, and, to your shame, you end what you started, imaging all the things he told you he’ll do to you…

Ransom smirks when you see him three weeks later, at a get-together of your brother’s friends. You wanted to stay in your room and sit this one out, but Y/B/N forced you to leave your room and join them for a round of spin the bottle.

“I hate this game,” you grumble under your breath as it’s your turn to spin the bottle. “What do I have to do?”

“I know,” the girl Ransom brought to Y/B/N's birthday party last time smirks at you. “You will kiss and make out with the person for let’s say ten minutes.”

“Erica, that’s against the rules,” oddly Ransom is the one speaking up. “We all only had five minutes!”

“She’s new to the game and whoever ends up with her upstairs must show her the ropes,” God, you hate that girl so much. Well, at least it’s only her, Jamie, Patricia your brother, and Ransom at this point.

“I’ll do it as long it’s not her,” you return her fake smile, but narrow your eyes. “We all agree I don’t have to make out with my brother either.”

“Spin the bottle, kid,” she smirks. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” spinning the bottle you hope it will not land on her. She’s the last person you want to make out with. You take a deep breath and wait for the bottle to stop and to feel your heart speed up. 

“RANSOM? You got Ransom,” she hiccups. “No! You won’t make out with Ransom. Spin again!”

“Whoa, no!” Ransom grunts. “You made the rules and wanted her to spend ten minutes in heaven so,” you almost whimper when Ransom holds out his large hand, “I’ll show her the ropes.”

“Ransom,” your brother warns, earning a chuckle from Ransom while Jamie and Patricia watch Ransom wrap his arm around your waistline to guide you out of the living room. “I’m warning you!”

“I’ll be gentle, Y/B/N,” Y/B/N gives his friend a stern look. “Promised. I’m a giver after all…”

“Finally, alone,” Ransom moves you into the room. His hands are on your hips and his face so close that you whimper when he leans impossible closer to peck your nose. “What do you want to do? We’ve got ten minutes.”

“I don’t know,” you lick your lips, wondering if you can ask Ransom to put his hand down your pants or to touch your breasts. Maybe he wants to kiss your neck or lips first. Or you could put your hands down his pants. 

“How about we play cards or switch the laptop on, pump up the volume, and pretend to make out. I could tell them you let me rail your pussy too,” your face falls as you realize, Ransom doesn’t want to spend ten minutes in heaven with you. “Maybe we just sit on the bed and wait ten minutes?”

“Yeah, sure. Later you can tell your buddies that you made fun of me,” you wrap your hands around his wrists to take his hands off your hips. “How about you go back downstairs, and I’ll stay in my room, just like I wanted to do. Tell them I got shark-week or whatever makes you look better.”

You plop down onto your bed, immediately turning your back on Ransom. “Y/N, you’re my best friend’s sister. Well, my only friend.”

“You’ve got dozens of friends, Hugh. Don’t lie.”

“He’s the only real friend I got, and I can’t fool around with his lil’ sis. He’ll kill me or worse, stop being my friend,” he tries to explain. Ransom puts one hand on your shoulder, but you slap it away.

“Eat shit, Hugh. You’re so full of yourself but can’t even kiss me to make things believable. Hell, you could’ve at least pretend you want to make out with me. I will look like an idiot in front of Erica,” he sits on the bed next to you, frowning as you bury your face in the pillow to hide the tears running down your cheeks.  

“Come on, jelly beans. Don’t tell me you want me to kiss you or do things to you,” he sighs as you do not answer. “Fine, I’ll just sit here and wait the minutes to pass.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone, Drysdale. Go back to your friends and tell them you didn’t want to do things with me—” he doesn’t leave. Ransom waits fifteen minutes before he leans over you to peck your cheek.

Your brother will size him up later that day, telling Ransom to watch his back.

Everyone else will believe Ransom made out with you as he came back downstairs, grinning like the cat that got the cream…

“Whatcha doing?” a few weeks, after the disaster you will call your ten minutes in heaven with Ransom for the rest of your life, Ransom watches you pick a few flowers. “Stealing flowers?”

“The lawn belongs to no one, Hugh. This means the daisies are for free,” you won’t stop picking flowers only as Ransom is watching you. “What do you want? My brother is not here.”

“Yeah, I heard they left you all alone once again,” he crouches down next to you to pick a marigold, lifting the small flower small he sighs. “I wanted to talk to you about the other day.”

“Hugh, that’s long forgotten. You didn’t want to make out with me, no biggie,” you get up and turn to leave. “My parents don’t like spending time with me, why would you?”

“What? I—” Ransom sighs as you run off once again, leaving him alone, still the single flower in his hands. 

“You’re too cute,” one of Y/B/N friends purrs in your ear. Tonight, you decided on a light sundress and to put on more make-up than usual. If you want to forget about your stupid crush on Ransom, you must find a nice guy asking you out. “How about you put those pretty red lips around my dick?”

“She’s not interested,” you find yourself behind Ransom’s back once again. “Get lost.”

“I was talking to her. Get out of my way, Drysdale,” the guy doesn’t want to give in. “You can’t fuck any girl with a pulse.”

“Eat shit,” he wraps his arm around your waistline, hand moving to your ass to grope it. “She’s my little fiery kitten. Leave my girl alone.”

“Hugh,” you yelp as he hurriedly guides you out of the house. “Where are we going, Hugh? Hey, wait.” Ransom doesn’t say a word. He guides you toward his car, muttering something under his breath. 

“You’ll not go back to that party. I’ll drive you somewhere else. How can Y/B/N bring those vultures here?” since your faked ten minutes in heaven you can feel their friendship is strained. Ransom spends less time with your brother and Y/B/N doesn’t talk as much about his friend than before. “You’ll get in my car, and I will take you to my apartment.”

“Why am I here, Hugh?” watching Ransom strip his jacket off you sigh deeply. “Will you answer me or not?”

“I don’t want you to flirt with those assholes,” he’s on you in a blink, cups your face gently like he did the first time he kissed you. “I want you to be only mine.”

The kiss is soft and innocent, but his hands wander to your ass to grope it roughly. You open your mouth and let Ransom slip his tongue inside. It’s your first real kiss and it feels so good your heart does somersaults. “Hugh!”

“Ransom to you, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips. He silences you with his lips as his arms wrap tightly around your waistline. “You’re mine, kitten. No other guy can talk to you or touch you. I waited long enough to make a move. To hell with my promise to your brother. He had something going on with my ex. Fuck bros before hos.”

“’m not a hoe,” you complain but wrap your arms around Ransom’s neck. 

“No, you are my sweet lil’ kitten,” he breathes against your lips. “Fuck, I’m so going to ruin you, baby. I’ll make you my dirty girl and when I put a ring on your finger, you’ll be Mrs. Dirty Girl Drysdale.”

“Well, I want to see that ring first, Ransom,” Ransom hoists you up and you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around his body as he carries you toward his bedroom. “Wait! You want to ruin me right now?”

“Uh-yeah. I didn’t put rose petals on the floor and bed and lit candles for no reason. I planned on ruining your sweet little cunt tonight,” he smirks when you look up at him, frowning deeply.

“I hope you got some condoms too because I won’t have your babies so soon,” his eyes darken, and you know he will devour you tonight.

Honestly, you can’t wait for Ransom to lay claim on your body….

“Do I have to go back home?” you spent the weekend with Ransom, or rather in his arms. After the first time, he made love to you, he refused to let you go. “My brother will ask questions, my parents, not so much.”

“We will tell him I wrecked your little pussy so good you couldn’t call him,” Ransom snickers as you look at him to give him an angry pout. “Okay, we will tell him we made gentle love?” he furrows his brows now. “Not good.”

“We will tell him you brought me to your home to save me from his douche of a friend. If he doesn’t like we had sex, he can eat shit.”

“Language, kitten,” he purrs, already rolling you onto your back again to nuzzle your neck. “I think you need another lesson. My tongue can’t wait to taste you again, dirty girl…”

“Show me what you’ve got, Ransom Drysdale…”

Many years down the road you are wearing his ring, and Ransom, he calls you his dirty girl sometimes.

But most of the time he calls you the love of his life or, if he wants to tease you, he calls you jelly beans…

Tags in reblog.

[vicegrips-fr]

EDIT: decided to change some things about Star Eater’s backstory to make better sense of who he is and why he ended up where he did. Please check it out if you’ve got the time. :>

Star Eater got a new dragon and updated look! 

His old dragon was an ancient and it never really felt right I guess? Anyway, this suits him and his personality so much better. He’s a mod addict with a huge personality who runs the nightclub BLISS and though it hasn’t changed much since I got him over a year ago, you can read some of his lore below! :)

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

Star Eater is only a nickname; some say it’s from the way he can make or break an entertainer’s career, either burying them or elevating them to stardom depending on what suits his needs. 

Or maybe he just likes the sound of it. 

Who knows?

He actually has a soft spot for down on their luck musicians, but don’t go spreading that around. People will start to think he’s easy to take advantage of or something.

His real name is Juice Jones, a once upon a time white collar trust fund kid with a penchant for music. What started out as a hobby turned into a full blown career path for Juice, a fact that would prove to be the unmaking of what little relationship he and his father had.

While JJ was busy with record deals and rabid fans, his father was growing more and more tired of his son’s party boy antics and lack of interest in the company. That company being Condor Industries, second largest manufactorer of cybernetic body modifications after Nexsystems Incorporated.

continued after the cut!

Even though JJ had chosen a different path from the one his father had laid out for him, he still badgered him into coming in to sit in on meetings. His hope was that once JJ had gotten all of this rockstar shit out of his system he would be at least somewhat prepared to take up his father’s mantle one day. 

No dice.

Whenever JJ did show up he was always late or hungover (most of the time both) and completely uninterested in what was going on or being said. His younger sister on the otherhand was the perfect child. Fiercely loyal to the company and their father, always doing as he asked without ever blinking an eye no matter the request.

Not only did JJ want no part in the company, he actively smeared their name (and other corporations in general) in several not-so-subtle lyrics, causing all sorts of rumors about where their famiily’s money was really going. 

There was some hypocrisy in this, however, seeing as JJ was buring through his daddy’s credit cards instead of using his own wealth when he could help it. This is where his mod addcition began and would be the final nail in the coffin between father and son.

Sick to death of dealing with his son’s aforementioned mod addiction, partying, and overall just making him look bad, his father finally cut him off and threw him out completely. 

At first Star Eater didn’t care. Why should he? He was wealthy on his own and doing just fine. Sadly, this would not last.

For a while things were fine. Juice was huge in NN. He sold out every show and lived it up, now with the added benefit of the weight his father placed around his neck gone and buried. But eventually his crazy lifestyle would catch up to him.

His mod addiction ended up fucking him over when, finally, something went wrong, leaving him with a malfuction. This malfuction caused him to sometimes glitch, getting him stuck on a word and repeating it over and over. The only fix that seemed to help was a temporary one: a smack upside the head.

Naturally, this messed with his music career. No mod-doc was able to find a permanent fix. For whatever reason, it would always return no matter how many times he had something replaced, leading experts to believe it was a bit of bad tech that had simply done too much damage to the actual meat inside his head.

Depressed and angry, Juice cut himself off from the world. He stopped playing music for the masses and turned down his record label begging him for the next album. He didn’t stop giving into his bad habits though. 

Only now instead of partying for fun it was to forget.  It was around this time that a chance encounter changed the course of his life for the better.

That miracle was a man named Chaka, the kingpin of Neo Necropolis. 

They met in one of Chaka’s nightclubs after he was getting a little too rowdy. The kind of rowdy where you break shit that isn’t yours. Pissed, JJ was pulled into the back of the club for a little chat.  What started out as a shakedown turned into a conversation about business and JJ would shock even himself with how much of his father’s boring business teachings had actually stuck. 

With the two hitting it off so well and a new nightclub set to open soon, Chaka offered him a position as a sort of business partner. He’d run the new nightclub and be the face of it while Chaka would take a back seat, dealing with the paperwork and shit that JJ didn’t really care for behind the scenes. 

Just like he’d knew it would be, the nightclub was a huge success. BLISS, as it was called, became the place to be practically overnight. Anyone who’s anyone rubs elbows in BLISS. It’s a win win for both of them. Chaka doesn’t have to bother himself with being there in person all the time (he’s very busy man afterall), and Juice- now calling himself Star Eater- gets to enjoy doing what he does best these days. 

Despite what you might have heard from some sore losers, Star is a decent guy. Most of the time, anyway. His mod addiction hasn’t gotten any better though and there are moments when his speech still glitches out.

Oh, well. You win some, you lose some, right?

[suckerfordr3]

Priorities - Part V

“I moved out here just about four years ago. I got hired as an analyst and packed my bags, moved countries and didn’t look back, I was all of 21. I wanted to have an adventure. It was more about exploring a new city and country than about the job but I fell in love with it, the job was great and I was good, I worked hard got promoted even signed on some clients of my own and it paid well and I was happy. Monaco is barmy. It’s like no other place I’ve been before and at some point I got caught up in it all. I’d met a group of friends and they kind of adopted me into their life and with them came the parties. I didn’t date much aside from you know casually, nothing serious. There was this one guy, a trust fund rich type, we were friends, maybe friends is stretching it a little but we knew each other well enough and after a bad day at work on a random yacht party by the marina, we hooked up. We didn’t talk about it afterwards, it was a meaningless encounter. Just getting out stress and…” you pause from your rambling, taking in a deep breath and you continue.

“I realised around two months later that I hadn’t had a proper period, I’m not exactly the most regular person so I wasn’t worried but I went in for a check up and they told me the one thing I didn’t really want to hear. I was pregnant.”

“I decided to keep it, it wasn’t a religious or morality thing, I just kind of knew that I wanted it.. him, I wanted him. A couple of months later Luke popped out. It was all kinds of drama, from my family, my friends thought I’d lost my marbles. And he, uhh Luke’s father, I mean more of a sperm donor I guess, he bailed. Stopped hanging out with any of our friends, I think he still lives here but he didn’t want to be around. So I had Luke all for my own. And he’s 2, he’s a brown haired little boy and he’s adorable. And there’s not one part of me that regrets any of the sleepless nights or even the 14 hour delivery or the constant financial worry of raising a kid in this fucking expensive city, he’s my everything.” You didn’t cry like you’d expected, instead you felt a little relived to be able to tell Daniel something real about you. If it was a deal breaker then it would be his loss, Ethan’s words rang in your ears.

“I haven’t really dated since then, Luke is two, and you’re the first guy who I’ve gone on a date with since becoming a single mom. And whatever this is to you, a random hookup or if you’re looking for a date, a relationship, a cliff diving drinking buddy or a whatever in me, I just felt like you should know. Cause he’s literally a part of me and the most important thing in my life.” You finish speaking, and evaluate quickly in you head your monologue, and you decide whilst it wasn’t the most eloquent speech, it was good enough for carrying through your sentiment.

Daniel hadn’t made a peep till you had finished speaking. He carefully unfurled his arms from around you and stepped inside. You didn’t follow him. You stood running through all the worst case scenarios before shrugging on your discarded top. If you are going to be rejected then maybe having some clothes on might save you some dignity. When Daniel returns you see him carrying out a bottle of water and your phone. Some part of your brain thinks that maybe he’ll ask you to find a ride home.

Instead he hands you your phone and opens the bottle of water and gives it to you. You drink from it wordlessly and put it down. Daniel then proceeds to place his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks, making you lock eyes with him. You notice how intense and deep his brown eyes are.

He pulls you into a kiss. It’s different from any of the kisses you’ve shared before, Daniel moves his lips against yours, open mouthed but tenderly as if to shower you with affection. His hands hold you in place so he has all the control but there’s no fighting or dominance displayed. He kisses you and it feels vulnerable. And your heart melts more than a little when he pulls away.

“Thank you for telling me y/n. I can’t even imagine what a fucking cunt Luke’s father was to abandon not only you but his kid, ducking coward. I’ve known you for all of two weeks and I don’t think anyone will be able to pry me away from you if you’d have me. Which brings me to your little ramble about this being a random hookup, it’s not, I told you the first day I met you that I feel like we clicked. And I’ve got killer instincts, y/n I really really want you” you feel your eyes water a little as you let out a tiny laugh for being an emotional wreck.

“So if you’ll have me I’d like to date you, I promise not to steal you away from your little man, he’s the most important person in your life and I’ll strive for at least second. I just would really like to spend time with you and figure this out. And honestly you being a hot sexy young mom is kinda of a turn on” Daniel adds the last part with a cheeky smile, you can’t help but wiggle your eyebrows at his statement earning a laugh from Daniel.

“So you big idiot can I see a picture of him already or do I have to grovel?” You smile up at him and pull up your phone to show him Luke, you show him some pictures from the ultrasounds, videos from his birthdays, even him taking his first steps, Danny coos and awes at his baby pictures, the last one you show him is one of you holding him for the first time, you’re crying, your hair is sweaty and you look like a huge wreck. So you try to brush pass it but Daniel swipes the phone out of your hand running inside and sitting down on the sofa You let out you a sigh of disapproval, “Danny no give that back I’m huge and nine months pregnant, if you want to say new born Luke I’ll show you something else” you run behind him, you stand in front of him and try to swat your phone away from him hand but he’s much stronger than you so you stand no chance. He pins your hands together easily with one hand makes you sit on top of him and traps you with his arm whilst zooming in on the picture.

“Shut up babe, this is beautiful, was anyone with you during your delivery?” He says looking with awe at the picture. You give up struggling and lean into his bare chest, his stubble tickles your neck “My sister had our whole family over for her my nephews birth, I missed it cause I was just working but mum kept me in loop, god 14 hours must have been tough” sounding a little sad towards the end imaging you going through childbirth without support.

“Yah no umm I was alone, I had a really nice nurse, didn’t speak much English though and my brain couldn’t really deal with speaking French at that moment but she coaxed me through everything, really nice woman so I wasn’t fully alone.”

Daniel nuzzled his nose behind your ear and then places a kiss on your cheek mumbling “I’m sorry you had to go through that” sounding genuinely disheartened at the thought.

“Hey it’s alright don’t pity me, I’m happy I’m good and it wasn’t all bad I got a little dude out of it, now I’m never alone.”

You turn around to straddle him, kissing him once on his nose and then again on his dimples before placing a soft peck on his lips to let him know that it’s okay.

“Can I meet him? If that’s not too quick ” Daniel asks you and you don’t really know what to say. “I didn’t really think about that” his face fell at your words. You think for a moment, before saying “But I think I can arrange that” Daniel smiles widely at you “really?” he asks, “yah sure why not?” You tell him smiling at how happy that made him.

“You know I haven’t seen my nephew in two years, he’s grown up so much and I didn’t get to see it, I’m gone all the time any way but I used to get the summers and winters with him, I’m worried he’s forgotten me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true babe” you say as you rub his back, “you’ll see him soon, I’m sure you’re planning a trip as soon as it’s feasible. Some things in life are out of our control and no one saw this pandemic coming, so don’t blame yourself for not being there for him, I’m sure he’s got a lot of growing up left to do and you’ll be there through that. Plus I’m sure you’re his hero, an F1 driver for an uncle, he must be your biggest fan”

“You know?” Daniel looks up to you surprised.

“I didn’t until today actually. Ethan my best mate and emergency babysitter found you on Netflix, you looked very hot, didn’t watch much though in case you weren’t okay with it”

“no no that’s alright I’m pretty sure millions have seen it by now, nothing is there that I hadn’t approved to be put in or filmed. I was going to tell you but you beat me to the confession portion of our date. So are you impressed by me being such a hunky high performance athlete?” Daniel asks you whilst wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. “Nope you’re still a dweeb, just one that is apparently paid millions to drive around in circles” you tell him in jest. Daniel feigns offence at your comment “I don’t drive in circles, I drive in complex circuits in the fastest and most competitive motorsport in existence” he tells you. “Sure buddy, whatever helps you sleep at night” you tell him trying to return to the lighthearted rapport you shared with him, Daniel apparently has the same idea as he proceeds to tickle you. You let out a shriek telling him to stop and trying to get away “nope not until you admit I’m a sporting god and the pinnacle of human performance” he says smiling at you struggling.

You were still sitting on his lap so your best bet was to free yourself and make a run for it, but Daniel had other intentions, sensing your motive he tightens his grasp on your waist and moves you and himself so that he has you pinned onto the couch with him on top of you.

You’re too busy laughing and squirming to realise that you in all of that movement the top that you were wearing had ridden up leaving your midriff exposed down to your underwear. Neither of you had bothered getting dressed after drying off and you could see all of Daniel’s tattoos, you thought to yourself that he really is a work of art.

Daniel’s hand stopped moving, you stopped laughing and the two of you locked eyes. His eyes burned with need and you are pretty sure yours mirrored his, it had been way too long since you felt this kind of desire. He hooked his fingers into the lower hem of your top and pulled it off you wordlessly. You pull him towards yourself trying to get him to kiss you but he denies you. Instead he says to you “let me take care of you” you raise an eyebrow questioningly but you quickly understand what he means when he palms your breasts from the outside letting out a groan at how well they filled your hands. Thank god for pregnancy. You moaned when he slipped his hand past your nipples which never quite recovered from breast feeding and were quite sensitive to any touch. Daniel noticing your sensitivity decided to zero in on your pleasure. He tool your bra off deftly and took an areola into his mouth. You let out a loud moan when his teeth made contact Daniel deciding not to push you too hard the first time around let you go and maintained a more gentle touch. His one hand was cupping your other tit and the other wandered to your underwear. Slipping through the band he used the pads of his fingers to locate your clit, he knew he found it when you let out a breathy moan. His ministrations continued but having his hand and mouth on you was getting overwhelming, “Danny I literally haven’t had sex in almost three years, I’m not going to last if you continue like this” you said to him breathlessly.

“Three years really babe?” He says releasing your nipple from his mouth. “Yup” you say pulling him in for a kiss, but before his lips touches yours he whispers to you, “better make this worth the wait then” and he plunges two of his fingers into your already wet folds, your moan is swallowed by his kiss and you realise you might be in some amount of trouble in the arms of this man.

Link for part 1

Link for part 6

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

[poppy-metal]

boy-next-door! eren who ur parents make babysit u while they're gone for the weekend. acts like he hates it at first but is literally jumping at the golden opportunity of having u to himself x the weekend. when u start actin a lil bratty he quips back with "im in charge while ur parents r gone. so you do as i say x the next 2 days, princess. " fucks u on every surface of the house after maybe?? gotta teach u some manners

and then u do some soft shit like watching a horror movie together just for u to get scared, tucking ur face in his neck and gripping onto his shirt for dear life while he laughs at u🥺🥺🥺🥺 what a baby sheeeeeeshhh

why does the reluctant and shitty babysitter trope always hit. please, you're 18 and more than old enough to take care of yourself but you're a 'trust fund baby' according to eren, and your parents just don't trust you. but somehow eren of all people, the bane of your fucking existence has your parents upmost respect so you get stuck with him :///

does absolutely horrible things like eating your ice cream out of the tub with an oversized spoon, hip checks you whenever he passes, messes your hair up, smushes you against the counter or the fridge whenever he passes you just to annoy you, even though the feeling of his belt digging into your ass sends a thrill through you everytime. you're at eachothers throats but there's nothing you can do about because this guy is a fucking saint to your parents.

you doubt your parents would kiss the ground he walks on if they knew how he fucked you in their bed , folding their daughters legs right up to her chest as he pounded into her little cunt and said "yeah? yeah? does the little trust fund princess like having her little pussy fucked? fuckin' cum on me"

but when he lets you cuddle up to him when he puts on a scary movie, you forget you're supposed to hate him yourself.

[oreomonsterhunter]

Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself.  When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life.  If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time.  It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho.  Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless.  Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit.  Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky.  It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones.  You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed.  They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light.  Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case.  “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again.  More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued.  Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole.  And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside.  Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage.  The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees.  You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment.  Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available.  Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day.  You wanted a cappuccino, dammit.  And chocolate babka from the cafe.  No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you.  It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you.  No need to wallow a few minutes in.  And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step.  You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before.  You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time.  And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday.  You might meet the love of your life today.  And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings.  You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer.  “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled.  You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back.  The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious.  You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting.  I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register.  You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter.  “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot.  I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine.  Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short.  A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair.  You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast.  You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise.  He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat.  A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head.  He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you.  A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth.  Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened.  “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open.  You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up.  “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you.  I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand.  You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest.  “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin.  So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk.  “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately.  “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter.  “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand.  “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky.  “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”  And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee.  “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning!  And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration.  Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho.  You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics.  The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation.  “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills.  Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now.  “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement.  Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t.  I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy.  You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message.  You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket.  “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable.  “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.”  He took a long sip.  “What time is your date anyway?  Eight in the morning?  They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again.  Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy?  You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet.  You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth.  Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself.  “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned.  “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again.  You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it.  You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it.  Seriously?  That was it?  No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed.  “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating.  The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside.  When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face.  You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair.  This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee.  “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features.  “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile.  You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.  “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger.  And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh.  “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.”  Minho looked at you sharply.  “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone.  This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine?  Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him.  “Ok fine, no arguments from me.  Tell me about her.  Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering.  He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.”  Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly.  The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements.  “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?”  Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead.  “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile.  “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win.  If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard.  “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app.  You’re wasting your time.  And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same.  Minho was just less polite in his delivery.  But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either.  Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you.  So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim.  And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication.  You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea.  Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension.  “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly.  “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs.  “Yeah, no.  I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him.  “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too.  I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle.  “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought.  “I promise I’ll do my best.  You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand.  He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.  No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag.  You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger.  “What are some of your hobbies?  Favorite color?  Ooh, what about first date activities you love?  Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave.  You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore.  But you didn’t totally hate this guy.  And another part of you kind of felt bad for him.  He’d never experienced love!  Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there.  And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too.  It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love.  Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected.  He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically.  He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat.  “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised.  He was...going along with this?  You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth.  His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates.  You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas.  Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds.  The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date.  You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages.  The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz.  You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched.  He left?  Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines.  Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea.  But what on earth had happened with Minho?  Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency.  You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear.  His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack.  “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was.  “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated.  “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing.  Obviously not.  You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly.  “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do.  You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him.  “Who leaves in the middle of a date?  With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time.  Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what?  She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.  “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over.  “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice.  But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words.  Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer.  “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy.  “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly.  “But you’re still going on a practice date.  Tomorrow night, six o’clock.  Meet me at the cafe.  If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived.  “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly.  You may or may not have lied about the time.  Just in case.

“The queen is never late.  Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped.  Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected.  You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself.  “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly.  It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill.  “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.”  He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude.  Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time.  He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you.  “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy.  “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out.  “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure.  I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him.  “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is.  It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.”  But then he frowned slightly.  “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded.  “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed.  You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps.  “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement.  You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner.  And there it was—the zoo!  All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all.  Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you.  “But where are the lights?”  Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo.  You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic.  “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago?  For Christmas?  Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you.  You nearly snapped back before you realized.  It was January.  February next week.  Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch.  You threw your arms over your head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then.  I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk.  Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you?  He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out.  “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened.  I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two.  You must be ancient.”  You picked up your head to look at him.  A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona.  If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand.  “Come on, get up.  Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand.  Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this?  I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you.  “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright?  Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up.  You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had.  You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet.  But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge.  You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already.  Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow.  Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street.  Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth.  “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry.  You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather.  You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat.  “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street.  Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue.  Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that.  Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything.  It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that.  So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place?  Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place.  And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body.  Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it.  In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike.  You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby.  Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least.  “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers.  Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically.  You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door.  You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall.  Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows.  The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed.  When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair.  He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway.  It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy.  Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall.  Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine.  A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching.  “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn.  He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him.  “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes.  “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him.  Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind.  Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet.  So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom.  You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared.  “Here,” he said, voice gruff.  He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt.  Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully.  Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door.  “The bathroom.  I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully.  As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs.  You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time.  Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison.  And fleece-lined, too.  You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen.  When he noticed you, he waved you closer.  “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts.  “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile.  “Cheese it is then.  And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list.  When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion.  You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it.  On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping.  You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment.  Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing.  “Oh shit, sorry.  I mean, you can go home if you want.  I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay.  I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch.  You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter.  You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor.  An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote.  “Yeah right,” he scoffed.  “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick.  “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly.  “Drama.  Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him.  “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it.  Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours.  “Best out of three,” he smirked.  “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice.  You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy.  Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once.  Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time.  Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life.  Until the pizza arrived, at least.  You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you.  “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback.  “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully.  “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right?  Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question.  “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker.  I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza.  “Oh please yes,” you teased.  “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look.  “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza.  So you were a pity friend, great.  Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex.  You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right?  That was a joke.  I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours.  “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.”  You snorted, biting back a small smile.  Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined.  “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night.  We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids.  This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose.  “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason.  Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch.  “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said.  “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want.  I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment.  But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words.  And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner.  Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted.  Not to Minho, though.  He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started.  “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed.  “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more.  To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were.  You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise.  How had it gotten so late?  “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home.  It’s late.”  Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands.  You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home.  You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants.  “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door.  Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom.  And a large bed with dark sheets.  Why was your heart pounding?  Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting.  You shook your head, hurrying out of the room.  Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush.  What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho.  You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps.  Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well.  Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him.  “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression.  “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun.  Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust.  We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public.  No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed.  “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin.  “You might be onto something, actually.  How about you come up with our next practice date.  That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class?  With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you.  “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right.  “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours.  “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did.  The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit.  You’d already poked fun at him.  Who showed up to a date wearing sweats?  Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit.  Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda.  You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples.  Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up?  You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile.  What were you so worked up about?  It’s not like this was a real date.  You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho.  On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all.  You eyed his sweatpants enviously.  You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat.  You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls.  Then you caught sight of the names on the board.  “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’?  What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you.  “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave.  Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head.  “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?  Call me whatever you want.  Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked.  Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips.  You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane.  Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight.  Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow.  It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise.  Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball.  Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success.  Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison.  Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat.  “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him.  “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’.  This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far.  When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans.  You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you.  “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you.  This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling.  “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you.  I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him.  Your cheeks felt warm.  Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three.  As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly.  He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck.  “I’m sorry you paid for so many games.  We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured.  You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky.  “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah.  An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night.  Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment.  And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream.  Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat.  Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop.  You simply watched him, enraptured.  He had hardly opened up at all to you at first.  Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho.  The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend.  Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it.  Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment.  And the look on his face...pride.  He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew.  When had Minho stopped being prickly?  Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite?  When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile.  “See something you like?” he sassed you.  But his remark was devoid of bitterness.  It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting.  It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly.  Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him.  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers.  But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively.  You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in.  Not tonight.  Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell.  And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot.  It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb.  Firstly, you and Minho were not dating.  Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents.  And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends.  You had nothing to worry about.  Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends.  What if they hated you?  Or worse, what if they pitied you?  You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you.  You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first.  “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure.  “Hi!  Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back.  Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open.  Now or never, you told yourself firmly.  Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos.  Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze.  “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right.  You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn.  “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile.  “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think?  Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag.  “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine.  Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.”  You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off.  “It’s all empty threats with that one.  Mostly.  I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake.  “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos.  Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered.  You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race.  With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch.  You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track.  Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust.  Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips.  “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well.  “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining.  Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse.  “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up.  “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race.  Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second.  You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more.  Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round.  “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you.  He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake.  “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too.  We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled.  “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?”  The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well.  Half of the group dissolved into giggles.  Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you.  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again.  The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you.  “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together.  “The food?  Or am I going to starve?  Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh.  The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you.  Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand.  You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene.  The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing.  Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side.  You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous.  “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter.  “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving.  “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate.  “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more.  “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza.  You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho.  He was still watching you intently, and you frowned.  “What?  Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly.  Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear.  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.  I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long.  Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out.  Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours.  Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows.  Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation.  You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours.  Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly.  “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving.  You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well.  “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live?  Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk.  Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything.  “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern.  The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them.  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to.  It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.”  You narrowed your eyes at him.  “I’m not some little girl in need of protection.  It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes.  “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did.  He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply.  “You don’t have a roommate.  If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic.  And not really wanting to.  “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips.  “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys.  “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time.  Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet.  Unsure of yourself.  You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case.  And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up.  Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening.  This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it.  The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours.  You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you.  You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog.  Maybe a cat.  Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop.  “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently.  Were you listening to a word I said?  Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend.  Right.  Your realization didn’t mean much.  Why were you surprised?  You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now?  Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change.  Why would it?  He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool.  You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him.  Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up?  You were always bound for disappointment.  Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality.  “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine.  Thank you for walking me back.  I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight.  How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him?  His face was burned into your mind’s eye.  Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes.  You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears.  Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully.  Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours.  You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad.  When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.”  Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away.  Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out.  You didn’t.  “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed.  Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey.  You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly.  When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low.  You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours.  For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch.  Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air.  But you didn’t want it to be over.  Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy.  He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline.  He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his.  His lips were plush, a little dry.  Real.  Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver.  You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands.  And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air.  Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips.  He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?”  Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before.  You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together.  And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight.  You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose.  He scrunched his face up, making you giggle.  But you needed to know one thing.  “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating.  Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him.  “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.  I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest.  Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible.  You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused.  You hummed in agreement, nodding against him.  “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me.  I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying.  But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[hoeforau]

~🤍~

Taeil

...

Johnny - Youngho

I’ll send all my loving to you - @sehunniepotwrites

24.8k - soulmate au!, friends to lovers au!

My favorite Johnny fic out there, by far. It has just the right amount of angst and fluff and just wholesome shit, you know? I’ve already praised this fic on my side blog (see here) but I just had to put it on here too. Bless you for this masterpiece 💛

The legend - @moonttaeil

30k - fratboy Johnny

Welp, might have read this when I was deep in my Johnny feels and now it won’t leave my mind. Frat au! lovers, this is one of, if not the best, frat series there is. If you haven’t already read their frat house series, DO IT.

Taeyong

...

Yuta

...

Doyoung

The trust fund baby - @moonttaeil

25k - frat/richboi Doyoung, fake dating au!

Y’all when I say I cried... This is a really bittersweet story but I LOVED IT. There’s also a part. 2 and it’s just as good. I’ll say it, Xiaojun deserved better, change my mind.

Atlas - @wincore

15.4k - fwb au!, college au!

Okay so this fic fucking wrecked me. I cried, maybe a bit too much. I can’t even express how much I liked it, it’s that good. It has a very, I’d say, “poetic” side to it. So beautiful.

A Marriage of Inconvenience - @lucaswithnoshirt

22.5k - victorian au!, arranged marriage au!

Now I have a soft spot for these particular aus and can I just say that it met every single one of my expectations. I want writer Doyoung as my husband, pls.

Ten -Chittaphon

Une seconde avant noël - @127-mile

5.2k - exes au!

Angst but it ends well. This was so cute, we need more Ten fics like this one in the world.

Ocean eyes - @lucaswithnoshirt

15k - mermaid au!, platonic au!

Okay, so this is probably one of the first fics I’ve read on this website, and it totally drew me in. I’m not used to platonic aus (and I have to admit I wished they at least kissed one but oh well) but as weird as it sounds, it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, I quite liked it! Very cute.

Jaehyun - Yoonoh

...

Winwin - Sicheng

...

Jungwoo

...

Lucas - Xuxi/Yukhei

...

Mark

19-1664 TPX: Red - @ceruleanskies

8.6k - soulmate au!, assassin au!

Let’s be honest, soulmates au is probably one of the best aus that exists out there, and this fic does it justice. The angst is just *chef kiss*. This is part of a very interesting series that I sadly haven’t yet read in its entirety, but definitely will do in the future.

Xiaojun

...

Hendery - Kunhang

...

Renjun

Huang Renjun’s Envy - @misfitneo

17.5k - mafia au!

This is technically the pt.3 of the Seven deadly sins series by the same author, which I highly recommend too. This one was just hitting the Renjun vibes, you know. ouch ouch ouch, much angst but I love it.

One foot in the Golden life - @nsheetee

9.7k - richkid au!

Oh oh oh now that was so good. There is so few good Renjun fics out there, but this one gets the gold from me (see what I did there?).

Jeno

pussy blocked. : @luvdsc

31k - college au!, fuckboi/girl au!

Okay, I’m not a pancakes gal but... I would gladly sacrifice myself for those.

That’s it, that’s the review/description. Just go read it.

Of captains and college boys: @neocitybynight

8.2k - hockey au!

Part 2 here. (14.7k)

This fucking broke me. I felt every word slam my heart with a hockey stick until my very own soul shook.

Lee Jeno as a hockey player is hot, but Lee Jeno as a genuine and vulnerable human being is hotter.

Haechan - Donghyuck

Lights, Cameras, F*ck you (LDH) - @neocitybynight

31k - Hollywood au!

Now, I believe any Haechan stan has read this fic, and rightfully so. It’s like, the backbone of the Hyuck fics. It’s genuine and well-written, the story is really addictive. It even has a cute little epilogue. Anyhow, a must read.

Solaria - @jenoremii

2.5k - tattoo shop au!

Now of course I added this one to the list. Thank you for fuelling my fantasies about pretty man with tattoos and piercings, highly appreciated 🖤

Home is a feeling - @neonun-au

8.2k - fluff, christmas au...?

Soft soft soft for this. But really, anything by this author is so great. Check them out.

Baby Face - @smileysuh

14.4k - frat Hyuck, enemies to lovers au!

HA! As if I wouldn’t put this masterpiece on my list. I think it’s common knowledge by now that frat Hyuck is my shit. I wanna argue and fight with Hyuck too, if it ends the same way it does in this fic (pls, I’m begging). The entire Frat universe fics are bangers too (I might have read them all too, oops)

Jaemin

The owl and the moon - @jenoremii

7.5k - badboy Jaemin, highschool au!

I requested this one and boy oh boy was I not disappointed. Not the usual badboy fic you’d expect, but in a good way. It has a very comforting and familiar feeling to it.

Two nights, one you - @nctsworld

10.9k - fuckboi jaemin

Now this, this is the ultimate Jaemin fic. It has everything; fuckboi Jaemin, nice smut, slight enemies to lovers... what more can you ask for? This particular Jaemin lives rent free in my mind.

cat & mouse - @tyonfs

17.7k - fbw au!, college au!

So, I never thought I’d want to be Jaehyun’s sister so bad in my life but here I am. The tension and suspense was so... surreal lolz, I loved it. Looking forward to the Jeno fic in the same universe (slam dunk series).

Yangyang

...

Shotaro

...

Sungchan

...

Chenle

...

Jisung

Sweeter than honey - @luvdsc

30k - bestfriends to lovers au!, rich kids au!

!!NO SMUT!! cause we respectful hoes in this household

No but fuck off this was the cutest thing ever. This was such a nice change compared to all them 1k Jisung drabbles... bless you. I ate this up like candy, it was so so sweet omfg I can’t. The group dynamics were so wholesome and the characters URGH (here’s a short list cause I can): Shyshyshy BFF Jisung? Fat Check. Done™️ Renjun? Relatable Check. Football players Nomin (whose image will be forever engraved in my mind)? Legend Check. Insufferable Hyuck? Double Check. And the list goes on... I loved it. A must read for all the soft Jisung stans out there.

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*I know, I know, I have my favorites... feel free to send me some good fics, I’ve got nothing but time to spare

Also, this will keep getting updated cause I can’t stop myself from reading fanfics until 3am so that’s that🙃