#gig alert

[abnormalvampire64]

the fact that my phone hasnt told me TWICE that theres a GIGS stream is such a betrayal frfr

[i0134]

....and what if i start writing anime fics 😃?

[tildetanuki]

okay but hear me out:

werewolf medical alert/service dogs.

that is all.

[webnavals]

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[nerdpoe]

There are ecto-detectors in the Batcave. Sometimes, they'll go off for no discernable reason.

This is why Bruce tells the kids to behave when they're in the cave.

The entity isn't Deadman, he knows that for sure. They don't mean harm or any malicious intent, or they wouldn't be able to get past the barriers. There's no poltergeist activity, so they aren't bored and there to deliberately cause chaos.

When he opted to look through the thermal imaging one day, once the ecto-detectors stop alerting, he sees a cold spot roughly the same size as Damian. It's sitting on the edge of the cave, swinging it's feet, and just, as the kids would say, vibing.

He decides to leave it alone. The dead can't really impact the living, and it appears that this one just shows up for some peace and quiet now and then.

He tunes the detectors to this particular entity's signature and sets them to silent. He'll still get an alert, but it'll only go to him.

Months later, when he finds himself mind controlled and helpless to do anything but watch himself attack his own family, he feels a cold sensation permeate through his body, and his punch freezes in the air before he feels his arms forcibly dropped to his sides.

Then, a tween girls voice comes out of his mouth.

"Okay, I've got him restrained. What next?"

Or; Dani likes the "ambient" side of Youtube. So much that it's no longer good enough for her, and she seeks out places that have good ambience. She prefers caves, but her favorite combination is cave sounds, waterfalls, papers shuffling, distant conversation, and computer typing. This means the Batcave is literally the most perfect place ever if things get to be too much. Her second favorite sounds are snowstorms, high tech beeps, the creaking of ice, and radio chatter. So her second favorite place to hang out is in the Arctic, in some fortress made of ice. But there's not really a lot to do around it, so she doesn't go there that often. She ends up hanging around Metropolis and Gotham just due to proximity to her favorite hang out spot, mostly staying out of sight. She doesn't really care about who the Bats are, so long as they stay out of her hair. But she won't lie about getting a little bit attached from her creepy totally-not-spying thing. Then Batman gets himself mind controlled, and he's about to lay out Robin, and all Dani can think about is Vlad and his 'discipline'. She possesses Batman and forces him to stop. The gig is up. Farewell sweet hangout spot, it was her favorite.

[ja3yun]

Push My Buttons | L.HS

bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!

_____

Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.

"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.

Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.

You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.

Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.

To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 

It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 

Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.

With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.

Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.

He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.

You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.

“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”

Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.

“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.

“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.

Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.

With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.

The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.

“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.

"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt

The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.

Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 

“I don’t work here, I-”

“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.

Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration

But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 

Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.

As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.

You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.

Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.

Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 

You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.

“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 

Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 

“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 

You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.

Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 

This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.

Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.

You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.

Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 

It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 

With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.

_____

As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.

Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 

The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.

A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 

“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.

“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.

Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.

But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.

You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.

As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.

His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.

You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.

“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.

Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.

Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..

"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.

"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.

Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.

"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.

Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.

It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.

Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.

You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.

"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.

“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.

“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.

The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.

You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.

“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.

Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.

Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.

"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.

You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.

Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."

This is going to end disastrously.

_____

"Remember—"

"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.

Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.

You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.

"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.

He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'

As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.

The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.

Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.

It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.

Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.

"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.

Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.

"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.

True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.

As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.

Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.

Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.

And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.

Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.

Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.

This is what he has to tell himself every day.

He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.

As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.

But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.

"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.

You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.

Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."

You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.

Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."

His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.

Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.

As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.

You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.

But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 

"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.

"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"

Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.

Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.

His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.

Either way, you need to get this steam out. 

“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 

As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.

Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.

But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.

Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.

"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.

“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.

As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.

Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 

“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.

"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.

His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"

“Yes! Obviously!”

Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.

But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.

Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 

He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.

With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.

Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 

Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.

The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.

Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."

A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.

But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.

With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."

“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.

“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”

Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.

He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.

With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.

Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.

Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.

Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 

As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.

“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.

Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.

With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”

Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.

Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.

“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”

Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.

He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.

“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”

Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.

The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.

“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.

You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.

[ma333ve]

SOS SOS HELP ME

HE POSTED TO HIS CLOSE FRIENDS A PICTURE OF THE CITY WITH GIRL OF MY DREAMS BY JUICE WRLD

[astralnymphh]

car wrapper ellie tbh.. ౨ৎ

the vision is fresh in my mind, and nonetheless, i'm still THROBBING at the mere thought-up imagery of ellie thumbing and smoothing your car with such tender and trained pressure in her fingertips— you wish you were in its place. established as a side gig in joel’s auto body shop, she wraps cars day-to-day, hour by hour, arranged inside a well-lit, decently compact garage swarmed with the whole hardcore shebang of grunge rock and various metal genres (with a biased cling to nirvana tbh). notorious outfitting; bare, freckled, and sun-showered arms, cut delectably at the shoulders by an off-white ribbed tank worn and sweat through. those hips fitted in some low-waisted, slouchy denim, accompanied by a small metallic carabiner clip that holds all of her jangly keys. and— most markedly, stud-pierced lobes with an industrial bar bridging one ear; absolute hottie alert. now, besides appearance and attitude, i think she has some sort of inherent apt for making girls swoon. doesn't even necessarily intend to— actually, whenever she opens her mouth, a total nerd comes out! though what seems to shoot right over her head is the fact that all her oral mannerisms and idle chit-chats of, “you sure you don't want me to take a quick peek under the hood? could save you a couple of bucks..” which, with a tone so tempting and drawled in such a convincing ‘advertisey’ way, ends up easily persuading girls and brings the heat to their cheeks. so, when she sways you, you decide to slump somewhere and watch. witness; consume her expertise with your eager pupils. ellie assures she'll only be a couple hours— but to rephrase it, those handful of hours spent chatting, eye-flirting, and chuckling silently to yourselves, always routes the afternoon into her tiny office where she eats the fuck out of your pussy.

masterlist . daily click . read this . palestine mp

no i did not see those car wrapping videos on tt and no i definitely did not get this idea from them DENY DENY DENY

[metalhoops]

Steve was used to climbing out windows. Before his junior year, he’d made a habit of entering through and escaping from girls' houses unnoticed. He was stealthy. He’d learned how to scale trees and tread lightly across roof shingles with the deftness of a nocturnal animal. Yet, for the first time, he found himself escaping his own home. There was a first time for everything, right? 

Steve’s parents were home. The second Steve saw the familiar BMW pull into the Harrington’s driveway, he knew he wanted to be anywhere but home. His parents were only palatable when he had good news, but all he had to tell them was that after their last visit, The Mall had burnt down and he’d gotten a new job at a video store. He really was doing the family proud. He didn’t want to deal with it, not today. 

That’s how he found himself crawling out his bedroom window, shimmying across the guttering and trying not to sprain his ankles as he dropped onto the lawn. He headed out back, past his pool and into the woods. Usually, it was the last place you’d find Steve. He kept expecting to run into a Demogorgon or something equally as nasty. 

He walked for a while without direction, trudging through the underbrush until the rustling of leaves behind him set his teeth on edge. His body moved before his mind had time to keep up. He spun on his heels, hand scrabbling to the forest floor in search of a weapon. It supplied him with a fallen tree branch, almost too large to heft comfortably, but he did it, running on adrenaline. He came face to face with a familiar, wide-eyed boy. 

“Holy shit, Harrington. Take it down like ten notches,” the boy grumbled, showing his upturned hands as though trying to calm a startled animal. 

Hawkins was a small town, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. Steve knew the boy with deep brown eyes and dark hair, halloed by fallen leaves, was none other than Eddie Munson, or as he was colloquially known, ‘The Freak’. They’d gone to high school together. He thought the guy was due to repeat his senior year, again. He didn’t know what he was doing alone in the woods. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

You couldn’t blame him for being on high alert. Even if Eddie was someone he’d grown up with, that didn’t make him safe. Steve was still riled up after running down Billy Hargrove with his car. He was paranoid. He’d had a rough couple of years. 

“Collecting sticks,” Eddie breathed, indicating the large bundle in his hand. 

“Collecting sticks?” Steve echoed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t fathom why the guy was doing it.

“Yeah, I’m making a miniature log cabin for my D&D campaign, and you know, miniature logs are just... sticks—you don’t care, anyway. Sorry for startling you, my liege.” Steve tilted his head, thinking the acronym was familiar. 

“Is that the dragon game, with the Demogorgon and junk?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d sprouted a third head.

“How the hell do you, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, know what D&D is?” 

Steve wished people would stop calling him that. Every time he heard the stupid nickname it felt like someone was rubbing chunks of asphalt into his gravel rash. He wondered if Eddie felt the same about his title. 

The old Steve would’ve used it just to spite the guy, to see what buttons he could push, not because he wanted to but because it was expected of him. It wasn’t an excuse. He knew that. Instead, Steve shrugged his shoulders and told the truth, something the old Steve never would’ve done.

“I babysit some nerds who play it,” he confessed. 

Eddie looked at Steve in wonder. He was puzzled, amazed and, for once, a little intrigued. He’d never looked at Steve like that back in high school. The two rarely crossed paths and when they did, they never spoke. Sure, Eddie ranted about ‘jocks’ as a whole, but Steve had always just been one piece of a puzzle. It would seem redundant to yell at a patch of blue and grey for being a picture of the sky. 

“Why did you need to take up a babysitting gig?” 

To answer that, Steve had to embellish a little. Maybe he no longer liked lying about who he was, but he couldn’t exactly dump the cosmic mind fuck that was The Upside Down on some unsuspecting guy. 

“I needed money.” 

“You needed money? What, did you get cut off?” Steve shrugged in response. 

“Christ, what did you do? Piss in a family urn? Trash the house? Get a girl pregnant?” Eddie questioned.

“I think generally existing was enough to do it,” Steve mumbled, kicking at the dirt beneath his shoes. 

Eddie let out a low whistle. 

“Hey Harrington, think fast,” Eddie called, throwing the bundle of twigs in his direction. Steve dropped the branch and grabbed the bundle with wide eyes. 

“What was that for?” Steve choked. 

“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, anyway?” Eddie asked instead of responding. Steve shrugged, still cradling the bundle to his chest. 

“Avoiding my parents.” 

“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Eddie spoke. Steve responded with a shake of his head. 

“Well, you know, this really is a two-person job, so if you wanted to come back to my place, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

For some reason, Steve agreed. 

Eddie had a habit of collecting strays. 

There was the cat he’d kept under the bed when he was six and the gathering of stray dogs that hung around the back of the trailer park that he’d been feeding for as long as he could remember. The same theory applied to people. He made friends with the loners, the weird kids, the ones with wide eyes and nowhere to go. He was a bleeding heart, so sue him. However, he’d never expected Steve Harrington to trigger his urge to protect and befriend. That really hit Eddie out of left field. 

Never in Eddie’s wildest dreams did he imagine he and Steve would be sitting across from each other at his small dining table, Steve’s knee pressed on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. The jock’s still hands held small bits of twigs in place as Eddie worked around him with his hot glue gun. The guy had seemed so lost, back in the woods, so unlike how Eddie remembered him. He knew about D&D for Christ’s sake. Eddie wondered if he’d woken up in an alternate universe because it seemed like Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. 

He asked Eddie about his goddamn log cabin, tavern. Then he’d pushed deeper. ‘Why do you need a bar in a game about dragons’? To which Eddie explained, of course, you do more than just fight dragons, which appeared to be news to Steve. Besides his friends, no one showed interest in Eddie’s ‘stupid little fantasy game’. With Steve, questions came thick and fast. Eddie loved every second of it. When he’d asked why Steve cared so much, the guy had shrugged his shoulders and muttered,

“I might be able to impress the kids.” 

Eddie decided to ask about ‘the kids’. He and Steve didn’t have much in common. Sure, the two could commiserate about high school together, but neither man was in the mood to do that. And god, Steve could talk about ‘the kids’. 

“I run a D&D club called Hellfire. If they’re starting high school this year, send ‘em my way. I’ll tuck your little ducklings under my wing. Keep the big scary jocks away from ‘em,” Eddie noted, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to take a jab at him. Steve surprised him again by snorting out a laugh.

“Make sure you do. That Jason kid’s a senior, right? Total psychopath. The kid would peg basketballs at pigeons.” 

By the time the sun set, the boys were in stitches and had a fairly decent log cabin to show for a day’s work. Eddie was surprised that the idea of Steve leaving set a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, Steve? We should do this again,” Eddie proposed, and Steve was too quick to agree. 

“I have work tomorrow morning, but how about the afternoon?” 

Eddie hadn’t expected the guy to be as keen as he felt. 

“It’s a date,” Eddie agreed, before promptly wanting to shove his head through a miniature log cabin. A date? Really, Munson? 

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. Mind out of the gutter, Munson. You were doing so well. 

“You’re weird, you know that?” Steve remarked, running his hand through his trademark hair, and yeah, Eddie should’ve expected that. 

Now Steve was going to call him a Freak, the ‘King Steve’, he’d heard about would make an appearance and Eddie would be glad he dodged a bullet by cutting his crush off at the knees before it had the chance to grow legs. 

“Weird is good,” Steve corrected, seeming aware of Eddie’s inner turmoil. 

“One thing I’ve learnt about myself since high school is that I like weird.”

Oh, no. Eddie was so gone for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. 

Read Part 2

[ravasheencc]

The Sims Daily

Functional Newspaper, Stand, & Subscription Service

•• ━━━━━ Overview━━━━━ ••

The Sims Daily mod brings back the nostalgia of Sims 3 with functional newspapers, stands, and a daily subscription service. Although paper newspapers may seem a thing of the past, this old school service is perfect for rags to riches game play since it is totally base game compatible (BGC) and works off the grid (OTG).

djfghgh

•• ━━━━━ Overview━━━━━ ••

BGC Interactions/Features:

Find odd jobs & gigs

Clip coupons/get discounts

Read daily news, affirmations & jokes

Buy current issue from stand for §2

Subscribe for daily delivery for §1/day (50% discount)

Newspaper expires after 24 hrs

Once a newspaper is outdated, its color changes to a dark yellow and your sim will want to throw it away

Works off the grid

Pack Specific Interactions:

Post missing pet alerts (EP04: Cats & Dogs)

Read festival info (EP03: City Living and/or EP10: Snowy Escape) 

Check street/venue policies (EP09: Eco Living)

Debug Interactions (Shift + Click):

Give influence points (EP06: Get Famous)

Enact street/venue policy (EP09: Eco Living)

Repeal policies (EP09: Eco Living)

The Sims Daily Subscription:

You can buy the current Sims Daily issue for §2 from a newspaper stand

You can subscribe or unsubscribe for a Sims Daily subscription through the newsstand or your mailbox if you have an active an subscription

The Sims Daily subscription costs 1/day

If multiple sims in your household have a subscription, you will only get 1 issue/day and will only be charged once

Daily issues are delivered around your mailbox daily at ~9 AM

If you have more than 5 outdated Sims Daily newspapers on your lot, you will no longer receive new issues until you dispose of the old ones

Once your sim subscribes to The Sims Daily, you will get a notification and your sim will have a visible trait 

•• ━━━━━ Download ━━━━━ ••

Out now for patrons, public Dec. 17! Download on my website ravasheen.com 💗

Download here!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Itcha gurl, back at it again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The doctor checks the chart then glances at the machine with your father’s vitals. Today, you’re father’s awake. He has been for a few days but today he’s alert. You know because he told you the jello was disgusting. Those are the first and only words he’s said to you in more than two weeks.

“You’re very lucky to have a daughter who knows what she’s doing,” Dr. Shearer remarks.

Your father grumbles, scowling as he doesn’t offer much else to the doctor.

“You must be happy to have her around,” Shearer continues, “it is time to start considering your discharge. You’re stable, breathing on your own again, your heartbeat is within a normal range.” You watch your father as he stares past the doctor. It’s as if he refuses to acknowledge that this is real. “You’ll have a few new meds to add to your day but with normal check-ups I think we can be optimistic.”

A grunt. You fold your hands and stand up, “thank you, doctor. Erm, could someone explain the new medicines to me?”

“Yes, of course. That’ll be in the discharge paperwork but I’ll have a Nurse Practitioner come to discuss with both of you,” he assures, “and some resources on quitting. The cigarettes can’t continue.”

“I’ll smoke if I goddamn want,” your dad snarls, breaking his shield of indifference.

The doctor gives him a sharp look but doesn’t argue, “I’m only here to diagnose and give me treatment suggestions. But you keep smoking, sir, and next time, you won’t make it to the hospital.”

“Good,” your dad sneers defiantly.

The doctor nods and his mouth seals grimly. He turns back to you, “let us know if you need anything else. We have some support groups and resources, I’ll make sure that info is also sent off with you.”

“Thanks so much, Doctor,” you squeeze your hands tighter. You want to apologise for your father but you know he’ll only get worse if you do.

“It’s alright,” Shearer says as if reading your mind, “these things are stressful. For everyone. Couple more days and he’ll be free to go.”

You try to smile but your cheeks can only tremble. The doctor leaves you with your father and you peek over at him. He grimaces at the ceiling.

“That’s good news, dad,” you say as you near the foot of his bed.

“Is it? You shoulda left me to die,” he barks.

You flinch, not once, twice. A chirp in your pocket further jars you as it shrilly erupts in the buzzing silence. You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and clutch your flip phone as it bings even louder. The little digital display shows the agency’s number.

“Sorry,” you apologise and flip it open, turning away to scurry out and answer, “hello?”

You hold your breath. Why are they calling? You didn’t have a job today and you only really get emails regarding clients. It must be very serious.

“It’s Clara,” your boss begins in her terse way. “Have you seen my email?”

She sighs, “you should be checking daily. Got a job today. You want it?”

You blink. This is the first time you’ve been asked to come in for an extra shift. You could use the money desperately. When your dad is discharged, he’ll be sent off with another invoice.

“Yes,” you accept without hesitation, “I’ll take it.”

“Great. Check your email. Details are there,” she sniffs.

“Alright, tha-nks,” your voice cracks as she hangs up in the middle of your last word. She must be busy, surely more busy than you, the lowest rung on the ladder she has to keep from falling over.

You close the phone and put it back in your pocket. You shuffle back into the room and find your father with his eyes closed. The machine continues to beep in time with his pulse.

“I gotta work,” you say, “that was my boss–”

“Then leave me alone,” he snaps without opening his eyes, “can’t you see I’m tryna sleep?”

“Sorry, I–”

“Go and don’t come back,” he growls, “I don’t need you crowding this shit hole.”

“Um, dad, I–”

He coughs and hacks and waves you off, swallowing thickly, “I said go.”

You dip your head down. You can’t imagine being in his position. Stuck in a hospital bed on the other side of near-death. You might not be very nice yourself.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I don’t care,” he turns his head and wiggles his shoulders as he tries to get comfortable.

You swallow down the hurt. You didn’t expect him to thank you for what you did. Not for anything. That’s just what you do for someone you love. Yet, you hoped he might have woken up a little bit nicer than before.

“Love you, Dad,” you murmur.

He grumbles. That’s all you get. You suck in a breath and hold it in, trying to keep from crumbling long enough to get out of that room.

🧹

At first, you’re not certain the information in the email is correct. You’re to return to Mr. Laufeyson’s house for the second time that week, but it’s a Friday night. In your days at the hospital, the calendar lines skewed between the alarms you kept in your phone for sanity. The return to reality is just as disjointing as the descent away from it.

You go home and change into your typical cleaning attire. All black. Plain. Clothes meant for getting dirty. Not that any of your wardrobe is particularly spectacular.

You grab your kit and your water bottle and rush out to catch the bus. You’re not used to being on transit near-dark. The prospect of getting home comes to mind as you cling to a pole amidst the crowded vehicle. It makes you nervous but you’re certain it will be okay. Mr. Laufeyson lives in a nice neighbourhood.

You get off the bus and bring your phone out. As you approach the house, it is lively with bodies milling in and out. You let yourself through the gate and peer over at the two cube vans near the front entrance. A white jacket, pristine uniforms, you can only assume they are some sort of catering company. The type you’ve seen on TV in those reality shows with women drinking wine.

You watch them for a moment. They are orderly and determined. What’s more, they work together in perfect harmony, words passing quietly and easily, trays moving smoothly between hands and set onto carts. It’s a shining contrast to your dim and lonely work.

You make yourself turn away and continue around the back of the house. You stop short of the rear corner and a gasp bubbles up. You watch a hummingbird buzzing over the bed of flowers. It’s so small and green and cute. You wince as it flits up towards the window, your cheeks bulbing to the smile as your gaze follows it. 

In a moment, it wings away, shyly retreating from your admiration. Your eyes fall to the window as you sense a shift on the other side. Just between the edges of the half-drawn drapes you meet a pair of green eyes over a long and cynical nose. Your smile dissolves as you recognise Mr. Laufeyson and his stony observation. You touch your fingertips to your mouth in self-reproach and tuck your chin down, turning back onto the path.

You go to the back door but it’s already unlocked. You let the handle go and linger outside. You noticed the email is shorter than usual. This isn’t your typical rote with Mr. Laufeyson.

‘Cleaner to be at standby for guests and cook…’

You glance down the paragraph. You’re to stay until after the ‘event’ so that you may tidy up. Your curiosity sparks but quickly fizzles. It’s best not to be too concerned. Just focus on what you need to do.

You let yourself in but forego the shoe covers and gloves as specified in the email. You hang your hoodie in the closet along with your kit. As you hook the strap of your water bottle over your head, a glimmer passes down the end of the hall and the lighting shifts. You look up as Mr. Laufeyson approaches.

He always dresses finely but he looks particularly put together. His hair is tidy and neat and he wears a velvet jacket in a deep shade of violet over a black collared shirt and matching trousers. His tie is narrow and blends into the fabric of his shirt. He keeps his hands behind him as he holds his chin up.

“I trust you understand your assignment,” he prompts as he stops a foot away, cornering you in the back hallway.

You nod. He tilts his head but his veneer does not break.

“Not that,” he points to the water bottle, “you may ask one of the cook’s assistants for a glass should you require it, but be rid of that ugly thing.”

“Oh–” you gulp back your voice and bow your head again. 

You untangle the trap from your torso and open the closet, tucking it away with your sweater and bag. You shut the door and find him closer than before, his hand on the door frame as he looms over you. His other wanders down the trim of his jacket.

“You are to keep yourself unseen. You tend to messes and that’s it. The rules remain. Are we understood?” He asks.

You look at him and nod. He sighs and stands straight, a deep breath rising in his chest. 

“You may answer aloud so I know we are clear,” he says.

“I understand, Mr. Laufeyson,” you eke out.

“Mmm,” his gaze lingers on you in unreadable consideration. Dressed in plain cotton, you feel wholly insignificant before him. “Go on, you will keep your vigil in the kitchen. They would require most of your assistance.” He backs away and buttons the front of his jacket, “you will not disturb my guests. Not a look, not a word.”

You know your turn to talk is over. You merely nod and he seems pleased by your deference. Not openly, he shows a hint of a smile nor does he praise you. But he is not unhappy and you know that is a feat.

🧹

The cook’s name is Corissa. She has spiraled red hair and pretty gold-green eyes. As you enter, she introduces herself and asks your name.

“I’m just here to clean,” you explain. “So if you need me–”

“Oh, hon, no need ta be shy,” she says in her wolfish voice, “we’re all in this togetha.”

You smile and stand against the wall, waiting to be told what to do next. She gives you a lingering glance but doesn’t comment. You see a question woven in her brow. She begins her work, directing her assistants at saucepan and cutting board alike, all while falling into a raucous rapport.

“Theo say ‘ma, did ya have ta tell that story?’” She cackles midway through a tale you lost track of, her hands moving expertly at her work, “and I say, ‘the gal deserves ta know, ‘specially if ya mean to burden her’.”

You bite into your lower lip. It’s like there’s an invisible wall in front of you. It’s been there your whole life. That one that separates you from others. You’re always on the outside watching. Just like in the schoolyard when the girls wouldn’t let you play with them. Or when your dad has his buddies over and told you to ‘piss off to your room’.

The first course is served on sleek black trays. As you watch the servers carry them out, Corissa calls your name. She makes you lurch in surprise as you’d be convinced you blend right into the plaster.

“Come have a taste,” she insists, “this one’s a bit mussed up.”

“Um, er, it’s okay, I’m not hungry–”

“Bah, come on, have some. I hate ta toss it in the bin.”

You don’t want to argue. That would be rude. So you come forward and accept the crumbly pastry with an ugly tear in the top, the filling bulging out.

“Lobster croquette,” she explains, “you’re not allergic, are ya?”

You shake your head and thank her as you back up to the wall again. You cup your hand under the misshapen ball as you bite into it. You could hum at the taste. It’s delicious and rich and savoury. You’ve never had anything like it. You’ve never even tasted lobster before.

“You like it?” She asks as you swallow your mouthful. You nod. “Quiet one, you.” She points at you.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You are quiet. You finish the croquette and go to dust the crumbs off your hand over the bin. You slide your foot off the pedal and let the lid drop. You take the cloth from your waistband and near the counter, going to work at tidying up the remnants of her work.

“Eh, look at you, busy little bee,” she chuckles, “I was gettin’ ta tha.”

“My job,” you insist.

“Maid,” a snap of the fingers draws your head up as Corissa sprinkles seasoning into a new pan.

Mr. Laufeyson offers only a curled finger. Your eyes round and cross to him, tucking the cloth into your pants again. He’s already striding away as you get to the door. You trail him, uncertain at what he needs. 

He leads you to the dining room, the garble of voices and clinking of glasses preceding your arrival. He enters ahead of you and claims the seat at the head of the table. The serves pass you with empty trays and you gape around in confusion.

“Oh my, look at me,” a woman giggles as she uses a cloth napkin to pat along her collarbone. Thin straps cling to her delicate shoulders as her skin glistens beneath the golden chain strung around her throat, “making a scene already.”

You see the wine glass on its side and hear the contents dripping onto the floor. You put your head down and hurry over. The dinner guests laugh and are quickly onto their next topic, about some coast they plan to vacation at once the summer comes. You try not to eavesdrop as you sop up the puddle of wine on the table and get down to wipe clean the floor.

As you do, you feel a tickle on the back of your neck. You don’t let it stop you. It must be an accident. You’re so cramped between the woman’s seat and the next that you must be in the way. The fingertips remain and brush more firmly as you hear a low, gritty exhale. 

You ball up the damped cloth and stand, daring a glance at the man as he draws his hand back into his lap. His broad shoulders make the back of the tall chair seem small and his blonde hair is twisted into a low tight bun. He guffaws loudly at the table, seemingly unfazed by his own wandering touch. It must’ve been an accident.

You back up and peer towards the head of the table. Laufeyson’s eyes are slits as he stares in your direction. Surely, he’s not watching you. You’re supposed to be unseen. Get out of there.

You retreat quickly, the din thundering louder and louder at your back, rumbling behind you into the hall. You wring the cloth, now stained and stinking of wine. You hope you didn’t upset Mr. Laufeyson, you only did as you were told.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Rush

pairing: Dave York x f!Reader

No use of Y/N. No physical description of reader other than that she has hair long enough for Dave to grab... (mood board is for aesthetic purposes only)

Word Count: 5.7k

summary: You're a part-time nanny for the beautiful York family. The money is good, the job is easy, and on days when Mr. York works from home, well, those are more than enough incentive to keep you coming back. (Literally this is just PWP and I'm sorry, not sorry).

notes: the Dave York brain rot is so real y'all. I'm sorry, I know I owe you updates on other stories still! Also, this is my first moodboard EVER. How'd I do? lol.

warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. PWP (this is basically just smut y'all). Infidelity (is it even Dave York if he's not cheating on his wife?). Implied age gap I guess? (Reader is mentioned to be in college but no actual age is specified. Dave is in his 40's). Dom!Dave York. Degradation kink. Cockwarming. Oral sex (f and m receiving). Protected p in v sex. Inappropriate behaviour during a Zoom call (Dave York is a menace and I will not apologize for that). One ass slap (as far as Dave goes I'd say this fic is a tame one).

My masterlist

A03 link

It’s like you have developed a Pavlovian response to even seeing his name pop up on your screen with the notification alert. You practically start drooling before you even open it to see what he’s said or sent you, you just can’t help yourself. There’s a heat that runs through your veins and you feel it down to your toes, the rush that comes over you over the simple four words displayed across your screen.

Incoming Message: Mr. York

You tap the message to open it and can’t even pretend to ignore the heat that floods your abdomen when you click again and open the attachment inside. The attachment your employer just sent you.

You bite your lower lip as your gaze quickly darts around the room, ensuring nobody is around to see your reaction. The girls of course are with you but they’re planted directly in front of the television, currently mesmerized by Elsa, for the third time this week, not that you’re counting, while you sit dutifully behind them on the sofa. Mrs. York is out shopping or getting her hair done or running errands or whatever it is she does for most of the afternoon that requires you to be here to watch the children. You don’t mind. The money is good, the job is easy, and on days when Mr. York works from home, well, those are more than enough incentive to keep you coming back.

You’re more than a babysitter, more like a nanny, however not full time. You don’t live there, just spend a few hours there each weekday and you’ll watch the girls on occasional evenings or weekends when needed. You pick the girls up from school each day, bring them home and sometimes one or both of their parents are home but busy, or sometimes neither of them are there. You do things like the girls' laundry and prepare their dinner as well as their school lunches for the next day and some light cleaning tasks like the girls' rooms or cleaning the kitchen after you’ve made their meals. It was a good gig that worked well around your current class schedule and the money was much better than what most of your friends made to keep themselves afloat, working in restaurants or retail jobs.Not to mention the added benefit of your job.

Today, lucky for you, is a work from home day for Dave. Mr. York. And the message he sends you leaves no room for interpretation, you know exactly what he wants. You stare at the picture a moment longer, the dark navy blue of his dress slacks with the very obvious outline of his hard-on straining against the fabric. His hand sits on top of his thigh right next to the bulge under his pants and the gold band around his finger on prominent display does absolutely nothing to dissuade you as you push yourself up from the sofa.

“Girls I have some of your laundry to finish up, just keep watching your movie ok and I’ll be back in a little bit” you tell them sweetly and Molly casually acknowledges you with a wave of her hand, Alice not bothered enough to look up from the screen.

Honestly, thank god for Frozen.

You smooth down your skirt as you walk down the stairs to the finished basement and turn the corner to the only firmly closed door in the house. Mr. York's home office. It was off limits to everyone. Everyone except you, when you were invited of course, and the text he just sent you might as well be an embossed formal invitation printed on expensive cardstock.

You don’t bother knocking. You can hear his low voice through the door. It’s muffled and you can’t make out what he’s saying but you know he’s speaking and must be on a call.

A boring conference call.

Your favourite.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips as you carefully push the door open, ensuring to be quiet and gently push it shut behind you. You don’t bother locking it, not anymore. You had once, the first time, and Dave ensured you that it wasn’t necessary. The girls knew this room was off limits because “Daddy was working” and Carol, if she did bother to come down here at all, would be sure to knock first to not interrupt Dave while he was working. You think he secretly likes the thrill of it, doing absolutely depraved things with you in his family’s home behind an unlocked door, knowing that his wife could walk in whenever she wanted. Of course it’s not something he would ever want his children to see, but it's been engrained well enough in their heads by now not to come down here that he knows he doesn’t need to worry about it.

You turn around from the door after closing it and see him casually leaning back in his office chair, elbow resting on the arm of it while he rests his face on his hand, a bored expression on his handsome features. His government-provided laptop sits open on his desk and you hear a mixture of voices flooding through the speakers though you don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying. You stand near the door still in the middle of the room and begin to unbutton your blouse, ignoring the little flutter in your tummy when you notice Dave sits up a little straighter in his chair. It’s a routine by now. You know what he wants without either of you needing to speak a word. Of course it’s not always the same when you step into this room, but when Dave is on a conference call, this is what you do.

All buttons undone you shrug out of your top and waste no time in undoing your bra next, letting the straps slide off your shoulders as you toss it carelessly to the floor. Next you pull down the zipper to your skirt and tug it down your legs along with your panties, not bothering to waste any time.

Dave likes efficiency. He also likes you completely naked, always, regardless of his level of dress or what the two of you might be doing. Even if he wants you under his desk sucking his cock where he can’t really even see your body, you will be naked while you do it and he’ll likely be fully clothed with just his belt open and zipper pulled down. Those were Dave’s rules. And you were nothing with him if not obedient.

You smile coyly at him as you make your way towards his desk and he pushes his chair back slightly further as he mumbles some confirmation over the speakerphone to his underlings. You know you don’t need to worry about the laptop or the Zoom call he’s currently in, Dave had a little black security sticker placed over every camera lens on all the larger electronics in the house, always taking his privacy seriously. Even the girls' tablets had the camera lenses blacked out.

He puts a single finger to his lips as you walk over to him, signaling to you that you need to be quiet, be his good girl, but of course you already know this. You nod your head slightly as you reach him, hands instinctively running over from the top of his chest up his broad shoulders as you swing one of your legs over him until you're straddled on his lap. Your hands slide back down his front, all the way down until you reach his waist and quietly unfasten his belt, popping the button open on his slacks and sliding his zipper down. Dave helps you by slightly lifting his hips, enough that you can shove down the material of his pants and boxers just enough to set his waiting cock free. You love that even when he’s working from home he is always dressed sharply in a business suit. Today his jacket is off, hung around the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his forearms but aside from that, everything, including his tie, is perfectly in place.

Dave York, ever the professional, as his personal employee gets situated to sit on his cock during a conference call.

Once he’s on full glorious display for you you look up at him, waiting on his confirmation. That slight nod of his head he gives you that says ‘go on sweet girl, sit on my cock’. Deep brown eyes stare back at you and you wait, unmoving, until he lifts his hand and presses two fingers to your lips. You dutifully open your mouth, inviting them in and suck, wetting them with your tongue and saliva for a few long seconds until he’s satisfied and pulls them away. He immediately brings those same fingers down between your legs and slowly drags them through your folds, a smirk crossing his lips when he feels how wet you are already, how you don’t even need his fingers to be ready to take him. The truth is you were uncomfortably wet before he even sent you that text. The anticipation, the waiting, the wondering if today’s a day when he summons for you, it was enough to have you already worked up.

Despite you being ready he takes a few seconds to leisurely circle your clit with his thick fingers and you have to bite your lip to suppress the moan that wants to come out. You know you need to be quiet, it’s another one of his rules. If he wasn’t on an active call you are allowed to make some noise, he likes it even, but just not loud enough that your voice carries upstairs. His hand not currently working between your legs slides past you to the computer at his desk and you hear the tap of a button and you know he’s hit ‘mute’ on his call.

“Going to be a good girl for me, nice and quiet, right?” He asks and you nod your head.

“Yes” you whimper, sounding wrecked already despite that he’s barely begun.

“That’s good. I unfortunately need to be an active participant in this godforsaken budget meeting and will need to unmute from time to time and god help you if you start moaning like some bitch in heat and somebody hears you, I’ll turn on my camera and let them watch what a slut you are for my cock, do you understand?”

“Yes sir” you nod your head enthusiastically. “I’ll be good”

God the way he speaks to you when you’re together like this, maybe you should be concerned with how hot it gets you but you’re not. You know of course it's just talk, it's a persona he puts on when you’re intimate together and he gathered very quickly early on how much you enjoyed it so these are the roles you play when you are together. Truthfully Dave is respectful towards you, always has been, before and after the first time you’d hooked up. You chalk it up to him needing a different kind of release than he can get with his wife, the mother of his children. He needs a break from reality. From white-picket fences and playdates and fortunately for you, that’s where you came in. Call it ‘Daddy Issues’, call it whatever you want, but when Dave got a little mean with you or called you names or got rough with you, well, you’re honestly worried you’ll never again feel the sexual satisfaction that you get from this man. Nobody else could possibly measure up.

“I know you will baby” he smirks at you. “Now come on, you know what I want” he says and then taps a button on the keyboard again as he clears his throat and begins speaking to his colleagues again.

It should be scientifically studied how Dave droning on about quarterly budgets and fiscal year-ends can get your pussy absolutely dripping for him.

You do know what he wants and when his hand leaves the apex of your thighs you reach into the desk drawer beside you and pluck a foil packet out of the small wooden box he keeps nestled inside his desk (using protection is another one of Dave's rules so there's always a stash nearby in his office). Once you’ve torn it open and carefully rolled the condom down his thick shaft you lift yourself up just enough to hover over it before you sink down and are fully seated in his lap, buried to the hilt. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and you lean your head down to rest on his shoulder but otherwise you don’t move. Dave doesn’t want to fuck you. At least, not right now. He wants you to be his good girl and keep his cock warm for him until his call is over and then he’ll decide what he wants to do with you. You hope the call isn’t a long one but sometimes in the past you haven’t been so lucky. Sometimes you sit here for five minutes, sometimes for thirty. Either way, you’ll be good while you do it and not move, otherwise Dave will become upset and punish you. And unfortunately punishment for you means he gets to come and you don’t, so you’re very careful now not to be punished. That lesson has been learned.

The meeting continues and after a few minutes Dave grows bored of his colleagues. You see it on his face and how his head falls back against the chair. Though you’ve barely been paying attention, even you know that they’ve just been talking in circles for the last five minutes.

“All right enough, let’s move on I don’t have all day” Dave suddenly barks at his computer and you hear several “yes sir”’s and “sorry sir”’s and flipping of papers as they switch topics to the next article on their agenda. Dave is still annoyed and bored and you know this because he snakes an arm between your bodies and his fingers are suddenly between your legs again where the two of you are joined. You lift your head from his shoulder again and pull back just enough so you can look him in the eyes as his fingers slowly begin to press at your clit. You pull your bottom lip through your teeth and your brow furrows slightly as he gently teases you and this… this is new. He doesn’t normally play with you when you’re meant to just be sitting still for him and honestly it terrifies you a little bit, knowing you can’t make a sound.

He’s still off mute as he occasionally responds to his colleagues and seemingly ignores the desperate plea your eyes are giving him as he rubs torturously slow circles around your little bundle of nerves. God he’s going to make you cum and you’re not allowed to utter a sound. A sly grin pulls at his lips and you know he’s enjoying this. Watching you squirm in his lap, desperate to please him as you focus every ounce of your concentration on not moaning out loud but Dave knows your body so well by now, like he’s fine tuning an instrument he’s had for years. You bury your face in his neck as your hands cling around the back of his head and the hand not between your legs comes up behind you, rubbing comforting circles across the span of your lower back. If it weren’t for the fingers at your clit and the cock buried inside you you’d feel like a small child being soothed and you might as well be because despite your best efforts, tears well at the corners of your eyes that you know Dave can feel drop hot against his skin. He’s making you feel so fucking good, but not good enough that it’ll get you to come and he knows that. He’s left you teetering on that edge as he plays with your clit with practiced precision and you need to come so badly you’re literally reduced to tears, the tight coil in your abdomen desperate to snap but can’t quite get there. He’s toying with you, and he loves it.

Your mouth mimes a desperate ‘please’ when you pull back again to look him in the eyes, hoping he’ll take pity on you. You must look a mess, tear-stained cheeks and he has to be able to feel the way your thighs are literally trembling. The smug grin hasn’t left his lips and for a moment you think he’s going to continue to torture you, but to your elated surprise he leans a bit forward to speak into his computer.

“All right everyone I think we’ve accomplished enough for one day, let’s pick this up on Monday, yeah? Have a good weekend everyone”

He doesn’t bother to wait for any of his colleagues to reply, just slams his laptop shut and shoves it aside with a sweep of his arm and you yelp out in surprise when he suddenly hoists you up and off of his cock, placing you down on your back on his desk. You whimper at the loss of him inside you but don’t have another second to complain before he shoves his chair back as he gets out of it and kneels to the ground in front of you.

“Oh fuck” you whimper, lifting your head up as far as you’re able to and reaching a hand out to place on his head.

“You were such a good girl for me, weren’t you baby?” he grins up at you from between your spread legs and you desperately nod your head in agreement. Honestly, you were proud of yourself.

“Good girls get rewarded, isn’t that right sweetheart?” he asks and you nod again.

Dave pauses for a moment and then his gaze lifts upwards to the ceiling. “Frozen?” he asks, knowing that his children are essentially mindless drones when their favourite movie is playing on tv and won’t come looking for you.

“Yes” you breathe out, your voice shaking. God, you need him so badly.

“Good” he grins again. “Want to hear you baby” is all he says before he dives in head first, literally, his mouth and tongue going straight to your core.

He begins greedily lapping at you, tongue pushing through your folds before he brings it up a little higher and swirls the muscle around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips cant off the desk without your permission and you hear him chuckle before he places a strong arm across your waist.

“Easy baby, let me take care of you”

And take care of you he does. He takes his free hand and inserts one thick finger inside your wet heat, beginning a steady pace of fucking you with his single digit before his mouth closes around you again, sucking your clit into his mouth and a loud moan followed by a string of curses leaves your lips, your hands clutching into the short stands of hair at his head. Your orgasm floods over you within seconds, already being so close from the earlier teasing and Dave moans into your cunt when he feels your walls pulsing around his finger.

“Fuck,” he groans into you, apparently pleased with you and himself. His finger continues working inside of you, at a slower pace thankfully and his arm around your waist leaves you and disappears behind the desk where you can’t see it but you know where that hand is going and you let out a little whimper, causing Dave to chuckle against you.

“What is it sweetheart? Tell me”

“Want your cock” you whine. “Please” you add, because Dave likes it when you have manners.

He presses a single kiss to your oversensitive centre before he finally pulls back and gets up from the floor, settling back into his chair and looking at you expectantly.

“Well go on then” he nods towards his aching length that now rests against his clothed belly, the condom long discarded. You assume he took it off not long after he pulled you from his lap so he could jerk himself off with his free hand while he ate you out.

You quickly scramble off of the desk and onto your knees, greedily taking him into your hand and mouth, not needing to be asked twice. Your hand wraps around the base while your mouth envelops the rest of him, taking him as far down your throat as your gag reflex allows.

“Eager today” Dave chuckles from above you before a small groan escapes his lips when your tongue comes up to press into his already leaking slit.

“Fuck, the mouth on you…” he tuts, hand coming around to gather your hair so he can hold it back from your face and get a better view of how you take him down your throat. You continue to suck and lick and swallow him down, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth to ensure you reach all of him and he groans, head falling back against the headrest of his chair. The hand not holding your hair back presses down on the top of your head, forcing you further down his cock. He likes to hear you choke and gag on him, likes to see the spit and saliva and drool run down your chin and hear those debauched noises that leave your throat when you take him so deeply. Tears pick at the corners of your eyelids as the head of his cock knocks against the back of your throat and he forcefully pulls your head back, tilting it so your gaze finds his and you see the satisfaction stretch across his lips as he watches the fat tears hit your cheeks.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl” he practically growls at you before yanking you off of him. You gasp for breath once he’s pulled you from his throbbing member, your hands coming up to rest on his knees to steady yourself as you catch your breath. You know you had him close to that edge so the fact that he’s pulled you off of him has you instantly flooded with arousal again, knowing that today he wants to finish inside of you rather than in your mouth.

“C’mere” he grunts, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you up to your feet as he also stands from his chair. The moment you're both up he pulls you forward and his lips crash against yours, shoving his tongue inside of your mouth to hungrily taste you. You can’t help the little whimper that escapes you when you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips curl into a smile at that.

He pulls back after a few seconds and begins to kiss and nip along your jaw and upwards until his lips and breath are hot against your ear.

“Turn around for me sweetheart, bend over”

You follow his request immediately, turning in his arms and bending over the desk until your top half is fully resting on the smooth, hard cherry wood surface and your feet are planted firmly on the ground. Dave’s dark brown leather shoe comes between both of your feet and he hastily kicks them further apart, spreading your legs wide for him and your breath catches in your throat for a second before you let out a little giggle at how eager he is to have you. His hands go to your hips and he angles you just right so when he steps forward his cock slides right between your folds and you let out a low moan at the friction it causes. He lets you feel him bare for a few more passes through your folds as his right hand leaves your hip to begin rustling around in the top desk drawer again. You have to bite back the words that are on your tongue, ‘don’t use one, just take me’ because you figure if he wanted to fuck you raw he would have by now. Dave is always careful and for the most part, always in control of himself but sometimes you wish he’d just let go and be reckless with you. It’s not really even that reckless, you argue with yourself. You’re on birth control and Dave knows this because he’s seen the little square patch you wear on your hip for three weeks of the month. He’d asked what it was as his fingers delicately traced the shape and you’d told him. A simple “hmm” was all you got from in response. And aside from that, Dave was the only person you were currently sexually active with and you’re pretty sure Dave knew that as well. There was so much Dave seemed to know about you. It would probably be almost unsettling if you really stopped to think about it so you just didn’t. You were happy to stay in your little bubble of blissed ignorance, so long as it meant Dave would continue to show you the attention you craved from him.

You turn your head back just in time to see him ripping the package with his teeth and then his hips pull back from you just enough so that he can roll the condom on before he’s back, pressing forward and teasing at your entrance again.

“Ready baby?” he asks.

“Mmm hmm” you nod weakly, desperate to feel him inside you finally. “Please”

With that final uttered syllable Dave thrusts forward, entering you in one swift motion and burying himself to the hilt with a single rough snap of his hips and all the breath gets knocked out of your lungs as your upper body is shoved slightly further up the desk. He stills for a moment once he’s fully seated inside you and lets you adjust to him, his left hand rubbing soothingly back and forth on your hip.

“That’s it, take my cock so good sweetheart, fuck” he groans, tossing his head back and now you’re not sure if he’s stopped moving for your sake or for his own. “God damn, love this tight fucking pussy” he practically growls before he rolls his hips back before snapping forward again. He sets a hard, rough pace from there, stealing the breath from your lungs with each snap of his hips and the guttural noises that leave your throat each time he hits that spot deep inside of you sound downright sinful as they bounce off the four walls of the small office.

Not quite as sinful, however, as the smack that reverberates in the room when Dave’s hand lands a sharp blow to your right ass cheek as he continues to pound into you from behind.

“Ah!” you cry out, sounding positively wrecked, because you are. “Fuck, oh my god, ohmygod”. You’re reduced to a whimpering, whining mess within minutes as Dave bucks into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dig so deeply into your hips you know for fact they’ll leave bruises. You manage to turn your head slightly back to look at him, and what a glorious sight he is. Neck veins prominently on display as he tilts his head slightly back but still manages to keep his hard gaze on you. His teeth are bared and there’s beads of sweat at his forehead from his exertion and it’s enough to send you catapulting over that edge. You come long and hard with a wrecked sob leaving your throat as your walls pulse and contract around him.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” you cry out, hands stretched above your head to hold onto the edge of the desk for dear life as your orgasm crashes over you.

“Shit baby… shit” Dave curses and you know your orgasm nearly brought his own on as well. Another low growl escape his lips before he’s hauling you up by your arms. “C’mere”

Your limbs might as well be made of Jello after how hard you just came so fortunately for Dave you’re very pliant in his arms as he all but manhandles you around. He pulls out of you and turns you around before he hauls you up and off the desk. He backs up just enough to sit back down in his chair and pulls you down on top of him, situating you just right so you’re sat right back on his cock the same way you were earlier and you cry out again once he has you speared on his dick.

“Ride me baby, bounce up and down on this dick, come on” he urges you on, sounding wrecked himself and it’s enough to give you the gust of energy you need to comply. Your hands go to his shoulders to hold on and his go to your hips to help you raise them just slightly before he slams you back down into his lap and then repeats the motion, over and over.

“That’s it, oh fuck” he seethes through gritted teeth. “Such a good girl for me, oh ride that cock baby come on” he encourages and your eyes roll back in your head at how deep he hits inside you. You think you actually feel a third orgasm coming on and Dave must sense it in you too because the next thing you know his thumb is at your clit, rubbing frantic circles as he begs and pleads with you to give him ‘just one more’. And you do just that. With a cry of his name leaving your lips you come a third time, hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as he fucks you through it and then his arms wrap tight around your lower back and he presses you firmer into his lap as he pushes a few final deep thrusts into you until he finally stills, a shuddering moan released from the back of his throat as he spills inside the condom.

You stay just like that for long moments afterwards. Dave’s arms wrapped tightly around you and yours around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder and his nuzzling into the side of your face. Dave isn’t exactly a cuddler. At least not with you or in your experience with him yet. Typically when your done he slides out of you and likes to get the condom off and get himself cleaned up immediately, dismissing you to get back to whatever you were doing but today he seems content to just hold you and you’ll greedily take every second of it until he regretfully pulls away from you like you know he has to.

You're so blissed out in your post-orgasmic state that you almost don’t even hear it when he murmurs the words against your ear.

“Come away with me”

Confusion laces your tone as you push back from him just enough to search his eyes for answers “What?”

“I want you to come away with me” he repeats, clearer this time but you still don’t understand exactly what he means. He sighs and raises a hand to gently push your hair back behind your ear before his hand lands softly on your cheek. “For a weekend. Let’s get away. I’ll say I have a work trip or something and we can just… be together. No interruptions, no… fucking Olaf the snowman singing in the background while I’m trying to fuck your brains out” he adds teasingly and you can’t help the full belly laugh that escapes you.

“Do you mean it?” You ask after a moment. You want to believe it. A whole weekend with Dave sounds like fucking heaven, but you don’t want to get your hopes up if he’s just talking madness because he just blew his load and isn’t thinking straight.

Dave shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while” he remarks casually, thumb softly stroking back and forth at your cheek. “What do you say?”

“I say yes, of course!” You practically squeal, surging forward and stealing a kiss from his waiting lips. You kiss for long moments. It’s not a frenzied kiss like you usually share but it’s still heated and before long you’re forced to pull away when Dave’s cock twitches from where it’s still buried inside of you. You unfortunately both know you don’t have time for another round and so you regretfully pull apart, Dave gently lifting your hips to pull you off of him. He takes the condom off, tying it off at the end and tossing it into the small trash can under his desk before he carefully stuffs himself back into his underwear and rights his clothes. You gather your own clothes and quickly dress until you’re presentable again and then wander back over to where Dave has sat back down in his chair, undoubtedly going back to work for a couple more hours.

“Thank you” you whisper before you lean down and plant a kiss to his waiting lips.

“I’ll text you. About our… plans” he says and you smile warmly at him.

“Looking forward to it” you remark as you slip out of his office and back upstairs to check on the girls.

True to his word Dave texts you a week or so later, giving you very vague details on your trip. It’s just dates he’s told you to blackout, a friday through sunday at the end of the month and that he’ll pick you up at your place Friday at 3pm. No other details, not where you’re going, what you need to bring or pack or what type of clothing you’ll need. You assume you won’t be going far, a local hotel is most likely, but you’d at least like to know if you’ll be going anywhere nice for dinner, what kind of wardrobe you need to bring.

“What should I bring?” You settle on asking him when you reply to his text and a stupid grin forms at your lips from his simple reply.

“Just a toothbrush baby, won’t be needing anything else for what I’ve got planned for us 😈”

taglist: @janaispunk @nerdieforpedro @anotherpedrolover @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @axshadows @suzdin @yorksgirl @lincolndjarin @pedroshotwifey

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the page dividers!

I might turn this into a little series? But it would literally just be PWP lol. Not much storyline. Just for when I need to get the Dave York brain rot out lol. So if you wanna see more of these two (or see their little getaway) just lmk!

[frikatilhi]

What's a 30 year old man doing posing half naked with a 21 year old. Weird ass creepy behaviour.

Are you... lost?

Yes, it is truly horrendous when two consenting adults take cheeky pictures that have nothing to do with sex, alert the purity police

I have seen several people commenting on how delightful it is to see them so comfortable with each other and how Jere's company is very clearly a safe place for Ale to be tits out like that with him, and how it's beautiful and wholesome and how it actually fits perfectly in what we know of Jere and his behaviour (asking before touching, ranting about harrassment, declaring his gigs a safety place etc)

I'm not sure what your problem is, exactly, is it that she is topless, in which case get fucked, she is whole-ass adult woman who can do as she pleases, or is it that he is topless in proximity of other people, in which case you truly are lost heh

Newsflash, 30- and 21-year-olds can be friends, women and men can be friends, and friends can be topless together if they so choose, so take your misogynistic purity culture weird as fuck opinions and leave me and my bi panic alone.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Okay okay... but Spiderman making cookies giving them to SIM...

Like maybe Peter noticed the lack of Christmas decor at the tower; because of his internship. The limited number of friends Tony Stark had. And knows that Rhodey and Pepper were both off with family.

Peter knows what it feels like to be alone on Christmas.

So he makes his way to the tower. He stays out of SIMs way most of the time(as spiderman). It's like an agreement. He stays out of the way, he gets to keep up his Spiderman gig.

Tony was not expecting Jarvis to alert him that Spiderman was on the roof. Even more so of the sugar cookies with melted Hersey kisses on top.

But it was the " Hey Mr. Stark" That made Tony realize that Spiderman was the intern he has been watching. Well, isn't that just interesting.

[theweightofakiteofdreamsingold]

Picture Perfect- Jake Kiszka

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, oral sex (f receiving), hitting (very light), unprotected sex, language, MINORS DNI

A/N- Thank you to @sunandthemoontwinflames for their request. I hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy it. ☺️ Also, sorry it took so long. 😅.

✨️Bajabule ✨️

-Ken

A clap of thunder shook your apartment, followed by a bright streak of light flashing behind the glass of your windows. You pulled your blanket close to your chin, cuddling deeper into the couch cushions. You scanned the room, dimly lit with candles. The power had gone out almost twenty minutes ago, and still had yet to return. You sighed and pulled out your phone from your sweatshirt pocket.

You opened your message app and quickly found what you were looking for.

You: Want to come over?

You closed the app and set your phone face down on your knees. You peeked out the window behind you, watching the wind blow through the trees, making them bend and sway. The rain pounded heavy on the asphalt, creating a mist. It set an eerie scene straight out of a scary movie. Your phone dinged, alerting you to a new message.

Jake: I thought you said no more late night visits?

You rolled your eyes as you recalled what you had said to him the last time you were in his bed. You and Jake had known each other for a few months now. You had met him at a bar. His band had a gig, and you were there to drowned out the pain of your recent break-up. You had thought he was cute, and the way he played his guitar was hypnotizing. You found yourself wanting him to strum you like he did the strings. With the help of some liquid courage, you found him after his set. One thing led to another, and you found yourself waking up in his bed the next morning. You thought it would only be a one-time thing, but a few days after that, he was in your bed.

You had continued that pattern. Calling him when you were lonely, when you needed him to distract you from your thoughts. And vice versa. You had told him a week ago that you were tired of the 3 A.M. booty calls. That it made you feel cheap. You hadn't admitted to him, nor did you think you ever would, but you had caught feelings. He hadn't asked you over since then, and your hurt feelings had kept you from breaking the silence. But tonight, you were alone in a dark apartment. Nothing but the memories of him touching you to keep you warm.

You: I changed my mind. Come over.

Jake: Can't. Band practice.

You: Jake, I'm so lonely. I need your hands on me.

You bit your lip as you anxiously watched your phone screen, waiting for his response. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered hard and fast.

Jake: Imagine I'm there, sucking on that sweet pussy, and touch yourself.

You inhaled sharply as you leaned back on the arm of the couch, sliding your hand down your shorts. You lightly stroked your clit through your panties.

Jake: Are you doing it?

You: Yes, Jake.

Jake: Good girl. Now, get your fingers wet and fuck yourself like it's my cock.

You let out a soft moan as you brought your fingers up to your mouth. You slid them across your tongue, picturing them as Jake's. How he tasted, the way he would fuck his fingers into your mouth until they were slippery wet with your saliva.

You: Show me.

Jake: Show you what, doll?

You: Your cock. I miss it, Jakey. Send me a picture of it.

Jake: A picture, hmm?

You: Please.

You moved your wet fingers back into your shorts, pushing your panties to the side. You teased your entrance as you watched your phone. You waited like that for a few minutes until you couldn't anymore. You set your phone on the table beside you and plunged your fingers into your heat. You fucked yourself as you thought of Jake pounding into you. As your climax came and went, you curled under the blanket towards the window, watching as the rain became softer. You tried to ignore your hurt feelings as your heavy eyelids closed.

.....

You groaned as soft knocks at your door roused you from sleep. You rubbed your eyes, pleasantly surprised to see your lights back on. There were a few more knocks on your door as you stood up, stretching. Walking towards the door, it dawned on you that it was still night. You cautiously approached the door, cursing yourself for not putting a bat in the corner like your dad had suggested. You stood on your toes to peek out of the peep hole.

You gasped quietly, realizing who it was. He stood leaning on the door frame, his brow arched as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Your stomach dropped as you cleared your throat, turning the locks and opening the door.

"Jake. What are you doing?" You avoided his eyes as you scanned over him.

"Well. You said you missed my cock." He licked his lips, taking a step forward. " I figured you'd want the real thing, instead of a picture."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest as he walked forward, kicking the door closed behind him. You took a shaky breath as he snaked a hand up your back, grabbing a handful of your hair. With a quick snap of his wrist, he had your head bent back, leaving your neck exposed to him. He ghosted his lips over your sensitive skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface.

Your fingers dug into his biceps, making him groan into you. He let his tongue run a broad strip up your neck to just under your ear. You whined, closing your eyes as you relaxed into him.

"Fuck, Jake." You whispered so softly, you weren't sure you actually spoke it aloud.

He took your earlobe between his teeth, biting gently. He walked you backward towards the recliner you had in the corner of your living room. He let his hands slid up your sweatshirt, squeezing your bare breasts.

"Get this off." He mumbled while his fingers tugged and rolled your hard nipples.

You pulled the hoodie over your head, tossing it to the side. His mouth found your chest, sucking dark red marks into your soft skin. You moaned, your head swimming. You tried to focus on his shirt buttons but found it almost impossible when he was flicking his tongue against your nipple. You started to sit in the recliner, but his hands flew to your waist, keeping you upright.

"Not so fast, babydoll." He smirked as he lifted his mouth from you.

He undid his shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind him. He grabbed your waist, turning so his back was to the chair. He sank down to the floor slowly, hooking his fingers into the waist band of your shorts as he sat. Pulling them down your legs, he looked up at you through his lashes, looking almost innocent. But the sinister smirk he had painted on his lips said otherwise. He helped you out of your shorts and ran his fingers up the back of your thighs.

"I want you to do something for me." He whispered while his fingers roamed your lower half, making you hyper-aware of how close his touch was getting to your mound.

"And what is that?" You questioned curiously, wondering what filthy request was going to come from his mouth.

"I want you to straddle this chair. A leg on each arm, so you can ride my tongue." He smiled; his eyebrow arched as he slid his pointer finger through your dripping slit.

His cool finger on your warm core sent a shiver down your spine. He focused on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles on the bundle of nerves. You placed your hands on his shoulders as you closed your eyes, reeling in the bliss of his touch. As quickly as he started, he stopped. You opened your eyes to find him sucking on his finger with his eyes closed, savoring your taste. You let out a soft whimper, causing him to break from his trance. His eyes found yours as his hands slipped around you, grabbing your ass.

"You're so sweet, doll. Let me have a proper taste." He spoke as he pulled you to him.

You squealed softly as he lifted one of your legs and placed it on the arm of the recliner. You mirrored his action with your other leg as his head fell back onto the soft leather. You hovered above him, a little nervous about relaxing onto him. His arms snaked around your thighs, pulling you to his mouth with one fast squeeze.

He ran his tongue though your slick folds before finding your swollen clit, giving it a few soft flicks.

"Ride my face. Give it to me, sweetheart." He mumbled against you as he flattened his tongue.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him, only his eyes visible, staring up at you. You laced your fingers through his hair for support as you started to rock your hips over him. You leaned your head back and moaned as your clit slipped over his warm, wet tongue.

"Oh fuck, Jake. Your tongue feels so good." You pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, vibrating your core.

You bucked your hips over him faster, moaning out his name. He reached back and landed a cracking slap to your ass, making you whince and cry out. He rubbed his hand over the sting, soothing it.

You felt tingles through your body, the the metaphorical band of your impending orgasum tightening in your lower stomach as you worked over him.

"Jake. I-i'm gonna..." You breathed, suddenly unable to form a sentence.

He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you firmly down on him, and pulled your swollen bundle of nerves between his lips, sucking softly. Cries escaped you as the band snapped, radiating warmth throughout you. He continued to hold you down, lapping up your release while you rode out your orgasum. He let out a low growl as he flipped you so your back was on the seat of the chair, and your ass hung off the edge.

You looked up at him, panting and dazed, and watched as he quickly undid his belt. His lips and chin glistening from your juices.

"I need to be inside you, now." He spoke in a deep, low voice, making you let out a quiet moan.

He let his pants and underwear fall around his ankles as he brought his hand to his lips. With his eyes on yours, he ran his tongue up his palm. You let your fingers wander down your body to your still soaking wet heat, and rubbed soft circles on your clit as you watched him. He dropped his slick hand to his hard cock, wrapping around it and slowly stroking. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he watched your fingers work.

"God. Such a pretty little cunt you have."

He stepped forward, leaving his pants in a pile behind him. You moved your hand to his hip while he slid his cock up and down your pussy, your wetness collecting on his soft tip. He lined himself up with your entrance before placing his hands on the arms of the chair, hovering over you. His lust filled eyes found yours while his plush lips parted just a little. The darkness and need in his eyes made you hold your breath. He was so beautiful, like a Greek god. But with intentions so inky and sinful, like the fallen angel himself.

He pushed into you slowly, letting you feel every inch stretch you. His face contorted while he entered you, eyebrows scrunched and mouth hanging agape. Your back arched away from the fake leather of the chair and into his chest.

"Yes, doll. Just like that. You take me so well." He praised as he leaned down to take a nipple between his teeth, biting down with the softest amount of pressure. Just enough to make you scream for him.

He moved in and out of you, setting a slow but firm pace. A shap thrust at every in stroke making you gasp. He flicked his tongue over your nipple lightly before leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses up to your neck.

"Fuck, I love fucking you princess." His warm panting breath tickling the sensitive skin below your ear. "You like how I fuck this pussy, don't you?"

Your eyes rolled back as a stream of moans flowed from your mouth. He moved off of you until he was standing, his hands found your throat, and squeezed the sides. He pounded into you, the wet noises coming from between your legs made you clench around him. He screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as his thrusts stuttered. After a moment he regained his pace and his eyes snapped open, almost black and boring into you.

"I asked you a question." He hissed though clenched teeth, his fingers digging a little deeper into the sides of your neck. Your head felt fuzzy, the lack of oxygen only making his relentless pounding more delicious.

"Y-yes. I lov-love how you f-fuck this puss-y." You stammered between whines and moans.

A hint of a smirk played on his lips as he leaned back down to you, his lips crashing into yours hungrily. His tongue twirling around yours, swallowing your whimpers. As he pulled away from you, his hands left your throat. He swated your cheek, just hard enough to leave a faint sting.

"I shouldn't have to ask twice." He grabbed your hips and lifted them, angling them up slightly.

This let him pound deeper into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. The rush of him slapping you and this new angle had you hurtling towards your release. Before you could warn him, you were shaking and screaming as your orgasum ripped through you.

"Holy shit! That's right, baby. Fucking cum on this cock." He watched as your release covered him.

He fucked you through it as he whined and let a chorus of curses float from him. You felt him throbbing inside you, his thrusts slowing down. He pumped once more before leaning his head back, moaning your name while he filled you full of his warm liquid.

He collapsed on top of you, sweaty and panting. Your fingers found his hair and stroked the damp stands, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he sat up and removed his soft member from you with a wince. You planted your feet on the ground and stood up on shaky legs. You kissed his cheek before heading off to the bathroom to clean up the mess dripping down your thighs.

....

He was sitting on the couch with just his jeans on when you walked back in the living room, a lit joint between his lips. You collected your hoodie and shorts from the floor and dressed, his eyes on you the whole time. He offered the joint to you as you sat down next to him and smiled.

"Better than a picture?" He leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

You took a drag and held in the smoke for a beat before exhaling. You nodded and coughed as you handed it back to him.

"Absolutely." You answered, resting your head on his shoulder.

As you sat in the silence, your mind raced. You wanted this. You wanted him. Not just for sex. You wanted his mind, body, and soul. You wanted to know what made him happy, what made him mad. What kind of soup he liked when he was sick. What he looked like when he cried. You wanted him to show you all the deep, dark parts of him he could never show anyone else. Your heart pounded as you sat up. You cleared your throat and turned to face him.

"Jake?" You whispered almost too quietly.

His head remained leaned back, but he opened his eyes as he took another puff of the dwindling joint. "Yes, doll?"

"I- uhm." You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. "I like you. I really like you. And, I want to be with you. No more casual sex. I want a relationship." The words flowed out of you like vomit.

You studied his face as he processed what you said. His silence seemed to stretch for far longer than you would have preferred. He sat up, putting out the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table. He rested his elbows on his knees and finally looked at you, a small smile spread on his face.

"You don't know what you're asking for, y/n." He stood up, grabbing his shirt and slipping on his boots.

He kissed the top of your head before walking to the door, opening it and sighing. He turned towards you, his mouth open to speak, but he closed it and offered you a meek smile instead. You watched as he disappeared into the hallway, the door closing with a thud behind him, leaving you with confused tears stinging your eyes and a crack in your heart.

[tanglepelt]

dc x dp snippet? idea? not too sure....

Essentially amity park is a front. The whole town was designed to recruit member for an evil group. The end game to destroy the justice league. My brain took the idea and ran with it. I may continue this. I may not.

Amity Park had always been a strange place. For as log as anyone could remember. A gimmick, a spooky town. It played its role perfectly. No one really looked into it. No one saw the mad scientist or weapons facility as odd. Who would ever think to investigate a tourist trap. The showier they were the more believable. The Fenton’s were assets at keeping tourist gullible, their driving, and obsession sold the show. Keeping the tourist distracted and money coming in. Who would notice the laser watches, they just looked normal. Any ghost attack was just a show. Any damage done and its fixed the next day as if It was planned. The town had was obviously committed to there “haunted” town.

Ghost hunters in amity just made sense. Walking around with weapons was a normal and not suspicious. Locals didn’t care and anyone else thought it was part of the gig. The bigger the dramatics the more they could get away with. With all the chaos and attacks the tourist would be distracted.

It let them track anyone who came into town. They would check in visitors with the guise of making sure they stayed in the living world. Waivers had to be signed or there was no entry permitted.

No one to see how all the kids were more observant, no one to see the the gym coach or classes, no one to see the experiments, and no one to notice the secret town meetings while the children slumbered.

The meetings discussing the children and how they’ve advanced. Who needed to be terminated, who was improving and who would soon be integrated into the loop. Every year they discussed the first-year students. It was there last chance to become incorporated or “move” after high school. They couldn’t risk any of them leaving the town unless they were in the loop. 

After all of if the kids thought their schooling was normal, they’d never question it. The president challenge was harder then most. Why would an average school require flips off the bars or the ability to scale a rope to the roof if a building. The last two years of high school centered around obstacle courses, agility and parkour in gym.

An amity child leaving without being in the fold could be catastrophic. It would only take one to alert authorities for a slight inconvenience. Authorities could be paid to look the other way or easily put down. A hero however would be a headache to deal with. This town was the center of there recruiting. It was do or die.

Now the organization will admit the ghost were a welcomed surprise. A front row sear to watch the progress the kids had. They expected the jocks or even geeks to manage it the best. The seniors to take arms and manage the threat at the very least. The oddball trio was not what they had wanted or expected.

Those three were the problem students after-all. One so into technology it would be hard to keep him in line. The network was heavily blocked a monitored but using him was an issue. He had nearly bi-passed there security on accident. Imagine if he knew what was going on. Then the goth, the activist. She was too much an individual, free thought and radical views. They’d have to break her spirit. Then there was Danny Fenton.

He had promise in the beginning. Well rounded. Wasn’t so caught up in improving others as his sister. Held good grades through elementary and through middle school and was the golden candidate until the previous summer. No longer set to focus on study’s but off with his friends.

As Sam had grown falling away from their potential, she dragged Danny and Tucker with her. Both now had more individual thoughts and opinions straying from his parents. His grades had dropped even before the ghost. Just to A- or so. Attempts to steer them away from her only brought them closer.

If they couldn’t get sam in line they’d have to cut there loses. They’d lose a good potential hacker, the masons would need a new heir someone they could actually mold to gain more funds and business, and they’d lose a potential leader or scientist.

Cutting just Sam would have led to problems. They had tried. Sam was abruptly moved for a week to see what would happen. The guise a business trip. Danny and tucker given no notice. The two took matters in their hands and hunted for her. They nearly discovered the truth of the town. Only once the Fentons explained she was on a trip did they calm down. The trio were deemed lost causes. They were set to bet terminated.

Two weeks before the plan was set to eliminate them the ghost appeared, and it was them who took charge. Now the ghost was always planned, the Fenton’s had been close to opening the portal. So close to new weapons and infinite power supply. Nothing they had done activated the portal. But the problem trio when left alone somehow got it working. The power from the portal shorted the cameras in the lab and they were unable to see how.

 Sam and tucker were out on the field. They were learning at a rapid pace. With them constantly fighting and winning. The three were considered candidates again. They’d still have to break the girl, it was worth the effort now. Add the fact they had a viable solution now.

The newest hero of amity park. Phantom.

Phantom himself would simple a ghost to take care of. Allowing the Fenton to play around for now. What fun was a hunt to them if they couldn’t play with there prey. Once it was time to rid themselves of the pest the Fenton’s could truly hunt.

For now, phantom was getting Sam and Tucker more suited for future missions. He could keep “his” team for now. Danny was obviously the one with the plan. He was never with them but had to be the main contact with phantom. Whenever Danny was around phantom would show to clear his messes.

The surprise reunion with Vlad confirmed their suspicion. Not to mention the Youngblood incident. Danny led his schoolmates to board the ship and free their parents. Only once the ghost shield was down did he go and contact phantom to come handle the rest.

An accident would be in order. It was only a matter of time until the trio grew stagnant and needed more focused teaching. The masons were still an asset they just would not be allowed to be a caretaker again. Jeremy and Pamela mason still were the main source of income. The two were good the schmoozing. Sam would just have to manage field work with her business persona as her “grandmother” had. The Fenton’s were non-negotiable and a necessity to the group. If the need arises, they be allowed to raise another.

The foleys would work. They were good caretakers but served no other purpose to the group. Framing phantom for there deaths should be enough to ignite a need for revenge and break the group apart. Introduce a new fourth to them after the shock wore off.

Valerie had grown as well. She would be brought into the loop soon. The red huntress would be an asset. Her original purpose no longer mattered. Valerie would be easy to recruit. All it seemed to take was some money and a reason to dislike a group. All it took for her to despise ghost was her father losing his job, one of the groups smartest moves yet.

Good thing that reason was already in motion. The anti-ecto acts were set to be announced tomorrow. The justice league would publicly denounce the acts within an hour. They had no reason to condemn an entire species that had shown no sign of aggression. Most ghost weren’t even visible to the public.

With Amitys gimmick who would believe the reports of supposed ghost destruction. Viral videos of it just to be explained through special effects. Keep the rest of the world believing the gimmick and the young in amity only seeing the disbelief.

The justice league would be the key to their own demise. Events have been ruined, the children had been infected by the ghost flu, Sam had been kidnapped by a ghost, and the constant attacks on the school. This was the wedge they needed to keep them in line. To bring them into the fold. The towns caretakers would make sure any opinions of the hero’s would be bad. The only mentions of the hero’s permitted of the hero’s online would be failures and misunderstandings.

Citizens of the infinite realm and ghost were two very different species. Not that the children would ever be allowed to know.

Soon the justice league would fall.