#if you look closely at the buttons on his shirt

[reyenii]

since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.

dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel “a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.

in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.

her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.

david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.

every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.

night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)

since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.

pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.

it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.

mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.

[fayes-fics]

Mirror, Mirror

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: When Benedict's wife tries on his clothes, things happen...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, cross-dressing, clothing kink, light biting, breast play, a smidge of intercrural sex, very mild exhibitionism, mirror sex, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Request fill for @d-caryophyllus (HERE) about Benedict being aroused by his wife dressing up in his clothing. I hope this fits what you were hoping for, my dear. Thanks as ever to @colettebronte for the beta read. Yes, the title is a nod to Season 3, lol. Err, enjoy! <3

It’s early in the morning on a mundane Thursday when a somewhat daring idea forms in your mind. 

Fresh out of your morning bath, you dismiss your maid quietly when usually she would assist you with dressing for the day. As the double doors click closed discreetly behind her, you glance through the open archway into your bedroom; heavy curtains still drawn there, obscuring the sunlight. In the darkness, you can just decipher the outline of your husband sleeping soundly after a late night of carousing with his brothers.

With a little secret smile, you decide that, yes, now is the perfect time. He is asleep, and you have a few hours to spare until your first social engagement - a ladies' luncheon - so why not use the time to satisfy your curiosity?

You stride to your husband's side of the dressing room, opening his wardrobe doors and running your fingers over the items within—a symphony of wools, silks and cotton, all luxurious to the touch. While he is arguably one of the more flamboyantly dressed men of the Ton, with eye-catching jewel-toned waistcoats and colourful cravats, the basics of his outfit are mostly the same every time: dark trousers and a white shirt. A large part of you is envious of that easier choice. Sometimes, it feels like a veritable minefield being a woman during the social season, the looming threat of an unintended fashion faux pas simply by wearing the wrong colour to the wrong event.

Upon a chair, you spy the outfit he discarded when he came home in the early hours, not yet tidied away by your staff. You decide this shall be your choice, a frisson that they are already worn.

Dropping your bathrobe from your shoulders, you grab the pair of his trousers and pull them on. The finely woven wool feels plush on your skin, and there is an undeniable novelty in having fabric between your thighs. They are, however, almost comically long for you, and you have to bend to roll them up a few times around your ankles. Bemused, you briefly catch sight of your reflection in the full-length dressing room mirror, topless in oversized trousers. 

You snatch his white shirt and pull it on, pausing to tug the ruffled lapels up to your face and inhale deeply, enjoying the flood of scent there. His woodsy citrus cologne, yes, but also that undercurrent that is all him. That tang you cannot help but bury your face into, be it upon his pillow when he is away or his body while you cling to him, moving together in ecstasy. 

You fasten a few buttons, then tuck the shirt into the trousers and loop the braces hanging loose around your hips up onto your shoulders, once again inspecting your reflection in the mirror with a wry smile, twisting this way and that, admiring how different you look dressed in his clothing.

“Wife, what are you doing?” 

You almost jump out of your skin as that velvet tone, slightly roughened by sleep, calls out from across the room. You twist to see Benedict leaning casually upon the archway into the dressing room, shooting you a look that is pure menacing intrigue while looking like sin himself—all riotous bedhead, and, as your eyes slip further down, gloriously naked. It makes you swallow hard.

“I… I was trying on your clothes,” you stumble sheepishly, a blush creeping over your cheeks being caught doing something perhaps rather bizarre. 

“Any reason?” he queries, bemused, that crooked smile claiming his features.

“They just seem so much more practical and comfortable—especially trousers. I would like to wear such things…” you confess, turning back to the mirror to appraise your appearance again, watching him prowl towards you in the reflection. “Are… are you vexed with me, husband? For taking such liberties?” Your words petering out, mildly abashed.

A large, warm hand wraps around your shoulder, yanking you back almost roughly, making you gasp as your shoulder blades collide with his chest.

“The precise opposite,” he rumbles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, a sudden burning intensity that makes your lungs feel tight. 

Long fingers spider down his brocade brace, draped down your chest, lingering where the strap rests over your nipple, swiping his thumb in a deliberate tease, his face triumphant as you swoon back into him from just this simple touch. 

“My clothes look much better upon you than me,” he opines duskily, his lips tracing your temple as his fingertips push the brace aside to capture your nipple through the thin cotton shirt, making you inhale sharply. “Perhaps we should attend a party with you dressed like this?”

“That would be a scandal!” 

There is a vault in your stomach at the idea of attending a social event dressed in his clothes, even as you melt under his questing touch.

“Not in the more… bohemian… circles that I know of…” he contends; his breath is a warm gust in your ear as his other hand does the same, fondling both nipples now.

He waits until you meet his gaze in the mirror again, then lowers his lips to your neck and bites gently. His incisors a faint scrape, immediately soothed by a wide, wet lathe of his tongue. A little crest of victory as something sizeable stirs against the cleft of your bottom. 

“If I were dressed as you, then what would you wear, husband?” 

“Whatever you would like, my darling,” he offers between soft, damp kisses, a tingle running up your neck from his lips to the top of your scalp. “I could wear your clothing should you wish it. Or perhaps just your corset and underwear?” He nuzzles into you, taking a deep breath. “Our little secret…”

Something about his tone, the images he concocts, makes your blood run warm, your hand reaching up and diving into his luscious hair, tugging gently upon his roots so again he feels compelled to use his teeth, a groan bubbling up from within as he does. With a flick of his wrists, the braces fall from your shoulders, and he cups your breasts through his thin cotton shirt. It makes you sigh his name, asking for more, arousal coursing thickly through your veins—a yen to be taken right away. 

“The thought arouses you, does it not?” he correctly surmises, trailing his touch down over the shirt, brushing your ribs and belly to the fastening on the trousers, making short work of the buttons.

You nod demurely, biting your lip as you watch his dextrous hands in the mirror, his arms encircling you; it is almost as if he is removing them from himself. The air feels heady as he pushes the loosened fabric from around your frame, and it hits the rug with an audible thump.

Standing before him in just his ruffled white shirt with only a few buttons fastened, you feel his weighted stare in the mirror, lingering on the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs peeking out between the shirt sides.

“I shall prefer you keep this on…” he asserts, popping open a button over your chest so the fabric opens enough for him to slide a hand inside, tweaking your nipple and pulling you back into his frame, rutting his now solid cock against your bottom.

You turn your head to press your lips to his, imploring for more of his touch in a fervent whisper before seeking a kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, rolling his tongue with yours, endless caresses of your breasts as you burn so hot you rub your thighs together in delicious anticipation of more, already more than ready for him, your clit pulsing with each tease of his tongue.

“Here?”

You know what he is asking—if you wish to have sex right where you stand, in front of your dressing mirror, his shirt loose around your body, him naked behind you.

“Yes. Yes please…” you murmur into his mouth, rolling your body against him, telegraphing unmistakable need.

“The window is open,” he points out with a smirk, nodding towards a high window that allows in light to the dressing room but affords you not to be seen; it is open this morning to let in the summer breeze. “What if we are heard?”

“I care not,” you confess, exhaling jaggedly, knowing he likes you in this state, desperate and debauched, uncaring if you may be overheard in your pursuit of pleasure. 

Rubbing yourself upon him akin to a feline in heat, moving so his cock passes teasingly between your thighs now as you writhe. He groans and tells you not to stop, hissing his approval. So you squeeze your legs together tightly, allowing him to rut between them, the pass of his cock glancing maddeningly over your engorged clit.

His touch becomes heavier, hands mapping your body as his hips surge, and you see the red, weeping tip of his cock emerging and disappearing in the mirror, an intoxicating sight. You moan lightly with every pass, a tantalising swipe, not enough to bring you real pleasure, just notching your want higher.

He finally takes pity upon you, angling his hips differently and driving into you; you, moaning at the invasion so deep and encompassing, rocked up onto your tiptoes. Every time he has entered your body, it's always the same: a force that steals your breath and makes your eyes roll. His hands are a firm grip around your waist as he withdraws slowly back, then surges in again, capturing your earlobe in his teeth as he does.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, you idly wonder how many other wives are watching themselves being fucked by a handsome husband like this; a bright weekday morning, birdsong wafting in on the scented breeze, body wrapped only in his shirt. You suspect none are quite so lucky.

You moan his name and arch back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck and watching yourself being taken, relying on him to keep your stance steady as he starts to fuck into you in earnest, large hands sliding up to cup your breasts, engulfing them in his warm palms.

Unable to stop the noises you make, each pass hitting all the spots inside that make your toes curl into the thick pile of the rug beneath your feet, your pussy clenching around his invasion, making him growl and move faster, taking you harsher, an onslaught that is as pleasurable as it is powerful.

His mouth is a breathy litany of praise into your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering closed to focus on the carnal moment - the sweat, the skin, the ragged breaths, the meeting of your bodies so primal and glorious, but he has other ideas.

“Look at yourself,” he purrs dulcetly, your eyes reopening to do as he asks, to watch this unrestrained moment of passion, to see the little marks blooming on your body from where his fingers dig into your flesh as he pounds into you now, a flourish of colour on your neck from his thorough attention.

You plead for more throatily, pushing back as best you can against his thrusts, wanting him to make you scream, uncaring of any audience inside or outside your townhouse, only craving the sweet, blissful release he always provides.

Abruptly, he wrenches open the shirt you wear, one button pinging forward and tinking against the mirror before skittering across the floor, your naked body framed by his crisp white shirt, the ruffled lapels tickling the sides of your breasts, catching sight of his handsome face in the mirror contorted in a passionate tempest.

Then one hand slides down your front, you feeling it rippling in your belly and seeing it in your reflection before you until those fingers slide between your legs and hook over your clit with a force that steals the air from your lungs, a sharp stab of pleasure that makes your knees buckle, him pausing in his motions briefly to brace your weight, keep you upright.

Then it is a blur as he restarts his motion, his fingers dance on your swollen pearl, slipping silkily over his touch as he grunts encouragements. It feels like you are circling for so long, so close to something mind-blowing, but then he flicks harshly with his fingernail and bites your neck, and you are hurtling. Everything is loud and quiet at once, no doubt your voice calling his name as you tumble over the edge, clenching hard around him as your whole body shatters and rebuilds in a blissful puzzle. Dimly, as you float, you feel his entire body tense, and with a roar, he follows you over, a warmth blooming inside you as he reaches completion. 

There are a few moments of panted breaths as you both recover from the intensity before he spins you around and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. There, he lays you down gently and proceeds to turn you into a molten, quivering pile, mapping your body with his lips and fingers until you are begging for him again, which he more than obliges. So much so you are almost late for your social engagement.

If there are a few derogatory looks as you swan into the ladies' luncheon with a blissful smile and a burgeoning mark on your neck from your husband's amorous intentions, well, so be it. You wouldn't change it for the world.

And it is also most definitely not the last time you dress up in his clothes…

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[megalony]

Resemblance

This is an Evan Buckley imagine I just had to write after watching the newest episodes. I hope you will all like it, please please let me know what you think.

(A few spoilers for S7 but not too many)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Evan brings (Y/n) along to the bachelor party and his sister's wedding to introduce her to his family. But when (Y/n) is introduced to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sorry, am I… early?"

Confusion pooled on (Y/n)'s face as she took a look around the room she had walked into.

She knew she had arrived a few minutes late. She thought by now that the room would be crammed with people and she would have a hard time walking in with how packed it would be and how her panic would flare up. But as (Y/n) looked around the function room that had been booked out, her lips rolled into a thin line and her eyes narrowed.

There were only two people in here; one of whom was her boyfriend.

Her eyes scanned between the pair of them, soaking them in and assessing what they were wearing and drinking in what they looked like. Well, more specifically, what Evan looked like.

He had on a plain white shirt that stuck to his chest, outlining his collar bone that stuck out prominently and also gluing to his abs. Over his shirt, he wore a blazer the shade of pastel mint blue with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And matching trousers that were pulled rather high up on his waist. (Y/n) noticed that the front button on his trousers barely managed to do up, it looked like it would pop open and take someone's eye out at any moment.

But Evan looked ravishing.

"Right on time, babe."

Evan's voice broke (Y/n) out of her lusting thoughts and she grinned, relaxing into herself a little more when he advanced towards her.

His hands found her upper arms and he pulled her close until her chest bumped into his and her hands found his shoulders to steady herself. (Y/n) tilted her head up and let Evan capture her in a kiss, melting in the way that his teeth scraped out along her lower lip and how when she parted her lips for air, he stole her breath in one swoop.

When they parted, Evan tipped his forehead down against hers and the way he sighed made (Y/n)'s knees go weak. He was relieved she was here, she could feel it in the way he gripped her arms and how he found it hard to hold himself up rather than let himself melt into her.

"Go on then, what're you supposed to be?" He murmured softly, letting his eyes rake up and down her choice of dress for tonight.

He felt (Y/n)'s fingers tighten around his shoulders while he looked down at her deep turquoise jumpsuit. It flared out at the ankles, mostly covering the black ankle boots she wore and it had two thin straps looped over each shoulder.

It was a perfect fit, hugging each curve on (Y/n)'s body and the V-shaped neckline was where Evan's eyes kept dropping to.

"Abba… Waterloo?" (Y/n) looked down at her jumpsuit before she looked back up at Evan.

When he said tonight was an eighties theme, (Y/n) wasn't sure what to wear. She didn't want to go full outfit or costume because she could tell that Evan wasn't going for that vibe. It seemed like a casual dress kind of party and when (Y/n) found this old jumpsuit, she realised it was perfect to match the Waterloo video from Abba.

Her black ankle boots would have to do rather than finding a pair of over the top knee-length blue boots with thick heels. (Y/n) thought she looked rather good and no one would know she was coming to a themed party which made her calmer since she had arrived alone.

"Brilliant," His voice was soft and his eyes creased with the wide smile that danced across his lips.

He leaned down and stole another kiss before he finally turned, remembering they weren't the only people in the room.

Evan curled his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist, tucking her into his side while he moved his right hand to run up and down his chin and along the side of his jaw. His smile turned sweet and he glanced his eyes from (Y/n) over to Eddie who was stood near the buffet table, hidden mostly behind his glass of beer.

"Babe, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is (Y/n), who I was telling you about." He rubbed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and pressed his lips to the top of her head. He felt (Y/n)'s hand graze across the front of his chest and her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she smiled sweetly.

"It's great to finally meet you."

(Y/n) smiled across at the only other person in the room, trying to take in the sight of him and see whether he looked like the image she had built up in her head. The image of Evan's best friend. The man who had been with him through thick and thin, on all the good calls and the bad. The person who fought for Evan almost as hard as his sister did. The man Evan had clawed through the dirt to try and find and who Evan had dragged beneath a fire truck when they got shot at.

The person in front of her did indeed match the rough outline she had come up with in her head.

He was slightly shorter than Evan, with his brown locks slicked back on his head into waves which would suit Evan if he grew his hair longer like he used to have it.

His suit was a ringer for Evan's too, a lovely pastel pink that matched Evan's cheeks and nose when he was just starting to blush at something.

"I- I… hi."

Eddie couldn't formulate a sentence. He couldn't string together one simple word or even a small 'hello' which would have been a lot better than what had just passed his lips. The only thing on his mind was one word that haunted him in the dead of night and followed him around like a shadow he couldn't shake.

Shannon.

There she was. There was his wife. The woman he hadn't been able to forget for the last four years. The woman who seemed to ruin every relationship he was in because no woman he found would ever match what he had with her.

And now she was stood in front of him. He could see Shannon in those eyes. Those deep eyes that were like black holes pulling him in until he was lost forever, unable to return to his former self. The curve of her lips was the same and her smile made her lips part like she was looking at him in wonder of something he couldn't quite place.

The way she tilted her head to one side was the way Shannon always looked at him whenever something was playing on his mind and she wanted to find out. Or how she looked at him when he was being sweet and she didn't know he knew she was staring at him.

Even the way she laughed quietly when Evan murmured something into her ear was exactly the way Eddie remembered his wife laughing when she was in public and didn't want to draw attention to herself.

How was this even possible?

How could the girl Evan was forever talking about, the one who had captured his heart so quickly and who seemed to know him like the back of her hand, how could she be the person Eddie was looking for in his dreams?

How could she be what Eddie was searching for? A way to get Shannon back in his life, in some form or another. A way to feel absolved of the guilt he carried with him like a weight in his heart, forever present, never gone. A way to tell Shannon how sorry he was, how much he loved her, how much he wanted her back because what they had was what Eddie wanted. It was something he wanted so desperately. Something he couldn't find with any other woman, no matter what or how hard he tried.

Could Eddie find it with her? In another world, could she be his second chance, rather than Evan's?

"Yeah, so Eddie's halfway to being pissed. Do you want a drink?" He spoke against (Y/n)'s temple and squeezed her waist, silently telling her that this wasn't how Eddie normally was.

He was usually first to have introductions and make people feel welcome and he was easy to get along with. Clearly he was somewhere else tonight and he was on his way to being drunk. He didn't have Chris tonight and he knew Chris was safe with his Abuela so he could let loose and get ad drunk as he liked tonight.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." Evan muttered against her temple and (Y/n) suddenly regretted what she'd just said when he sauntered out of the room towards the bar that was right outside the doorway.

Turning her head to the right, (Y/n) looked across at Eddie and tried her best to look calm and approachable.

The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to get off to a bumpy start with her partner's best friend. She knew how important Eddie was to Evan and (Y/n) wanted to make a good impression. She wanted to try and get along with all of Evan's friends who would be here tonight, but Eddie especially. He was like a brother to Evan and therefore (Y/n) wanted to get to know him and find common ground with him.

With that thought in mind, (Y/n) laced her fingers together in front of her and slowly glided across the room towards Eddie.

He was stood near the end of the buffet table, staring at it longingly like a man who'd been starved for days. He almost looked ravenous.

One hand was stuffed into his trouser pocket and the other was holding his glass right under his nose. Although, (Y/n) hadn't actually seen him take a sip considering how long he'd held the glass over his lips. It was almost as if he was using the glass as a mask to hide behind rather than to refresh himself and have a drink.

"You don't look drunk to me." (Y/n) spoke quietly but the glimmer in her eyes had Eddie's heart stuttering out an incomprehensible rhythm that physically pained him.

He could feel his shoulders pulling inwards and his upper body pushed forward like his chest was suddenly weighed down with stones.

"Hm, not yet. Soon."

There. He was speaking. Not much, not properly, but it was something. He was moving in the right direction, although he didn't quite know which direction he should be going in with her.

Why was she looking at him like that? Why did she have to smile like that? Her smile was infectious. It always had been; it was like a drug to Eddie and he wanted to get high. He wanted to get higher than he'd ever gotten before.

His eyes darted down to her lips more than once until all he could stare at was the way she darted her tongue across to wet them and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. He felt his stomach tensing and pulling inwards and when (Y/n) leaned across to look over the table, Eddie's eyes followed her.

He followed the way her hair fanned across her shoulders when she leaned over. He watched how her chin tilted down and obscured his view of those lips that resembled the ones he had missed so much. He noticed the way she pushed on one foot and leaned off the other when she stretched over to reach for one of the bowls of crisps on the table.

Before he could stop himself, Eddie reached out for her hand. He lowered his glass down so it hovered over his chest while his left hand untucked from his pocket and curled around (Y/n)'s wrist.

The way his fingers skimmed across the back of her hand sent electricity surging through his blood and Eddie suddenly felt alive. He felt on edge, reinvented, brought back to life. Charged.

"Buck wants to wait for Chimney… almost lost my arm when I went for a sausage roll." He couldn't find his usual voice. He was either speaking in hushed tones or an octave deeper than he was used to, there didn't seem to be an inbetween anymore for his normal voice.

(Y/n) stayed perfectly still when Eddie continued to hold her wrist. She could feel his fingers tapping against her hand like he had a beat in his head he was trying to drum out against her. Her back was starting to ache from staying hovered over the table, but she didn't know how to move.

Something about the way Eddie was gripping her hand made her feel nervous, worried even.

She felt like moving away from him would cause him to tighten his grip and pull her back. She worried that dropping eye contact with him would flare up some kind of reaction.

There was something about the way that Eddie looked at her that made (Y/n) feel vulnerable and afraid. It was as if he knew her but somehow, she didn't know him. He was searching for something and it was frightening. (Y/n) didn't know what he was looking for when he stared at her like that and she wasn't sure how to act around him or what to do.

When she suddenly felt his thumb glide around the underside of her wrist, she froze. He applied the slightest bit of pressure until her pulse was throbbing against his skin and she realised he was trying to feel her heartbeat.

What was he doing that for?

"Then don't let him see." (Y/n) found the will to move her hand forward and she was relieved when Eddie let go of her wrist almost as swiftly as he had reached out for her.

She took a sausage roll and popped it in her mouth while Eddie reached for a handful of crisps and followed her lead.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) took a step away from the table just as the door opened and her sights set on her partner. She felt relieved, more than relieved, to see Evan again and feel the tension start to fade from the room.

When it was just the three of them, the atmosphere felt calmer. Even after Hen and Karen, Ravi and then Tommy all arrived and subsequently left a few hours later. It still felt a little more relaxed after they had gone and (Y/n) wondered if it was because Evan and Eddie had come here with the intention of letting loose and having a good night, whether the rest of the team joined in with them or not.

She had a feeling that Tommy would have stayed to have a party and he would have had some fun with them, if he didn't get called in for a shift.

Moving out of that function room and going into the actual bar felt a lot better, it was like the three of them could come out of their shells and relax.

(Y/n) couldn't keep up with the amount of shots Evan and Eddie were taking, and she didn't want to either. One of them had to be somewhat responsible and able to get them into a cab home and call it a night when things got a little too intense or went overboard. Someone had to keep an eye on everything.

A lazy, mostly tipsy smile graced (Y/n)'s lips when she tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder.

She felt his arms tighten around her waist and his chin perched on her shoulder so he could look down at her. The way his knees started to jitter up and down made (Y/n)'s stomach churn and also made her head start to spin. He was so fuelled on alcohol that he was starting to vibrate.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sat on his lap. As long as it had been since she last went up to the bar and Evan dragged her down to sit with- or rather on- him because he said he was starting to feel lonely. How someone could feel lonely after only three minutes was beyond (Y/n), but she was more than happy to make him feel loved and secure again.

"Want another drink?"

"Hmm, I'm running on empty." He looked towards his glass which had been empty for the last ten minutes, but he didn't have the will power to get up. Or the energy to let (Y/n) climb off his lap either.

He tilted his head round and pecked her lips once, then twice. Then again until he was taking every ounce of breath held within her lungs and he had her hands digging into his wrists while he swallowed every moan he ellicited from her mouth.

"Won't be long," (Y/n) spoke against his lips, wriggling on his lap both to tease him and to get him to let her up.

She felt his hands slip round to hold her hips while she got up from his lap, taking a few seconds to find her balance. She wasn't quite drunk yet, at least not on Evan and Eddie's level, but she was getting there.

Evan's hands stayed on her waist as long as they could and she felt one hand curve round to her bum before she was finally too far away for him to hold. And he slumped back against the leather booth, whining and stretching his arms out like a lovesick child waiting and begging for attention.

It was cute.

It was more than cute, it was endearing. (Y/n) stole a glance over her shoulder and blew him a kiss before she veered to the right and wobbled towards the bar.

Her arms folded over the bar that was slightly damp and sticky with beer, vodka and God knows what else. But she didn't care. She flagged down the barmaid and mumbled "Refill please."

She knew the woman would know what drinks she was after. The amount of times they had all been up and down to the bar within the last two hours was almost unbelievable. Her fingers drummed against the counter and her lower back arched out while she leaned her head to one side and waited patiently for her drinks.

"Are we having shots?"

That dark, sugary voice took (Y/n) by surprise and she looked over her left shoulder, watching as Eddie stumbled over to her. He managed to keep himself on his feet without falling on the floor and he drummed his palms down on the counter.

His smile was so wide that his eyes were barely open anymore and he flashed his pearly whites in a smile that was clearly intoxicated but still amusing and rather cheeky too.

Somewhere during the evening, Eddie had taken off his shirt and his blazer, but now he was back in his blazer again which was left unbuttoned, showing off his shirt to anyone who wanted a look. His chin tilted down and his teeth sank into his lower lip but it didn't obscure his smile.

"No more shots for me, but you go ahead." (Y/n) didn't fancy anymore. One more shot would be enough to keel her over or have her throwing up in the toilets.

"Ah, come on. You're good at shots."

"I've had about two," (Y/n) laughed, tipping her head back before she pushed up to stand a bit straighter and clear her head. She had done two shots with the boys tonight and both of them had made her cough, even if she had downed them quicker than Evan had managed his.

"You were always good at shots. You could drink me under the table any day."

What did that mean? Where did that come from? What was he talking about?

(Y/n)'s brows furrowed and she let her head fall down at an angle while she tried to think over Eddie's words with the sober part of her mind. She hadn't met Eddie before tonight. She hadn't done shots with Evan on many occasions so surely he wouldn't have said anything to Eddie about (Y/n) being good with downing shots.

She had never drank Eddie under the table and he had far surpassed her on the drinking front. He was three miles ahead near the finish line while (Y/n) was hanging back. So what was he talking about?

"Come on, let's have some shots." It was as if his previous comment had been discarded and (Y/n) found herself nodding, although she wasn't sure if they were both on the same page or not.

She watched the barmaid place their drinks down on a tray along with six shot glasses which she started to fill up, per Eddie's request. But her eyes darted across to Eddie again when she suddenly felt his hand on top of her own.

It was different to how he had held her earlier. This wasn't him silently trying to tell her not to antagonise her boyfriend when he was in organising mode. This wasn't him holding her and subtly checking her pulse as if he thought she might be unwell or panicking over something. This wasn't Eddie holding her wrist and staring at her with a million questions she couldn't decipher nor understand.

There was an urgency in the way he dug his fingers into her wrist. He started to squeeze tighter and tighter until (Y/n) was sure she was going to have indents from where his fingers were.

When (Y/n) looked up at his eyes, she could see one hundred and one things burning within them. A drunken haze had taken over his pupils that were very dilated, but there was something in his brown orbs that made her panic. What was he doing? What was running through his mind?

"I've missed you," He tugged her hand closer until it was near his chest and he swayed back before leaning forwards, trying to find his balance in his drunken state. "So, so much."

"Eddie…"

What was she supposed to say to that? He was drunk. He was clearly thinking about something, or someone, and deflecting it onto (Y/n). She didn't know how to help or how to diffuse this situation.

"I love it when you say my name." He leaned closer and (Y/n) feared he was leaning in for a kiss.

"I- I don't understand."

He started laughing. His laugh was almost cynical and the way he tossed his head back towards the ceiling and started to run his free hand over his chin made (Y/n) take a sharp breath. It was almost like he was teasing her or making fun of her, but she wasn't so sure that was what he was doing.

She wanted to move, to take a step back and go over to Evan and tell him Eddie was drunk and might need to call it a night. But she couldn't go anywhere when Eddie yanked her wrist so sharply it was as if he had pulled a muscle. He dragged her arm across the bar until she slumped against it and her head tilted back to look up at him in fear.

"You shouldn't have left." Where did he think she had gone? Who did he think she was? What did he think was happening?

His grip on her wrist was tightening by the second and the smile faded from his lips when he leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. From a distance, it looked like he was going to tell her a secret or whisper some little knowing thought to her. But (Y/n) wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth next and she didn't know what to do or how to get out of his grip.

"Come home." His words were almost a whisper and something softened in his eyes for a brief second.

When she saw his eyes glazing over again and the hardened exterior coming back, she took her chance to wrench her wrist from his grasp.

Her trembling fingers curled around the drinks tray and she turned around, stumbling to aim for Evan who was on his phone, clearly messaging someone. Although he was having a hard time typing, he was squinting to try and see his keyboard clearly.

Eddie was just drunk. He was clearly having one of those moments and (Y/n) doubted he would remember this in the morning.

But she would. And his actions frightened her.

Who did he think she was? What else would he have done if she didn't manage to slip away from him? Why was he acting so strange around her?

***

Adreanline sparked in (Y/n)'s stomach when she felt a familiar pair of arms curve around her waist and Evan's fingers digging into her hips lovingly. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling her back into his firm chest while he leaned over so his chin rested on top of (Y/n)'s head. It almost felt like he was a blanket or a jacket perfectly shaping and curving around her.

Reaching her hands down, (Y/n) held onto Evan's wrists and gave a little squeeze, letting her shoulders tilt back into his chest so she was leaning on him slightly.

Her eyes cast up and her head tilted back until she managed to catch his eye and grin up at him. She felt him press a kiss to her temple before she looked back ahead of them.

She had never been to a hospital wedding before.

It was a different experience, having everyone cramped into the same room, all coiled together. Some smartly dressed, others wearing something casual that they slipped into last minute to make sure they were here on time.

Although (Y/n) had to admit that seeing Evan's niece in her little dress holding her balloon was a beautiful sight that made her heart melt.

For this being the first time (Y/n) had met most of Evan's team, they all seemed lovely and they were very welcoming.

She had met Maddie already, but this was the first time she had been introduced to Chimney which felt so strange to first meet someone with them lying in a hospital bed.

"…You can now kiss the bride."

She felt Evan's arms tightening around her and she grinned, dancing her eyes across the room that was packed like sardines before she looked back up at Evan. Pushing up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned when Evan tilted his head to catch her lips with his.

When they pulled apart, (Y/n) shivered at the feeling of Evan's lips gliding across her jaw until they moved to hover over the shell of her ear.

"I'm glad you're here with me." He murmured softly into her ear, feeling the way (Y/n) took a deep breath and the feel of her heartbeat pulsing beneath her skin. There weren't many special moments in Evan's life that weren't overshadowed by other things or people he'd rather forget.

To have (Y/n) here with him today to celebrate with his family made all the difference in the world to Evan. He felt comfortable, having (Y/n) in his arms made him feel complete. Like everyone in this room had someone to share the moment with, and now, so did he.

Maddie's first wedding had been a day Evan wanted to forget. It hadn't been a big occasion, most of the guests had been Doug's side of the family. And their parents hadn't bothered to show up, something Evan would never forgive them for because of how distraught it had made Maddie.

And there were so many occasions and parties and times when Evan had been there alone or he felt like an outsider. Or something had happened at work or with a partner that had dampened his mood.

So having (Y/n) in his arms, making him feel loved and happy and whole meant this day was going to be a good day. It was going to be a memory that wouldn't be tainted by bad thoughts or moods or by something bad happening.

"Me too." (Y/n) let her temple rest against Evan's jaw and she took a moment to close her eyes and savour in the feeling of his embrace.

Her lips curved up and her hands tightened around his wrists when he gently but firmly started to tug her backwards with him towards the wall. Moving them both out the way so that Maddie could move and the cake could be brought in.

Pulling on Evan's arms, (Y/n) pushed up on her toes and hovered her lips over his ear.

"Just going to the bathroom, save me some cake."

"Will do." He muttered against her cheek, turning to steal another kiss from her lips before he eventually let her squirm out of his arms.

(Y/n) tilted her head down, a shy smile gracing her lips as she coiled her arms into her chest and slowly weaved her way through the other guests in the room. She tried not to push or bump into anyone and wormed her way out the door, taking a deep breath when she was finally back in the corridor.

It was lovely to see so many people enjoying the ceremony, but it wasn't great for them all to be cramped together like that. The A/C had been turned on full blast once everyone was inside the room so they didn't overheat or begin to sweat. It was good to have a little breather and some room to herself.

Once the room had started to fill up, Evan had graciously looped his arms around (Y/n) and moved her in front of him to keep her close and so she didn't have to be too close to people she barely knew. He knew wrapping himself around her would make her feel at ease. The last thing he wanted was for (Y/n) to panic.

Rattling her fingers through her hair, (Y/n) smiled to herself and made her way down the corridor and turned the corner. She wasn't too sure where the nearest toilets would be, but she was sure she would find them on her walk.

"Hey,"

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s chest and sent shockwaves down to her stomach that became electrified.

Eddie.

She hadn't realised he wasn't in the room either. She should have noticed. She should have looked around the room again and noticed that his son and his aunt were there, but he had seemingly slipped away. Since she and Evan had turned up at the hospital this morning, (Y/n) had glued herself to his side and kept a look out for his friend.

Part of her wondered if Eddie remembered any of what he'd said or done last night. She wondered if he remembered acting strange around her or grabbing her or telling her to come home, something that had confused (Y/n) greatly.

But the way he nodded and smiled at her this morning when he arrived and how he patted her shoulder in passing like they were old friends made (Y/n) doubt herself.

She doubted whether last night had happened. Whether she was overreacting or if the alcohol had made it seem worse than it was.

Eddie not remembering any of what he said last night was a blessing though. It meant he wasn't going to act awkward around (Y/n) and it meant she could try and forget it and move on and try to make bridges with Eddie and be friends.

She wanted to be friends with him. She knew from the way that Evan spoke about him that Eddie was a great guy and she wanted nothing more than for them all to get along together. For Evan's sake.

"Hi," (Y/n) dipped her head down and ran her hand up and down her arm while she tried to control herself.

Don't act strange around him. Be normal, he doesn't remember.

"Have I missed the cake?"

"No, no they're just cutting it now… it's a bit cramped in there." She looked over her shoulder, unsure whether she was referencing the crowded room or whether she was hoping someone would round the corner and join their conversation.

"It can get a bit much, with everyone around."

Eddie stuffed a hand in his trouser pocket and moved his other hand to trace across his jaw. He hadn't shaved yet. He needed to shave. Shannon always hated it when he tried to grow stubble, she liked to trace her finger across his jawline and feel how sharp and smooth it was. There hadn't been time to shave this morning; Eddie barely had the time to get changed from his messed up suit, let alone run a hand through his hair and freshen up.

"Just a bit." (Y/n) tried to smile and tilted her head to one side. "Do you know where the nearest bathroom is?"

Her eyes narrowed and something flashed across her eyes when she noticed that Eddie seemed to be drifting. He was staring down at her hands that were interlocked in front of her, but it was like his mind was somewhere else completely.

"Eddie, are you okay?" (Y/n) took a deep breath and moved a little bit closer when it looked like Eddie was in a trance.

Maybe he was still feeling rough from last night. He certainly looked worse for wear when she saw him earlier this morning.

Placing her hand on his arm didn't seem to be the right move. The moment she touched him, Eddie seemed to snap out of his trance. His head bolted up from staring at her hands. His shoulders stiffened and pulled up. His lips pressed into a firm line that almost made him look angry, if it weren't for the sorrow building up in his eyes.

"Eddie?"

Panic pooled in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach when Eddie moved closer. He took long strides until there was no space between them, and then kept moving. His chest hit (Y/n)'s chest and she stumbled back, tripping over her feet as her stomach churned. She wasn't sure how much further she could walk backwards, but when her back hit the wall and Eddie stood in front of her, blocking her exit, she tremored.

What was he doing? What had she done to upset him and make him act this way around her? Surely he wasn't like this around everyone else? Evan never said Eddie had a tendency to be weird or act strange around new people.

"You're here… you're actually here."

She didn't understand. She couldn't understand the utter wonder and relief in Eddie's voice or the tears that were pooling in his eyes which he was desperately trying to push to the sides.

Her hands moved to press into his chest, trying not to be too rough as she tried to push him away. She couldn't have him standing this close to her, effectively pinning her to the wall. What would people say? What would they think if someone walked around the corner? This was the first time (Y/n) was meeting Evan's team and his family, and they would all think she was a cheater if they saw this compromising position.

It wouldn't matter that Eddie had started this and that (Y/n) didn't know what to do or what was happening. No one would care that she hadn't instigated this and that she didn't want this. They would see her as betraying Evan. She would never do that.

"Shannon…"

(Y/n)'s efforts faltered for a brief moment and she exhaled slowly while the wheels started turning in her mind. That wasn't her name. Eddie knew her name. Evan had been talking about introducing her to the team for weeks, he told them all about her. He introduced her last night and Eddie had heard her name. So why was he calling her that?

She couldn't hang up on the name she had never heard or been called before, she had to get Eddie off her. But Eddie felt like a brick wall, unmoveable as a mountain and his chest puffed out and became sturdy when (Y/n) tried to move him away.

Her efforts were in vain and her heartstrings became severed, dropping her heart down to her stomach when Eddie kissed her.

His lips were rough like sandpaper. His force pushed her head back into the wall. His right hand cupped the side of her face and harshly pulled her chin up to keep her level with him.

When she squirmed her head and tried to shove him off, his other hand clamped down on her hip. He pinned her hips into the wall and dug his fingertips into the back of her neck until she was shaking from the force.

Something about the excessive need and the push behind his lips made (Y/n) want to scream. There was so much he was silently trying to tell her in the kiss, but she couldn't understand any of it. She didn't want to. She hated the way his lips bruised hers as he pushed and stole what he could from her.

She felt his tongue bully its way past her lips and something between a gasp and a cry mewled into his mouth when he sank his teeth down into her lip.

(Y/n)'s hands curled into fists and she slammed them down on Eddie's chest with as much force as she could muster, trying to match the power he was pushing into his kiss.

He finally pulled back to claw a deep breath and (Y/n) tried to do the same, gasping for air while she rammed her arms into his chest to get him off her.

"No!" Her fists swung at his chest again when he pressed his weight down onto her chest, pinning her into the wall while he stole another wretched, rough kiss that made her cry.

As soon as she managed to push her weight to the left and drag her head out of his grasp, (Y/n) reared her hand back. She slapped Eddie with as much power as she could muster, watching the way the blood pooled beneath his skin and sent his face a fiery shade that would match the flames in Hell.

The slap seemed to knock some sense into him.

The fog clouding his eyes started to fade and every burning emotion welling up in those brown eyes was replaced with something close to remorse.

"I- I didn't- I'm sorry-"

When Eddie took a step back, (Y/n) stumbled to the side. She added as much space between them as she could while both her arms wrapped around her waist and she gasped for breath.

Why did he do that? She hadn't given him any signals- had she? Surely (Y/n) hadn't led him on in any way either last night or right now. She had tried to be friendly with him and get to know him, but that had been hard last night when Eddie became drunk and seemed to switch personalities. And just now, he hadn't called her by her name.

Who did he think she was?

The way he ran his hand along his jaw before he smothered his palm over his mouth made (Y/n) pause. She could see the panic building up in his eyes and when his free hand clamped down on his hip and he turned away from her, (Y/n) could see what was going through his mind.

Evan.

His best friend. The person who would come out of this worse off if he found out what Eddie had just done. Evan was the understanding type. He forgave people even when they least deserved his understanding and his respect and forgiveness. But (Y/n) didn't know how Evan would react to something like this. Eddie didn't know if this was something Evan would forgive him for.

"Don't do that again."

(Y/n)'s voice came out gritty and hollow and she brushed her hand beneath her eyes, clearing away the tears before she started to sob. She couldn't have anyone seeing her in distress and asking what was wrong.

She couldn't have Evan asking questions. There was no way she could tell him what had happened just now. She couldn't cause problems between him and his best friend, between him and his family. And this was his day. This was Evan's time to be with his sister and have a great day and have some fun and make memories.

(Y/n) could never ruin today for him.

Forgetting about going to the bathroom, (Y/n) bypassed Eddie, leaving as much space between them as she could as she made her way back down the corridor towards the room.

Part of her thought about leaving. She thought about turning left and running out of the hospital and going home. That would ensure she didn't cause any arguments, but she couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Evan first. He would think he had done something wrong and (Y/n) could never put that sort of panic onto him.

She didn't reach the room before a familiar figure caught her eye. Evan was stood out in the corridor, his shoulders slouched into the wall and his phone in his hands.

She didn't give him a chance to look at her. She couldn't risk Evan seeing the remnants of tears in her eyes or notice the panic written across her face. Or see the shallow breaths she was huffing. If he thought something was wrong he would try and find out and if (Y/n) caved in and told him, she would cause a scene and make waves between Evan and his family. She wasn't going to do that.

She ducked beneath his arm to burrow herself into his chest, binding her arms tightly around his waist while her face smothered in his chest. Each breath she took fanned against his dark blue hoodie and it helped to control her breathing and stop her from hyperventilating against him.

"Hey baby… you okay?" Evan finished the text he was sending and bound both arms around (Y/n)'s waist, tilting his head down to kiss the top of her head and breathe into her hair.

She hummed. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do now?

Turning her head, (Y/n) pressed her cheek against Evan's chest and hugged him tighter until she was almost cutting off his circulation. It made him smile against her hair and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

But he felt the shiver that rolled through (Y/n). And she hoped to God that he didn't realise it was because Eddie was walking towards them.

[pinkiealexie]

"Night..." ✟ 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦

NOTE :

Romantic, and also female reader! Very fluffy and we have sleepy Adam which is why he might be a single grain of ooc. Also this is a very short ficlet like 600 words I think??

It was dark, more specifically 1 am in the morning, almost 2.  You and your boyfriend Adam had stayed up the entire night to binge whatever shows or movies that appealed to your interest since picking out something to watch was usually very hard for anyone to do. 

His mask was off along with the robe he always wore, right now he only wore black boxers and his band’s shirt, his head resting on your stomach as his focus was on the show that was currently playing on the screen, with your hand gently running through his dark hair.  He wouldn’t even be watching the show at some points, his gaze would occasionally shift to you, admiring your beauty.

Despite Adam’s previous claims of ‘not being tired’ from earlier you could catch glimpses of his eyelids drooping every few minutes but didn’t call him out on it.  Now you think you should since you wanted him to get a good night's rest, he was a pretty busy guy after all, “You tired?” Adam nodded; You were a bit surprised that he didn’t deny it this time, not that there was a problem with it so you let out a soft hum while grabbing the remote from the night stand. 

“Lets go to sleep..I think that’s enough television for todayyyy…” Your own yawn interrupted you when you spoke, causing you to drag out the last word which caused Adam to quietly chuckle, making you let out a chuckle as well “Mmm, kay….”.  It was times like this when Adam was so soft, and so vulnerable that you couldn’t help the way your heart would melt at his behavior. 

A tired smile crept on your face when he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position, pulling you lower so that you were laying down on the bed so that he could move his head in between your boobs, his favorite pillows.   Remembering that the remote was in your hand, you click the small, red power button to turn off the TV then gently throw the remote to land somewhere on the bed, not caring where it landed since finding it would be tomorrow you’s problem. 

When placing your hand back down on the bed you felt Adam’s large hand gently and slowly go up your arm to find your own hand in the darkness of the room.  Upon finding your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and gave it a gentle squeeze almost as if checking you were actually there with him.  With your free hand you gently traced and rubbed small circles into his back, causing him to let out a small moan of bliss. 

His small breaths for air were quiet and soft, a small smile on his face instead of his cocky grin/smirk while he listened to your beating heart, his favorite melody “Night..love ya, baby…” his voice drowsy and barely audible yet you could still hear him.

You chuckled sweetly, planting a kiss on the top of his head one final time as you got comfortable and let out a content sigh, “I love you too…goodnight…”

...

In less than a few minutes he was already in a deep sleep, his soft snores being the only thing filling the room up.  Looking down at him laying on you, you realized how the moon light shined down on his face through the curtain cracks.

It took you a few more minutes to fall asleep so you decided to admire his beautifully crafted features one last time before finally closing your eyes and drifting off into a peaceful slumber with Adam.

[jobean12-blog]

Finish What We Started

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 2,676

Summary: You and Javi are finally about to get things going but you're interrupted and you can barely stand the wait to get started again.

Author's Note: I was listening to my you tube music and this song by Karmin came on, Brokenhearted. It gave me an idea that I totally ran with. It got a little out of hand but honestly it's just because I can't get enough of this man. But, what's new? haha thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: It's fun and flirty and soft and sweet and then there's Javi...oral (m rec), semi-public sex, shower sex, cursing.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

His fingers lightly skim along the soft skin of your thigh before digging in and pulling you closer. You’re in his lap, the hem of your dress hiked up to accommodate the spread of your legs and his hands exploring every uncovered inch of you.

“Javi,” you whisper against his lips.

He’s too far gone to do more than groan in response, his eyes closed, dark lashes kissing his cheeks as he kisses your lips. His hand slides higher, his grip tightening when his fingertips graze the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Ah fuck baby,” he breathes out, dipping his head to peek at the lace he reveals.

Your hands trace the broad width of his shoulders then smooth down his hard chest before you slip your fingers into the open collar of his shirt. You do your best to undo the buttons, working open the top three so you can touch his warm skin, grinning when he let’s out a hiss.

He kisses you hard, keeping one hand teasing between your legs and the other grazing your curves until he can wrap it around the back of your neck.

Just as his fingers press against your damp panties his office phone rings. It startles you for a moment and you go still but he presses his face into your neck and drags his lips along your throat, whispering, “ignore it angel.”

You sigh out his name and gently roll your hips into his hand. He hums into the kiss and starts to rub you through the fabric.

The phone rings again.

He growls out a curse and tightens his grip on you.

“Maybe you should answer it Javi.”

“I’m busy,” he murmurs as he drags your panties to the side.

“Oh god,” you moan.

A loud knock at the door makes you both freeze.

“FUCK,” he grits out.

“What the fuck do you want, I’m busy,” he yells, never removing his hands.

“We have a problem Javi.”

Steve’s voice is loud and impatient on the other side and Javi curses again, lifting his eyes to yours.

“Angel…I…”

“I know Javi,” you whisper as you start to get up.

He grabs you and keeps you firmly seated in his lap.

“I’ll be right out,” Javi says, his tone filled with frustration.

“Two minutes or I’m coming in,” Steve says.

The muscles in Javi’s jaw tighten as he looks you over, glazed eyes, swollen lips and disheveled clothes.

“Fuck,” he groans again. “Fuck me.”

“I was trying to,” you tease, hoping to lighten the mood.

His dark eyes grow darker and he crashes his lips to yours, swallowing every lewd moan that crawls up your throat.

When you separate you’re breathing heavily and you lift your fingers to trace the outline of his lips.

“Hurry back,” you say quietly.

He nods and carefully lifts you off his lap, fixing your dress before taking your hand in his and walking to the door.

You stop and button up his shirt then run your fingers through his mussed hair. You’re about to tell him to be careful but he pins you against the door and kisses you again, silencing any coherent thoughts.

By the time he’s done you’re on wobbly legs and skirting past Steve with a small wave.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles but Javi can tell he’s trying not to smile.

Javi places his hands on his hips and waits with a sigh. Steve’s expression turns serious and he claps him on the shoulder.

“We have to go,” Steve says as he leads him out of the building.

You don’t hear from Javi for the rest of the night and when morning comes with still no word you call your best friend and tell her to come over.

“I hate this,” you say into your drink. “I was about to get the best ride of my life and then bam, he’s gone.”

“Was this about to happen in his office?”

“Yep!” you answer and pop the p. “He’s a busy man and besides, I was hoping he’d bend me over the desk after round one. But noooooooo. Steve had to interrupt and make him work.”

You sigh dramatically.

“Steve is kinda cute.”

At Rachel’s words your eyes go wide with glee.

“HE IS!!! We are so going to have to set up a date for the four of us.”

“HEY,” she squeals. “All I said was he was cute.”

“Actually you said’ kinda’ cute but now that he’s officially cute it’s happening,” you tease.

Rachel leans in closer with a grin, clearly trying to change the subject. “I bet Javi’s had blue balls since he left you.”

You laugh at that then drop your head back against the couch.

“He’s so fucking sexy,” you groan and then proceed to melt into the cushions. “I just can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Wow,” Rachel chuckles. “You’ve got it bad.”

You shoot her a narrowed death stare.

“I mean I totally get it,” she adds. “He really is…” and she fans herself. “But I’ve never seen you this crazy over a man.”

“It’s his fault.”

“Of course it is,” she agrees.

“And the worst part is…” you start as you peel yourself off the couch and lean forward like you’re sharing a secret, “I like him. Like really like him. So now not only am I super horny but I’m actually worried about him too. It’s so fucked!”

Rachel stares at you and blinks several times before blurting out, “but you never actually got fucked and that’s the problem!”

You both let out a cackle and some of the tension slips from your shoulders.

“When is he going to call?!?!?”

You whine out the question and kick your feet like a child.

He doesn’t call for the rest of the afternoon and you’re slowly losing your mind. You think about visiting the precinct but Rachel convinces you to give it a little more time. Your body is thrumming with anticipation and it’s becoming too much. You have to see him again…touch him again, feel him. You have to know he’s ok.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” you sigh into the phone.

“You know he would have called if he could,” Rachel assures you.

“Yeah,” you muse.

You’re quiet for a few moments and Rachels says, “you’re going down there aren’t you.”

“I have to,” you answer. “I can’t sit here anymore.”

As you drive toward the precinct your sweaty hands try to find a firm hold on the steering wheel and your mind races. You arrive without remembering the trip and then you see several police vehicles parked haphazardly outside and a large group of officers mulling around.

You jump out of your car and frantically search for Javi, spotting Steve first, who with a swift tilt of his head points you in the right direction.

Your eyes track the movement and the first thing you notice is how his sweaty shirt sticks to his skin and his tac vest hangs loosely from his hand. His gun is tucked neatly into the back of his jeans and his dark hair is hanging messily in front of his forehead.

Relief is the first thing you feel and soon after the swift heating of your skin as you continue to stare and take in how good he looks.

He looks up and his eyes land on you. His throat works hard with a swallow and he takes a step forward. It’s all you need to get moving.

When you meet, toe to toe, he wraps his fingers around your arms, holding you in place while his gaze sweeps over you.

“I couldn’t stay away Javi.”

Your words soften his expression and he hauls you into his chest. You press your face against his neck, still glistening with sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he says. I’m a mess angel and I was going to call. We just got back.”

You grab onto him more tightly and run your tongue along his throat.

“I don’t care if you’re a mess. Everything about you is hot and sexy.”

He grits out a curse and grabs you around the waist, tugging you away from the crowd.

“Missed me that much?” he asks when he has you out of sight and caged against the side of the building.

“You have no idea,” you breathe out as your fingers explore his skin.

“Actually I do,” he answers with a press of his hips, his cock hard along your stomach.

You push on his chest to make some room, hands falling to his belt and fumbling with the leather.

His rush of breath meets your skin and a shiver runs down your spine.

“Angel?” he asks. “Here?”

You look up into his eyes and watch a bead of sweat roll down from his temple, following the hard line of his jaw before it drips down his neck.

“Yessss,” you whimper, grabbing the collar of his shirt and spinning him around. “I can’t wait another second.”

His back hits the wall with a thud and his eyes widen for a brief moment before they close at the press of your lips. You place a kiss to the warm skin of his neck, just beneath his ear. Then another, closer to the collar of his shirt. He trembles and you kiss the strong column of his throat.

You move to the other side, trailing kisses along his skin and when you bring your lips away he captures them in a searing kiss.

You part to catch your breath and slide down his body to your knees. His gaze falls to you and he hisses out a low “fuck.”

You open his belt and unzip his jeans, dragging them down his thighs with the scrape of your fingernails along his skin. The muscles in his legs shift as you pull him free, fingers sure as you stroke them down his length.

“Javi,” you murmur and lick your lips.

“Fuck angel…keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna cum before you even get me in your mouth.”

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth and tighten your grip. Your tongue darts out to lick across the tip of his cock, tasting him. It makes your thighs squeeze together and you let out a little whimper.

Your tongue runs over the length of him before you take him in your mouth, squeezing and sucking greedily to let him know how much you want this.

Withdrawing your lips to the tip, you roll your tongue around him and gaze up at him from under your lashes. He meets your stare, the sight of you on your knees too much and he loses all sense of his control.

He thrusts his hips, grabbing the back of your head to hold you in place. You meet him for every stroke, your mouth and hand working in unison until you feel him start to thicken and pulse.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck baby,” he growls.

His release glides hot down your throat and you slowly slide your mouth off him, licking up every last drop.

You crawl up his body with soft kisses, lingering on his exposed chest as he gathers you closer.

“Let’s go angel.”

He quickly fixes his pants and grabs you by the hand, pulling you toward his car with wide steps. He holds the door open, helping you in before rounding the vehicle and driving off with a screech.

When you reach his house he all but hauls you inside and drags you toward the bathroom. He starts running the water until it’s steaming up the tiles.

You take a step and close the distance, tugging his shirt from his pants and undoing each button until it hangs open at the sides. You peel it off his skin and start on his jeans. When his belt is loose you unzip his pants, bending down to kiss the dark trail of hair you slowly reveal.

“Angel,” he whispers, his raspy voice hitting you hard.

Your teeth sink into his bottom lip and you thread your fingers through his hair, letting his hands wander and tug clothes from your body.

He grips your waist, fingers tightening until he reaches up and trails a path of heat to your breast. He walks you toward the shower, placing you under the hot stream of water. You have no reaction to the cool tile as your back hits it, your legs opening to let him settle between them, rolling your hips, sliding across him so he can feel how wet you are.

You trace every inch of him, loving the feeling of the growl that explodes from his chest. It’s the sweetest torture to watch the drops of water run down his body, catching on his long lashes and sliding through the dips of muscle.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he rasps.

“I was about to same the same thing to you.”

Reaching down you grab his cock in your hand and pull him closer, every breath leaving you in a trembling mess.

His lips are everywhere and it sends you reeling but you shift until the tip of him slides inside you.

“I told you I can’t wait another second Javi.”

He purrs out your name as he presses you against the wall and pushes in deep.

“What do you want?” he asks, pausing.

You can hardly think straight with him inside you.

“Angel, tell me.”

“You. I want you Javi,” you manage. “I want you to fuck me. I want it all. Please.”

“I’ll never getting tired of hearing you say that” he murmurs.

His kiss is hotter than ever, hungrier and relentless like he has to own every part of you as he slowly finds a rhythm. His fingers work over your breast, pinching your nipple and soothing the softness after. His other hand finds its way between your legs and you can barely stay upright.

You rake your nails over his shoulders, relishing how he tenses against you and groans louder. You tighten around him and come hard, shaking in his arms as you feel him follow close behind, a string of curses falling from his parted lips.

You stay like that for a while, letting the warm water cascade down your bodies while his lips and hands continue their reverent exploration.

You wake curled up in Javi’s arms, your head on his shoulder and your hand resting on his chest. You find his eyes trained on you.

“Mornin’,” you mumble.

The early morning sunlight filters through the window and bathes you in a warm glow.

“You really are an angel,” he whispers and continues to stare.

“Javi?”

You shift and throw your leg over his waist, looking at him questioningly. “Is there a reason you’re staring?”

“I’m just making sure it wasn’t a dream,” he answers softly.

With a demure smile that contradicts your next move you kiss his lips and start to slide down his body but he stops you with a firm hand.

“I don’t think so,” he growls. “As much as I want to fuck that pretty little mouth again, it’s my turn.”

“Who said you get to call all the shots?” you demand, pushing at his shoulders and forcing him back against the pillows as you straddle him.

You rock over him and his cheeky reply melts into a groan of pleasure.

“You’ll be the death of me angel,” he grits out.

“You better mean that as a compliment.”

Bracing a hand on his chest you rub yourself over his cock, teasing and sliding over him again and again.

“Angel. Fuck. You’re playing with fire. I’m not made of endless patience.”

You smile wickedly and in one smooth movement sink down on every inch of him.

The noise he makes is obscene and you lean forward to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he smacks your ass.

You meet his eyes, dark with desire but warm with something more.

“I need every morning for the rest of my life to start like this,” he murmurs.

@blackwidownat2814 @lizette50 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989

[annwe24]

Part 2!DEVOTION

Part 1

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

You wake up with a sense of dread. The first thing you do is eyeing the neatly folded clothes on the edge of your bed. You have never questioned his fashion choice. But now, you start seeing the pattern with the color white and the doll-like features. It is almost as if this is all simply a dollhouse for him to play with. It is sickening.

You find him at his usual spot in the kitchen, cooking as always. If this was a normal morning, you would be a little noisy. However, as of right now, even a slight creak of the chair feels interrupting. Lucifer sets down your plate of food. You notice a strange glint in his eye. He is oddly quiet too. Putting on his white coat, he softly said to you:

I am going to be home late tonight. Please don't wait up, okay? Get some sleep.

Where are you going?

Somewhere unimportant.

He says as he pats your head.

…

Sleeping is what you should have been doing right now instead of contemplating. You think about a lot of things, especially memories. You remember the time you went into existence. Almost all of your life is spent here in these confining walls. Lucifer created you from the holy dust of a dead exorcist out of pure curiosity. He loves creating and experimenting. Rubber duck is just one of his countless creations, including you. He loves his creations. You can't help but smile at the memory of him hunching over his desk making a rubber duck. For something so small, he spends so much time and energy, wanting to achieve perfection. Just like how he loves you. Are you being selfish?

Bang!

The noise makes you jump out of the bed, blanket and pillows fly all over. Could it have come from Lucifer? You glance at the clock. The green electric light read as 2:04. It couldn't have been an invader. The mansion is a King’s residence afterall. You consider the most terrifying possibility: Lucifer is letting out his frustration. Even so, you find the courage to go downstairs and calm him down. For someone who is supposed to be a ruthless ruler, just the mention of your name is enough for him to stop whatever he’s doing. You can't handle the thought of Lucifer getting himself hurt.

It's pathetic. He’s pathetic. Never in your life would you have expected to see this: Lucifer wasted next to a broken vase. Even the air around him reeks of alcohol. Dusting the invisible dust on your nightgown, you mentally prepare yourself to lift his body up multiple staircases to reach his room. Looping one arm around his back, the other under both of his legs, you carry him in bridal style. Although you struggle greatly due to the weight, you can't help but feel embarrassed by the fact that Lucifer’s face is pressed close up your chest.

Finally, you manage to drop him on his king-sized bed. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you return to the matter at hand. You need to somehow change his current attire into something more…decent. Even with his white coat removed, the smell of alcohol cannot be extinguished. Hesitantly, you slowly remove the button of his waistcoat, then you move onto his shirt. The air around you feels disturbingly hot and you don't like how fast your heart is beating. As you're onto the third button, a hand shoots up to grab your own. You flinch at the sudden warmth that his hand provides, not daring to look at him straight in the face.

I’m sorry. Lucifer said with a raspy voice, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

F-for what?

You silently curse at yourself for stumbling over your words like some teenagers. You probably sound stupid right now. Before you could answer, he had used his other free hand to caress the back of your head, tangle his fingers through the soft locks of your hair. Without warning, he crashed your head into his chest. You are an absolute mess right now. Whatever game he is playing, you are willing to be the victim, melting under his touch. You can faintly hear your heart beating in tandem with his heart. Through decades of living together, you two have only given each other delicate touches on the shoulders or hands, not enough to leave burning marks on your whole body like this. You figure it is the alcohol that urges him to act so boldly. It stays like that for a while. Silence befalls on the both of you. The only sound that you can make out is your breathing noises. Just you and him. It has always been that way.

After some minutes, he lifted the entirety of your body up. You let out a small squeak as Lucifer lands you next to him onto the bed. He immediately engulfs you into a tight hug, your body flushed together. If someone were to ask you something right now, the only sound that could escape is your blabbering.

I’m sorry for everything.

The vibration coming from his chest steers reality one step further from you. Still, you collect yourself as best as you can to dissect his words. What does he mean by that?

What do you mean by that?

You find the courage to lift your head and look Lucifer in the eyes. The truth is finally so close.

I’ll…tell you everything later. Now is not the best time.

Okay, I understand.

If time is what he needs, you will gladly give, as long as the truth is delivered. Plus, you're not sure if you can understand half of the words if he decided to spill right now. The only thing you can make out right now is the fact that Lucifer looks absolutely stunning. His shirt is unbuttoned, letting you see a bit of his bare chest. His waistcoat is clinging loosely on his torso. You had never wanted to strip something off as much as this. You don't realize how dangerously close he is right now to you. Just a slight movement, a kiss can be delivered. You also don't realize how both of you are unconsciously leaning into each other. But intentionally for a kiss? You don't feel a kiss is what drawing you two closer. It is an instinct, a desire to be with one another. That desire slowly ignites into a passionate kiss you two are sharing. There is no battle to be won, no fighting for control. Just a slow dance of two mourning souls. The night passes with tenderness, clothes thrown onto the floor, forgotten. That night, your dreams are made of sweet little nothings, unaware of the angelic wings wrapping your sleeping form.

[mlmxreader]

What Remains | Cooper Howard x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ '' How I end up here''

And

"I wanna know who I'm looking at"

With ghoul please

( I didn’t watch the show but this character I.... What I'm thinking is bad...) ❞

: ̗̀➛ Cooper Howard is long dead, but maybe a part of him still lives in The Ghoul. Even if it's only a little bit.

trigger warnings : ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of violence, jealousy, sex references, violence references

╰┈➤ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Cooper was too busy with searching the chem box to even think about looking up; with you standing guard so diligently and with great loyalty, he didn't know of any reason why he should have.

After all, you had been travelling together since you saved him from a group of super mutants, and although it was not easy, you had gained each other's trust, confidence and now it felt odd if you weren't together - you were a team, now, after spending so long together.

Of course, you still had disagreements, though, like when you wanted to help your old friend Valentine and Cooper it a bullshit distraction.

"Thou shalt not get side tracked by bullshit every time," he had grumbled, even whilst aiding you in helping Valentine.

It still made you laugh when you thought about it. He never wanted to play the good guy and was really only ever out for himself unless there were enough caps in the question; but you could see it, the layer of decency hidden under all that lone wanderer bullshit.

The humanity that he so desperately tried to snuff out. Trying to run so far from what he used to be but still clinging onto gope that somewhere in all the shit, there was something - someone - to bring him back. To pull Cooper Howard back into the light at last.

You cleared your throat, drawing his attention at last.

"It's gettin' dark, Coop," you told him. "We ought to find shelter for the night, then keep going."

Cooper grumbled even though he knew that you were right; being so close to the edge of the Glowing Sea was more dangerous at night than any other time.

Ravenous deathclaws stalked the land searching for anything they could devour. Glowing ghouls with rotted brains and empty dyes were just waiting at the chance to consume any sort of meat. There was always something in the shadows.

But Cooper still slammed the chem box shut and he still stood up and gestured for you to follow him back to the ruined house not far down the road.

It had only one bed, but it still had a roof, and that was better than nothing.

At least you weren't on that fucking foggy island again with all those gulpers and anglers and crabs. so there was that.

"You take the bed," Cooper told you with a huff. "I'll just sleep on the chair."

You shook your head. "Why don't we just share? It's plenty big enough and it wouldn't be the first time."

Cooper huffed as he took his hat and coat off, putting them on the chair before sitting at the edge of the bed; he watched you with great curiosity, taking notes of every movement as if he was studying you and trying to learn your behaviour.

You didn't think much of it - he had been doing it for a while now.

Well, ever since you met up with that Ghoul Mayor who had endlessly flirted with you; you knew Cooper didn't like the fact that you flirted back, but you assumed it was only because he didn't want you to be distracted by the oh so handsome ghoul.

"Hey," you cleared your throat as you looked at him, the buttons of your shirt undone to expose only the slightest glimpse of your chest. "We're okay, right?"

Cooper glared up at you, then nodded slowly. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"You've been different since Goodneighbor," you said with a shrug. "Ever since that Mayor invited me to stay the night, you've been weird."

"Thou shalt not-"

"Get side tracked by bullshit every time, I know, I know, but it ain't that and you know it," you told him, folding your arms across your chest. "It's like you had an issue with him wanting to get in my trousers."

He glared at you for a moment, then shook his head with a scowl. "How'd I end up here? Bein' fuckin' questioned about why I cockblocked that Mayor you fuckin' couldn't wait to jump on."

"Hust tell me why, Coop," you sighed.

"He weren't right for you," he told you with a sneer. "He didn't know what it's like out there for people like us. He spent all his fuckin' time in an office doin' chems - he don't know. Someone like that can't be right for someone like you."

"And you think you would be?" You asked with a raised brow. "Then why the fuck didn't you just tell me? Why the fuck did you have to go all stupid and weird?"

Cooper grumbled. "Shut up about it, would ya? It don't matter - I ain't... I ain't who I was and I ain't never gonna go back to it. So shut up, lie down and fuckin' sleep. We'll head out first thing. Second dawn comes up."

"Or what?" You challenged.

"Or I'll take you back to Goodneighbor," he all but growled out. "And you can stay there with your pretty boy Mayor."

"You wouldn't," you shook your head, narrowing your gaze at him. "I'm not an asset to you, Coop, and you care about me - whether you admit it or not. You care, you just won't let me in... but you want to... so tell me, because I wanna know who I'm looking at: The Ghoul, or Cooper?"

His expression softened as he looked down at the ground to hide his weakness, groaning and sighing heavily. "My name was- is Cooper Howard. I'm a bounty hunter, and I hated the way that Mayor looked at you, spoke to you... but I can't be what you want, and we both know that."

You came to sit beside him, your hand landing on his thigh. "So you can't be yourself? Because that's what I'd want. I'd want the snarky, violent, asshole who shoots first and asks questions later."

Cooper didn't say anything, just put his hand on yours and nodded slowly; he couldn't bring himself to say it, in all honesty. He tried to long to snuff out his humanity that it felt wrong to even try to engage with it again; Cooper Howard was dead, and he knew that.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, please consider donating to help Mahmoud rebuild his life.

[bonezone44]

Illuminate Me (18+)

Uncle!Dave x Fem!Reader

tags: body insecure!Reader, Soft!Dave, nylons, public sex, exhibitionism, unprotected p-in-v. Pet Names: little niece, sweetheart, doll, good girl.

Word Count: 1,5k

Author's Note: We got a new dirty Uncle over here! Come and get 'im!

-----

Your step-dad's brother, Dave, gets you a job at his office. Then he takes you to buy a whole new wardrobe of professional attire. While shopping, you try on a pair of nylon stockings in a large fitting room with lots of mirrors. Dave stands behind you in black slacks, blue shirt, and red tie. His blazer is laid across one of the chairs. He wraps an arm around your waist and slides his thick fingers down your front. He lightly rubs your clit through the sheer material.

"My little niece looks beautiful, doesnt she?," he murmurs in your ear with a smirk. His eyes look at yours through the mirror.

You're barely able to focus. His body is warm behind you and his lips tickle your cheek. He smells like expensive cologne and it makes you ache.

"Answer me, sweetheart," he says coolly.

You swallow thickly. "S-she does."

"She does what?" His fingers never stop rubbing you.

"She... she looks beautiful," you say, with your cheeks on fire. It feels like the filthiest thing in the world--to compliment yourself out loud. To compliment your looks in the presence of someone else. In the presence of a man. Especially considering what you have on. An old bra that fits wonky and a fresh pair of nylons that go high above your belly button, smoothing out all your features.

Dave's other hand slips beneath the satin fabric of your bra and exposes your breast. "She feels beautiful, too." He presses his hardness against your ass.

Dave intoxicates you. His hot breath on your skin. His teasing hands. You want to take off your clothes and fuck him properly.

The fingers on your clit move further down, poking at the nylons' liner, prodding against your entrance. He rubs back and forth, between your clit and your entrance. His large hand encompassing the entire space between your legs.

"You're my favorite, you know that?" He says as he tortures you. "I would dress you up and play with you every day if I could."

He never stops smiling, either. Your heart races in your chest. Your body is warm and tingling all over. You want to fall to your knees and wrap yourself around him. You want his cock inside you.

"Would you like that, sweetheart?" He asks, biting his lip. "You wanna let Uncle Dave play with his favorite doll?"

You nod quickly. "Yes, Uncle Dave," you stutter.

"Good girl." He pushes your upper half forward, and your hands fly up to brace yourself against the mirror. Dave’s hands poke and prod between your legs until you hear a loud rip. "Good girl," he hisses. "Good girl."

Next thing you know, his bare cock is pressed against your soaked entrance. You barely register the burn of him stretching you out--your whole body is on fire and you're desperate. You stare into his eyes through the mirror as he stares back into yours. He looks as if he's in pain--his brows pulled tight and his lips snarling. You don't dare to look at your own body or expression. But you know your mouth is hanging open, gasping for air as he maneuvers inside of you. Your eyes close on their own, waves of pleasure overwhelming you with each of Dave's measured thrusts. Your hands are firm against the mirror. You feel and hear Dave's breaths against your right ear. He's pressed up against you. His hands squeezing your breasts. He grasps at your belly, too, unable to fully grip it through the nylon material.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," he says tenderly. It's a struggle for you, but you comply. His eyes are in shadow and there's a smirk on his face. "Look at my beautiful doll. Look how gorgeous she is."

Your close your eyes again. Your chest goes tight. Was he mocking you? Why was he smiling and calling you beautiful? Was this all some big joke? Part of you wants to curl up and hide--it takes everything you have to keep your hands on the mirror. You close your eyes and hang your head down towards the floor. You don't know how to feel. You try to focus on the sparks of pleasure his cock brings you.

He stops moving, leaving his cock inside of you. You want to shrink even more. Your fingers tremble against the mirror. Now there's nothing! There's nothing to focus on. Nothing to feel. Nothing to distract you from the hateful voices in your own mind.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," he says again, but you shake your head. You want to disappear. You want to start over. You wish you were never born.

He pulls out of you and you pull your arms around yourself. You want to run, but you're essentially naked in the middle of a clothing store. Dave's the one who drove you here. There's nowhere to go.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmurs. He's at your front now, wrapping you in his arms.

"Nothing," you whisper.

"Look at me," he coos.

You shake your head again.

"Look at me," he says much more sternly. It scares you enough that your eyes burst open. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know," you stutter, because you don't. You don't know what's wrong anymore.

"Yes, you do. You know what's wrong. Tell me what's wrong." And he sounds so certain about it that maybe he's right. Maybe you do know what's wrong.

You close your eyes and think about it. Thinking about what made you stop. "I feel stupid. I feel like a joke."

"Why do you feel like a joke?"

You glance at his face. He doesn't look angered by your answer like you thought he would be. He looks concerned--confused. "I'm so ugly--"

"No," he says with the same certainty as before.

Now you're confused. "But--"

"No," he repeats coolly. "No, you're not. You're beautiful." One large hand rises to cradle your face. He speaks to you so matter-of-factly, with the same certainty as before. You begin to question everything you've ever told yourself. You close your eyes and breathe. When you look at him again, he's calm--patient. No one's ever been so patient with you before. You put your face into his chest and breathe him in, breathe in his cologne and his warmth. He leaves one hand on your cheek and steps back, pointing at the mirror. "Look. Look at how beautiful you are."

You look, but your mind doesn't register that it's you--that it's your own body reflecting back. Breasts pulled out of your bra. Hole ripped in your stockings. You shake your head.

"Why would I lie to you?" he asks with a shrug. There's no pressure to his question. He sounds genuinely curious.

"I--" you don't know how to answer. You're not sure why he would. You don't know what he gets out of all of this. He was so handsome, professional, powerful. There were secrets he kept, but everyone has secrets. And something about it tells you that the secret is definitely not another woman. Unless he has some alternate family somewhere--but you work with him now. You know his business trips are just that--business. You've even bought the plane tickets for him and booked his hotel rooms.

And why would he lie to you? Why would he be so patient and giving of his money and time? Your own parents had never offered so much. They were frustrated when you asked for just ONE new outfit for your new job. And here Dave was buying you an entire wardrobe--and gladly! Maybe it really was affection. Maybe he did have feelings for you. Maybe he did find you beautiful. And maybe it was the truth--maybe you were beautiful.

"I'm beautiful?" you asked, with tears in your eyes and quivering lips. It wasn't registering fully, but the feeling in your gut told you you were getting somewhere better than where you were before.

"You're gorgeous," he shrugged again.

You looked at him with a nervous smile of appreciation. He was so sweet. You'd never met a man so sweet. "Thank you."

"For what?" he smiled, caressing your cheek.

"Everything," you choke out through your tears. But they were happy tears.

"That's what uncles are for, sweetheart," he grinned. "For spoiling their beautiful nieces." He stepped closer to you. "Do you want me to keep spoiling you?" He said low, under his breath. You nodded immediately with an excited smile. He got behind you again. "Brace yourself." He smirked.

You put your hands on the mirror again. And instead of looking at Dave the whole time, you looked into your own eyes as he pounded into you and tapped your clit through the nylon material. 'I'm beautiful. I'm beautiful. I'm beautiful,' you told yourself again and again. It was a blur of pleasure and healing and wholeness. Dave rushed to cover your mouth when you came. You two hadn't been very discreet AT ALL for being in public.

The store associates were charming enough to not say anything when you rang out. It probably helped that Dave was easily spending several grand on your purchase. The woman at the counter gave you a tender, knowing smile as she handed over one of your many bags.

"Let's go out for lunch," Dave said with a proud smile as he grabbed your hand. You agreed, feeling lighter than you had felt in years.

+++++

[spctrsgf]

laser tag

summary: first date w marc BRO I NEED HIM (i'm just a girl)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language?? i don't think this one needs any??? crazy unheard of ik i just miss my man

a/n: me spawning every three months to drop a piece ain't cool I KNOW BUT LIFE HAS BEEN SO BUSY i miss u guys i am trying so hard to be more active :((((

Marc.

Marc Spector.

His name is Marc Spector.

His name is Marc Spector, and he is downright nervous.

His palms are sweating, this is getting embarrassing. It's just a date. All he had to do is get dressed nice, the verdict being in something that he'd found in the back of his closet. It's been ages since the last time he'd needed to suit up, in not his Moon Knight getup.

He walks back to his mirror, turning to the back to make sure all of his clothing is straightened properly for what feels like the millionth time. He runs his hand down the back of his suit, bringing himself to face front and tightens his bowtie.

This is stupid. He pulls off the tie, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt and flattening it nicely against his collarbone. A tilt of his head to the clock tells him the time: 5:45. He shakes his hands out lightly, trying to muster up some sort of confidence before he grabs his keys and makes his way out the door.

He navigates his way to the place you two had picked out, nervousness bending to excitement as he sees the flashy sign. Its effervescent light is so enticing he finds himself pumping on the gas in excitement. After parking and stepping out of his car, he sees you at the door. 

Well, that's sure to stop him in his tracks.

You're dressed up in his favorite color. You’d asked him, the night before. He snorts. What a sneaky move. Your outfit fits you perfectly, and your smile when you notice him is to die for. He feels his hands getting clammy again and his cheeks dusting as he wills his wobbly knees to move towards you.

“Hi,” he drops out, nearly breathless as he comes within talking distance. You're even more stunning up close. “You look…” You smile brightly at him, your own cheeks pink as you giggle at him. “Hey, Marc. You look,” you pat his chest, pulling at the edge of his shirt. “As well.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

“My bad, sir.” You tease.

“Don't hit me with that,” he pushes open the door to the place, letting you walk in ahead of him. “I’m paying. Could get you a shitty gun.”

You toss your head back at him with a tilt. “Please. You know I’d still be better than you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

You both giggle as you make your way up to the front desk, Marc buying all of the tickets and you leaving punchy lines the whole way through. Soon enough, the two of you have been suited up and are ready to play. 

You two had decided that you would be on the same team, fighting against another sweet couple who were just as determined to win. “Marc, look at his shirt,” You point towards one of the men's shirts. “It's white. What a bold move.” Marc snorts, but you're right; the shirt glows like headlights. You can't miss it. “How good do we think he is?” He whispers back.

“Either really fast or a newbie who doesn't quite know they use UV lights yet.”

He snorts. “Laser tag newbie. Who hasn't played laser tag?”

“Not everyone.” You bump his shoulder. 

“Watch the video, baby.”

“Oh, pet names,” you giggle as you face the screen with a shit eating grin. “Didn't know we were there yet.”

“We don't have to be.” Panic flashes across his face.

“No, no. I think it's sweet.”

With that, you two go silent, both blushing from the high of your banter. You make your way out into the room soon after, settling into a competitive spirit. You quickly map out your plan to tackle the other couple based on what you had seen and previous experiences with laser tag, kicking into rapidfire excitement with Marc on your heels.

The game will start in… the automated voice booms on the loudspeaker, nearly scaring you. Marc giggles at your surprise, but a sharp slap to the side quickly quiets him. 

3…

He turns his focus to you, admiring the way your brows are furrowed in concentration and your fingers flex impatiently in time with the dart of your eyes. You're locked in, solely focused on the game.

2…

Your lips curl into a slight smile. You know he's looking at you; he hasn't quite figured out that subtlety, you've gathered. It's exhilarating, confidence boosting, to have someone so blatantly admiring you. 

1…

He realizes he's staring. That’s so creepy, he scolds himself, turning forward and remaps the room in front of him. He scouts out the best hiding spots, how to get to where he needed to go, kicking into his dump of internal lunar habits.

Fight!

He's off in a flash, bounding forward in a mess of anticipation and adrenaline. He's determined to impress you, ready to rub it in– only a little– when he places first and you second. 

Oh, is he in for a shocker.

You’ll give it to him. His moves are so smooth and calculated. He moves with the agility of a cat, dipping left and right. His eyes scan for any movement, so meticulous you’d think that maybe there was a cat up in his brain, telling him what moves to make next. But he lacks one thing. In all his glory, in all his advantages, you have one thing to top him. 

Patience. 

You pause, you don't move to take the higher ground, you crouch, and you wait. You let one of the men come forth, let him think you didn't see the way he crept behind the block to your left. You let him think he won. 

He launches forward, as you had expected, triumphant in the thought that he had captured you, unbeknownst to you. You turn, shutting one eye and slamming your finger down on the trigger button.

The shot seems to go in slow motion to you and to the man. It felt like a shot out of a movie, so picturesque that you couldn't breathe through the cliche. It blips into the plastic on his chest with a blue flicker, surprising him. You can hear his confidence shatter with the ring of the buzzer.

The man turns, heading back to his base to revive himself, only turning back once to nod with a sense of respect. You tilt your head back at him, smiling. With that, you dart off towards where you see Marc, gaping at you from behind a barricade.

Your free hand cups his cheek as soon as you get close enough to touch him, bringing your face up and just a hare's breath away from his own. “How'd I do?” You murmur. He blinks helplessly at you, barely managing to conceal his groan when you pull away from him.

“C’mon, lover boy,” you turn back, ushering him forward. “We got a laser tag game to win.” He follows you without a question nor a word, a dumbstruck smile painting his face.

He definitely chose the right person.

[impala-dreamer]

Temptation & Consequences

A Short Story

~Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

2,176 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Dom!Jensen, sub!Bratty!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Kinda rough(ish) sex, Delicious.

A/N: Another block off my @jacklesversebingo board. The prompt was "temptation". Also written for Kym who wanted some hair pulling. Hope you all enjoy!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

His phone buzzed.

He couldn’t hear it, but he felt it vibrating in the front left pocket of his tight jeans.

Ignoring the alert, Jensen stepped up to the mic stand and reached for it, tipping it up slightly so that it was aimed at his lips. He smiled and the crowd swooned. That was all it took- just a flash of a grin and a sweep of green eyes and the whole room fell to its knees. It was too much power, and inevitably fleeting, but he loved it just the same.

Another alert shook against his thigh and Jensen’s attention was pulled away from the purple-haired teen who was timidly inching closer to asking her actual question. He knew who was texting and it was all he could do not to sneak a peek at his screen.

“...And yeah, so I just wanted to say thank you. My mom and I really love Supernatural.”

Jensen smiled and nodded in thanks. “Your mom?”

The girl blushed. “Yeah. She made me watch.”

The cell buzzed again.

Jensen pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze at the girl. “Your mom,” he said again, making the front row snigger. He raised a brow and acted offended. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I am so old…”

The crowd laughed and the girl hid her face.

“I’m sorry!”

Jensen shook his head. “Fourteen,” he echoed. “Sheesh. Who’s your favorite Winchester?”

The girl chewed her lip and bashfully leaned into the microphone.

“Well?” Jensen grew comically annoyed.

She cleared her throat. “Sam.”

With great flare, Jensen tossed his hands up into the air and spun away.

As the audience enjoyed the theatrics, Jensen’s pocket vibrated twice and he gave in, dragging it free from his jeans. While the room was distracted, he checked the messages and his pulse raced.

‘You look so fucking hot today, J.’

‘that shirt is killing me. The buttons… your huge arms…’

Jensen looked up at the crowd, his cheeks beginning to burn.

‘Need your big cock in my mouth’

‘Or right here…’

He scrolled down to the last message and was met with a close up of Y/N’s bare tits. Her nipples were hard, her skin creamy and begging to be touched.

With a thick swallow, Jensen closed the messages and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

“This is why I don’t do panels alone!” he joked, swinging back toward the mic.

Fans came and went, questions flew around his head. There was nothing that he hadn’t been asked before and he was able to phone it in well, all the while thinking about his own phone. Two more texts came through but he refused to look at them, knowing Y/N was just upping the ante by teasing him some more.

“Who would win in a fight, Soldier Boy or Dean?”

Jensen laughed at the question as if he’d never heard it before. He had.

Another buzz.

He scratched a hand down his cheek and grabbed his phone, looking quickly before jamming it into his back pocket.

‘Hurry. Im starting without you’

A photo of her fingers against her thighs, tips poised and ready to dip into the sweet honey between.

He hissed a breath in and then let it out slowly, pretending to ponder the question. Finally:

“Well, obviously Soldier Boy is a supe, so he’s stronger…”

The crowd was divided, half cheering, half booing. Jensen held up his hands and called for patience.

“That being said,” he growled into the mic, “Dean is a genius and he’s always got a plan. I think he could kick a little ass before goin’ down, don’t you?”

Half a smile from his plump lips pulled the audience back together and everyone, no matter which character they favored, cheered and had Jensen’s back.

He always won them over.

The final message came through and he glanced at the screen while the audience carried on. A photo of her wet fingers pulling at her juicy bottom lip greeted him. Her pink tongue was curled and ready to steal a taste and Jensen could all but hear her intoxicating moan.

He clenched his jaw, shoved the phone back in his pocket and slyly adjusted himself.

She was gonna get it.

He’d make sure of it.

Y/N was backstage when he stepped through the curtain. Phone in hand, she leaned against the wall, eyes heavily painted and staring as if he were the only thing she could see. She was dressed up for the convention, skirt short and boots tall.

Green eyes traipsed down her body, making her pulse quicken.

Jensen shook a few hands, chatted quickly with his assigned volunteer handler, and fake-smiled at everyone around him. He kept one eye on Y/N, glaring his disapproval and offering a stern warning.

She could run if she wanted to, but he knew she wouldn’t.

Pleasantries done, he pushed through the crowd and slowly walked towards her. She stood up straight as if pulled by puppet strings and bit her lip, scared but aglow with anticipation.

He dipped his chin and pointed at her with a solo finger, shooting an invisible bullet at the center of her. She shivered and he motioned quickly to the hallway.

Defiant, she stood frozen on the spot until his thick fingers curled around her upper arm and yanked.

Not a word was spoken.

Not until the door slammed behind him.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, flicking on the light and illuminating the empty conference room. A long, highly polished table sat in the middle of the room, its chairs stacked against the blank back wall.

Jensen took a step toward her and Y/N countered, falling back a pace.

“Well?”

She swallowed hard and smiled. “I mean… I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

He sucked his teeth. “And what, exactly, were you trying to do?”

A tingle of fear soaked arousal ran down her spine and Y/N took another step backwards.

“Um… Just trying to… uh…”

“Get yourself in trouble?” he grit.

She shook her head teasingly slowly. “No…”

He loomed above her. “Get me hard on stage in front of everyone?”

She bit back a grin. “No?”

He lunged forward, grabbing a giant fistful of hair and tugging her around. She spun on the spot, guided by his firm grip, and held in a gasping cry.

“You wanted my blood to boil, didn’t you, little girl?”

She held her breath.

He pulled harder and her back arched.

“You wanted to get me so worked up that I’d have no choice but to take out all my frustrations on you.”

Jensen turned his wrist and wound her hair around his hand. Her neck lengthened and curved backward. He dipped his lips to her ear, growling deeply.

“Was that your plan?” He tugged again and she moaned. “Answer me.”

His breath on her ear sparked goosebumps along her throat. His voice made her tremble. The surge of pain he invoked traveled down to her cunt and she could feel herself drip.

She exhaled her reply. “Yes…”

A tiny smirk played upon his plump lips.

“Did you think you’d get away with it?” he teased, pulling her back to fall against his chest. The hand in her hair dropped to her throat and his fingers curled around the front. He didn’t squeeze, just kept his hand in place, letting her know that he could.

She knew it all too well.

“Did you think I wouldn’t punish you for all that teasing?”

She swallowed against his palm. “I… I knew you would.”

Jensen snaked his left hand around her waist and up to grab her breast. She whimpered, let her head fall back against him.

“Wanted you to,” she confessed.

He pinched her nipple and snapped his teeth by her ear. She shivered.

“You’re a bad girl, Y/N…”

Helplessly, she nodded. “I am.”

His fingers tightened gently around her pulse points and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. Her heart raced, her head became fuzzy.

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed. His left hand slid down her front, tucked into the warmth between her thighs. He hummed darkly when his fingers slipped against bare flesh. “No panties, either?” He tapped on her slit. “You are asking for it.”

He teased her pussy, dragging his middle finger back and forth over the sensitive outer lips but never pushing inside. Y/N rolled her hips back and felt his cock, hard and trapped in his jeans.

She chewed her lip and wiggled her ass against him. “You gonna give it to me or do I have to go find someone else to help out?”

His voice deepened. His fingers squeezed a bit more. “Excuse me?”

Y/N laughed teasingly. “I don’t know, Rob’s looking pretty hot today… got that sexy beard going-”

With a shove from behind, the table came up to greet her and Y/N found herself face down on the polished top.

“You think so?” Jensen yanked her skirt up, exposing her ass and wet cunt.

“I always think Rob is hot,” she answered, pressing her luck.

Jensen opened his belt, ripped his zipper down.

“Especially with that stupid little hat…”

He’d had enough.

He clenched his teeth, kicked her feet apart, and grabbed her hips.

“Shut up,” he warned.

Y/N smiled into the cold wood. “The things I would let him do to me…”

“I said, shut up.”

Y/N opened her mouth to expand upon her lustful feelings for his friend, but Jensen forced a choked cry out of her instead.

In one unceremonious thrust, he was buried deep in her slick hole. Her pussy gripped him tight and Jensen inhaled hard and loud, his eyes snapping shut as lust and relief washed over him.

“Fuck…”

Y/N’s eyes rolled as he crushed into her from behind; the warm, solid mass of him pinning her to the table. She managed to push her palms up against her chest and lift her head, but his thrusts were quick and powerful, each forcing her back down onto the table.

“God, Jay-” Her voice crackled. Her breath stuttered.

His nails dug into her sides and Y/N moaned.

“Needed this so fucking bad,” she whimpered.

Jensen clawed at her ass and then slapped her left cheek hard.

She gasped but couldn’t move away. Moaned but couldn’t reach for more. She was desperately captive.

Another crack and she melted. Gentle pain spread like warm honey through her system and she relaxed, falling into his rapid rhythm.

His hips jerked faster, cock jabbed in deeper. She clenched around him, her body pulsing with edging pleasure.

“Please-”

Jensen growled wordlessly, lost in the moment. He bent his knees, dipped down and slowly stroked upwards.

Y/N hissed and clawed helplessly at the table. With nothing to hold onto, nothing to scratch, her nails slid across the smooth top and she shuddered. “Fuck! Please!”

Once more, he grabbed her hair; his palm pushing hard at the base of her skull. He twisted his wrist, yanking up a ponytail into his fist.

“Yeah? You want all this?”

He pulled and her back arched, lifting her chest from the table.

Her voice was shaking. “Y-yes!”

The web of pain mixed with his swift thrusts and Y/N came, her body squeezing him hard. Jensen let out a tight-lipped cry and slammed into her again and again, quickly following along.

“Fucking, fuck!”

When his hand relaxed, Y/N fell back down to the table and struggled to slow her breath. She could feel him stuffed inside, hesitant to back away.

“So good, baby,” she cooed.

Gently, he let himself fall over her and lean close to kiss her cheek. “Was, wasn’t it?” He grinned, toothy and punch drunk.

“Remind me to text you more,” she laughed as he moved away, releasing her from captivity.

He shook his head, tucked himself away. “Don’t even think about it.”

Green eyes were stern, but she knew he’d enjoyed himself too.

Spinning around, Y/N pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. She licked into his mouth while sneaking a hand around to dig in his back pocket. Quickly, she withdrew his ever-present bandana. His cum was beginning to drip down her thigh and she needed to wipe it away before heading back out into the real world.

She took a step back with the kerchief and Jensen grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t think so,” he grunted, ripping the bandana from her hand.

Y/N startled and gaped up at him. “But- I gotta clean up-”

His teeth dug into his lip. He shook his head. “No. Leave it.”

Turning away from her, he shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and headed to the door.

She gasped as his hand hit the knob. “Jensen! Someone might notice!”

Looking back over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it? Maybe next time, you’ll consider the consequences.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[glorixuspurpose]

Seven Minutes

Ryomen Sukuna x Black!afab!reader

Note: my first time posting smut😭 it’s not that great but read at your own risk!!

 “Alright, it’s your turn.” All the eyes in the room turn to you as you sit there awkwardly, the empty glass bottle practically forced into your hand. 

You place it in the middle of the circle, making it spin. 

You sit there, half in anticipation and half in fear, as the bottle begins to slow down, about to land on one of your upperclassmen, Satoru Gojo, until a tattooed arm comes into your line of vision, stopping it in front of him instead. 

It was Sukuna, probably the most intimidating upperclassmen of all, from his tattoos to his dark demeanor. You silently curse his younger brother, Yuji, for inviting you to this damn party in the first place. 

 Satoru glares at him, yet still doesn’t argue as the two of you stand. Satoru practically pushes you two down the hallway, more like you, since Sukuna was way heavier than you, and into the closet. “Seven minutes!” He yells from behind the closed door. You sit on the floor, under what you can assume is coats. 

“Why did you stop it?” You ask. 

He shrugs. “I’m better than that white-haired fool. I don’t trust him either.”

You bring your knees to your chest. “Oh.” 

He continues to stand, towering over you from your spot sitting down. Despite his looks, he’s actually not that tall.

 “Don’t stay all shriveled up like that. You look like a scared child.” 

You change your position, still seated. 

“Stand up.” You immediately shot up, almost tangling yourself in the coats. 

“Much better.” He steps closer to you, inspecting your face. 

“What’s with the tattoos?” You ask.

He fakes a pout. “What, you don’t like them?”

“N-no I never said that, I just—”

“I get what you mean, princess. I got them because they’re badass. And because people kept mistaking me for my baby brother.”

 “I can see that.” It was somewhat believable, since they both had the same upward sticking pink and brown hair, and an almost similar muscular build. 

He smirks. “So..you like them?”

You nod. 

“I prefer verbal validation.” 

“O-oh, um, yeah..I do.”

He moves closer to you. “Good. You wanna touch them?” He held up one of his muscular arms, covered with thick black stripes. 

Carefully, you traced your finger over one of them. 

“Nice, right?” He asked. 

“Yeah..”

 “Five minutes!” Satoru yelled from the other side of the closet door. Sukuna rolled his eyes.

“Ignore that idiot.”

 You finally took your hands off his tattoo, letting them drop to your sides.

“So…what now?” You asked. 

He stepped closer. “Have you never played this game before?” He tilted his head.

“No…”

With one finger, he tilted your chin up to look at him. “I guess I should show you then, hm?”

You nodded. “Yes..” Without an extra word, he leaned in and kissed you; roughly. 

He moved his hand to the back of your head, holding you in place. 

 He moved his other hand to under the buttons of your cardigan, his hand sliding under to palm your left breast. “Nothing under, huh? That seems unlike you.” He teased. 

He unbuttoned the rest of your cardigan, letting it drop to the floor. Your entire torso was exposed. He pulled away from the kiss. 

“What else should I do then, huh? Tell me what you want.”

“Iwantyoutotouchme.” You rushed out. 

“Hm?”

 “I want you to touch me.” 

“Ask and you shall receive.” He moved his hand lower, to your skirt, and pulled it down with one swift motion. The only thing standing in his way now was your underwear, but he’d get to that later. “So you were hiding all this?” He moved closer, his body practically pressing against yours. He placed another kiss to your lips before kneeling down, face to face with your pelvis.

“These need to come off too.” He slid off your underwear, letting them drop to your feet. 

“Lie down, for me?” He let you go and you complied, your head just under those same coats. 

He took off his shirt, revealing more tattoos. 

 “Already so wet for me..”

He put two fingers inside you, making you let out a moan. 

“Three minutes!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He snapped. 

“Well okay then.” Satoru responded, sounding kinda grouchy. 

He chuckled, moving his fingers faster inside you. “You like that?”

You nodded vigorously, covering your face with your hands. 

He used his right hand to pry your hands off your face. “You know I want to see your pretty face.” Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of you, making you groan at the sudden emptiness. 

“Why’d you stop?” You whined. 

 “We don’t have a lot of time.” He got on his knees, unbuttoning his pants and letting them drop to his knees. You could tell that he was big by the curve in his boxers.

He pulled his boxers down next, revealing more stripes on his thighs. 

“Your tattoo artist sure got a big payout, huh?” 

He gave a sarcastic chuckle, before pushing himself inside you. 

“Shit!” You cursed, your hands immediately going to cover your face but he grabbed your hands, holding both of your wrists with one hand above your head. 

 He thrust into you faster. “Look at me.”

He used his other hand to hold your jaw in place. 

“One minute!”

Sukuna took that as an alleyway to go faster, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the closet, and most likely the hallway. 

He gave about three more thrusts before spilling himself inside of you. 

Both of you panted as he laid on top of you, catching his breath before getting dressed again. 

“Hopefully you learned.” He said, wiping off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

 The doorknob of the closet turned, and Sukuna immediately went to hold the doorknob to keep the door closed. “Get dressed.” He mouthed. 

You stood up and got dressed again, digging in your purse that you forgot you brought with you for some perfume. 

You exited the closet, knowing Sukuna was probably still getting dressed. 

“I heard the whole thing.” Satoru smirked.

You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. 

 “Don’t stress about it. Now hurry up and go back.” He winked at you as you rushed down the hall.”

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Our Love Story

Nanami Kento x Reader

Part 9: Test Result

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

(Song Inspiration: u & I by Anthony Russo)

You couldn’t help but pace back and forth around Nanami’s apartment. Nanami was on the couch, trying to read his book. However, he can feel your anxiety. You were like this since the afternoon once you took your license exam. You took the bus to the testing center and Nanami picked you up as he was able to leave work early. But you couldn’t help but let your mind race. You skipped dinner no matter how much he tried to have you eat.

“Sweetheart?” he called. You continued pacing, too distracted to hear him. Nanami marked his page and stood up, walking towards you. “Sweetheart.” He held on to your shoulders, causing you to jump.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” you asked nervously. Nanami gave you a small smile and kissed you softly.

“Want me to draw you up a hot bath?” he asked.

“I hate waiting. I need these results. I finished with 85 questions. I’ll never know if I failed or not. I’m freaking out. I don’t know what to do,” you rambled. “I probably misread a lot of questions or second guessed! I’m gonna have to retake it. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Oh gosh. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Sweetheart, I know you passed. You worked your ass off for it,” he said. You bit your bottom lip.

“I-I…”

“Sweetheart.” Nanami pulled you in his arms. You felt some relaxation in them, but the nerves were too much. You held on tightly to him.

“Can-Can you join me?” you asked him. You blushed, hiding your face in his chest. Nanami felt his body freeze for a bit as he felt his face heat up too. “Or just stay with me while I’m…I mean, I prefer…I…” Nanami is flustered. He didn’t know how to answer you. He knew he wanted to join you, but the two of you never gotten that far in the relationship. You have seen him topless and you sleep in his shirt and your underwear. You like wearing his shirts, even button ups in your underwear around each other’s places, but never beyond that.

“Do you prefer me joining you? Will it help?” He watches your head nod. “I’ll do that.” You swallowed a large lump in your throat. But you wanted to stay in his arms.

You returned to the bathroom where Nanami filled the tub and the top was filled with more bubbles than usual. You chuckled to yourself. Nanami looked up at you with a smile.

“Go ahead in, I’ll be back,” he said softly. You nodded. Once he left, you quickly stripped off of your clothes and entered the tub. You smiled once you sat down. It was the best thing you did after that exam. You feel like you could just fall asleep right now. You heard a knock and you told him to come in. Nanami entered the bathroom with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. “I figured this would be nice too.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the greatest boyfriend in the whole world?” you asked. He placed the glasses down on the floor.

“That might be the first time actually,” he replied. You blushed.

“Well, now you know. Are you coming in?” Nanami nodded and motioned you to turn around, and you did. You could hear him remove his clothes. Your heart started pounding and racing. He climbed inside, sitting right behind you with his back against the tub. You slowly leaned back against his chest and sighed in relief.

“Is the bath a good idea?” he asked slowly and shyly. You nodded and hummed happily in response. “Can you grab a glass for me, sweetheart?” When you did, Nanami filled the two glasses. You slightly turned around and clinked glasses with him before taking a sip.

“C-Can we do this often?” you asked, shyly averting your gaze away from him. Nanami smiled.

“Of course, my love.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and carefully pulled you close to him. He softly peppered kisses on to your shoulders, giving you all the butterfly feelings in your stomach. You held on to his forearm and leaned your head against him. You sank more in his arms, forgetting about how conscious you felt about this situation.

“This helps a lot,” you said. “Thank you so much.” Knowing that you were fully relaxed made him relaxed. The two of you remained silent, and you were both content with it.

Nanami would find ways to keep your mind at ease for the past two days. Before he went to work, he’ll make you a small breakfast and a cup of coffee.

“Take my card. Go out and have fun. Treat you and your friends out if you want,” he said. Your eyes were wide as you stared at his credit card. Nanami lightly chuckled and held your wrist so your palm was facing up and placed his card in your hand.

“I can’t just…you know I can be an expensive girl, right?” you questioned.

“That’s okay,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Aren’t you worried that I can have this possibility of taking advantage of this opportunity?”

“If it relieves your stress, then I’m okay with that.” You looked at him as if he had two heads. Nanami leaned in and softly kissed your forehead. “Sweetheart, I’m stuck at work. I can’t be with you and I don’t want you freaking out while I’m gone. Please?”

“You know I worry about you while you’re at work too?” He nodded.

“I am aware. I expected that.”

“Thank you, Kento-kun.” You leaned up and kissed his lips.

Your legs shook as you sat on the couch. You impatiently waited for Nanami to return home from work. Your eyes couldn’t leave your laptop. You stared at the computer screen where you could purchase your results early. You haven’t paid for it, your legs shaking from your nerves.

“Sweetheart? I’m home,” Nanami announced. The silence worried him. He quickly became comfortable as he walked to you. He stared at your frozen body and shaking legs. Your hands were folded and by your lips. “Sweetheart?” No response. He has a feeling what happened. “Did your scores come in?”

“Yes. Come here please,” you answered with a monotone voice. He took a seat next to you and held you close with his arm around your shoulders. “You should click on it.” This time, you whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” he asked in hushed tone like you.

“Because I’m scared,” you answered. Nanami kissed the side of your head. You felt yourself relax.

“Let’s do it together,” he said. You nodded and held the wireless mouse. His hand covered yours and you moved the cursor to purchase your results. The two of you read through the words. Nanami would scroll for you until the results were shown.

Pass.

Your body froze. Your heart stopped. You had a shut down. Nanami felt your whole body freeze before he could say anything. With shaking hands, you held and squeezed his hand.

“I DID IT! KENTO-KUN I PASSED! I PASSED! I PASSED!” You jumped out of the couch and pulled him up from the couch and jumped while holding both of his hands. “I’M DONE! I PASSED! I DID IT!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. Nanami picked you up by the waist and you wrapped your legs around his. When the two of you pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other.

“I never doubted you one bit, my love,” he said softly. “Congratulations, my beautiful and brilliant nurse.”

“I want to celebrate,” you said. “A quick celebration since you have work in the morning. Actually no. I can wait until—“ Nanami stopped you with his kiss.

“Where does the love of my life want to go and celebrate tonight?” You couldn’t help but laugh with pure excitement and joy as you hugged him tightly.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

MAY-U - Turgon x Caranthir

AH @elentarial, my friend! Have some cheeky Turgon for your nerves!

It was such a blast to write these two again! Thank you very much for submitting them! <3

Characters: Turgon x Caranthir

Prompts: Blind Date - Librarian - That's now how you talk to someone

Words: 2 200

Warnings: /

“No, Moryo, absolutely not,” Maglor spat, leaning suavely against the worn frame as if the half-closed door, obscuring the bigger part of his face, did not in the least disturb him. “You’re going on a date, not to a funeral!”

Grabbing the first item he could lay his hands on, a cherished book about ancient economies, Caranthir let his arm snap back to fling his unusual missile at the unwelcome intruder.

“Oi, I’m merely trying to help you! Nelyo has worked so hard for this,” Maglor lamented, lifting his skilful, pale hands in mock defeat while letting his unfairly handsome face melt into the doleful mien of one unjustly accused of a heinous crime.

“As if,” Caranthir grumbled bitterly. Nevertheless, he started undoing the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on his shirt again. He’d quite liked the way the colour—a red so rich and dark it looked almost black—had complimented his complexion, but he had to admit that Maglor was much more stylish than him.

He had no other choice but to believe the mouthy fool!

“I think you should wear Curvo’s green shirt,” Maglor went on. “I just so happen to have it here.”

Cocking one eyebrow, Caranthir leaned back slightly. His younger brother was not known for letting anyone borrow his clothes without kicking up a fuss and starting a fight—hence, Maglor must have shamelessly stolen the garment from under the little one’s upturned nose.

“Tyelko’s and Nelyo’s wouldn’t fit you,” Maglor explained. “And you’ve told me one too many times how much you loathe my, if I may say so myself, impeccable and editorial style.”

“What’s wrong with my own clothes?” Caranthir muttered petulantly.

“They’re ugly. We all believe you’re doing it on purpose too! Even Námo wouldn’t be caught dead in those rags…caught dead, get it?”

Slapping his thigh, Maglor tossed his loot across the room with surprising accuracy. “Don’t let Curvo see you in it. And wear the tight pants mom bought for you last Yule!”

Caranthir grimaced—he hated those trousers with a burning passion. They made his legs look pathetically spindly and revealed his deplorable lack of a well-rounded, bouncy behind to anyone with even just a single involuntarily straying eye.

“Someone is waiting to meet you,” Maglor grinned. “Do you not owe it to them to at least pretend you’re somewhat of a catch?”

“Káno, stop antagonising him!”

Their oldest brother appeared, as ever surrounded by a halo of red hair and dignified impatience. “You look nice, Moryo. Wear the Yule-pants! And comb your hair properly!”

“This is ludicrous!” Turgon grunted as he was tempted to brace his feet against the wall to tear at the door with his whole body weight like some ridiculous character in an animated TV show for children. “Let me out, you idiot!”

“Say you’ll go on the date that I organised for you because I love you!��� Fingon screamed through the door. He was stronger than he looked, and—unbeknownst to Turgon—he’d roped their sister into helping him keep the door closed despite their brother’s valiant efforts.

Ever since a rather unfortunate accident involving Argon, the cellar door, and about a dozen firefighters, there were no key left in any lock in their house, and manoeuvres such as the one they were enmeshed in at the present moment had to be fought out by strength and stamina alone.

“Fine,” Turgon finally relented. “I’ll go, but you and that wicked vixen of a sister shall do my laundry for two weeks.”

He’d known that it had been a mistake to leave his clean, orderly flat to come to the cesspit of chaos and destruction that was his family home, but his beloved older brother had invited him, and he’d felt compelled to spend some time with his siblings.

After all, they were constantly whining that they never got to see him.

“A blind date! This is real life, not a romantic comedy!” he grumbled as he swept past his giggling siblings to find something appropriate to wear.

“You can’t tell me that you spend all your time at work in the aisle of the encyclopaedias, Turno,” Fingon chirped. “We all know you’re lonely. As your brother who, it bears repeating, loves you, I’ve unbent the earth to secure this prime candidate for you.”

“Pah! We shall see!” Once more, Turgon was woefully certain that he was walking right into a trap, but—where his family was concerned—he couldn’t help trying to keep them happy and safe, and so he took his woollen coat off the hanger and went off to his date as one rode into battle: grim and determined not to fail.

Pacing up and down the street in which the small, cosy restaurant lay, Caranthir wondered for the seventeenth time whether he should not simply sneak away.

He could simply go to a dark pub and wait a few hours before returning to his familial home with an elaborate lie about where he’d been and what he’d done.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t sure how truthful Maglor’s depiction of their brother’s involvement was—if Nelyo had indeed set up this charmingly casual meeting in a tasteful ambience, there was a distinct chance that he’d also be made aware of Caranthir’s notable absence.

Thus, he traipsed across wetly shining cobbles aimlessly until a deep, full voice resounded behind him, hailing someone—as there was nobody in sight but him, Caranthir correctly deduced that he was the one being addressed in so gruff a manner.

“Hey you! Have you been set up by well-intentioned but ultimately clueless loved ones?”

Whirling around, Caranthir felt his eyes widen as they travelled along a tall, athletic frame that ended in a sharp-featured, alluringly stern face.

“My brothers have coerced me,” he admitted, drawing closer automatically. “They’re convinced that I’ll be eaten by a horde of cats I don’t even have…”

“Ah,” the stranger chuckled knowingly. “Believe it or not—the fate they project for you would be kinder than the one my siblings are painting for my own sorry self. If their teary-eyed prophecies are to be believed, I shall be buried under an avalanche of books that will slowly grind my bones to dust as I decay, ruining the tomes and leaving my family heartbroken.”

“Do you have that many books at least?” Caranthir inquired, feeling oddly captivated by the rich timbre of the stranger’s voice which made him think of spiced hot chocolate and warm plaids on a cold winter’s night.

“I’m a librarian,” the other replied quietly. “Not the most exciting job—hence why Fingon, my oldest brother, thought that I needed an intervention. My name is Turgon, by the way.” “Fingon,” Caranthir repeated slowly, letting the name melt on his tongue. “He does not, by any chance, step out with a tall, lanky ginger?”

“Maedhros, The Beautiful? Why, yes? My brother is obsessed with that man,” Turgon answered without hesitation or false sense of coyness.

“Oh, that blasted liar! I’ll cut the strings of his favourite harp!” Caranthir cursed under his breath. So much for the heroic effort his brother had made on his behalf—he’d simply stuck his head, and possibly other body parts, together with his accursed boyfriend to get their respective boorish brother to agree to a blind date!

“I take it you know the red-haired Wunderkind?” Turgon asked sharply and held open the door.

Without really having noticed that they’d been moving while talking, Caranthir found himself stepping into the fragrant warmth of the restaurant.

“He’s my oldest brother. Not that anyone would believe that, what with him being so handsome and all…”

“Hey! That’s not how you talk to someone—not even yourself. I have no trouble believing that you’re related!” Turgon interrupted cuttingly. “The freckles and fierce look are a dead giveaway!”

Caranthir’s mouth opened and closed a few times without emitting more than a choking wheeze so shocked was he by the matter-of-fact compliment. He’d never been the kind of person to attract much gratuitous flattery, and so he didn’t quite know how to react properly, especially because Turgon’s eyes were confusingly clear and steady as if he’d not just said the single most gratifying thing Caranthir had ever heard.

“So, what is it you do?” Turgon questioned calmly as they were led to a little alcove in the back of the establishment by a discreet, soft-spoken waitress. “Just so I know how much I have to cut back on the ‘boring’ discussions.”

Blinking owlishly, Caranthir had to admit, if only to himself, that it was easy to see similarities between his brother’s sparkling paramour and the dignified but kind beauty sliding into a chair opposite him with perfect grace.

“I’m an accountant,” he croaked. “By all means, tell me about lists and tabulations.”

“Oh, I see why they thought this would be funny,” Turgon grimaced. “If my sister is to be believed, I’m boorish, headstrong, and deplorably tedious in all I say and do.”

“That was not my impression thus far,” Caranthir contradicted diplomatically. “Also, you wouldn’t even want to hear how my brothers describe me.”

“Shy, wicked smart, and as irascible as sensitive,” Turgon shot back without batting an eye. “At least, that is what I seem to recall from the most awkward dinner I’ve ever had to sit through.”

“Oh no,” Caranthir whispered in a long, sighing exhalation. “Nelyo and Káno are the charming ones, in general. You’ve not experienced true awkwardness until you’ve been to one of our family dinners.”

“Is that an invitation?” Turgon grinned. He turned to take the menus the waitress was holding out to them, giving her a grateful smile, and set them down at once without so much as looking at them.

“I didn’t have much faith in this endeavour, but I do not seek to purposefully, petulantly—as my siblings would say—sabotage it. So no, please don’t come to dinner with my six brothers and mad parents!”

“Fingon loves them,” Turgon commented softly. “He speaks very fondly of all of you. Either way, do you feel like proving our siblings wrong…Should we be adventurous?”

He spoke that word as if it was a naughty concept, and Caranthir couldn’t help the surge of frantic, electrifying energy pulsing through his every fibre and driving heat into his face.

“Yes,” he hummed even as his heart started pounding wildly in anticipation.

Turgon struggled to control the uncomely frown of concentration that threatened to overtake his brow; his eyes burned fiercely, and he regretted having given in to vanity and exchanged his glasses for contact lenses.

Why had his face chosen this exact moment to betray him? The corners of his mouth twitched as a soppy smile tried to claw itself to the surface, and his forehead quivered as he attempted to recall every tiny fragment of information about the charming stranger sitting across the table.

Surely, the disgustingly amorous idiots dancing through his parents’ house must have said more about one so extraordinary as Caranthir. Why couldn’t he remember?

Fingon might have had a point after all when he’d accused Turgon of never even listening to anything he said.

His future brother-in-law called him “Moryo”, but every time Turgon’s watery eyes returned to that narrow, beauteous face, all he could see was light.

Not only was this unexpected treasure a sight to behold, but Caranthir was indeed ruthlessly smart. He followed Turgon’s rather theoretical tangent about filing systems effortlessly, interjecting witty comments and clever jibes at all the right moments.

Moreover, he’d instantly agreed to let their waitress compile a tasting menu for them, so—despite his reassuring gravitas and reticent demeanour, he was not as risk-averse as everybody believed and claimed.

In a word, against all odds and despite his own scepticism, Turgon had to concede that his jolly, often frivolous brother had managed to conjure up the man of his dreams.

Maybe, the sullen librarian now mused, he could have spared himself the stress and indignity of this whole ordeal if he’d just been more open to Fingon’s invitations to accompany him to various events that had been attended by not only Maedhros but also his mysterious brothers.

The selection of dessert miniatures was served much too soon, and Turgon glared vindictively at the old clock hanging on a crooked wall. Where had the time gone?

“You don’t have to stay,” Caranthir said sharply, following his gaze. “I think we’ve played the game long enough for them to be satisfied with our effort. I’d totally understand!”

“I don’t live at home,” Turgon replied distractedly. “They don’t expect me back anyway. How much mischievousness have you left in the tank?”

“Years of it,” Caranthir gave back immediately, his voice ringing with conviction and renewed enthusiasm.

“Wouldn’t it be a lovely revenge on our meddling siblings if you wouldn’t go home either?”

“And where am I to hide?”

“I know a place. If you’re not too tired, that is.”

The intense darkness—hell fire and heavenly abyss—of Caranthir’s eyes seemed to swirl like galaxies trapped in finest crystal as he cocked his head curiously.

“Lead the way, handsome stranger,” he said resolutely. “I shall follow you anywhere!”

↬ Masterlist

Thank you so much for joining me on this new adventure.

@fellowshipofthefics here's the next one for May!

Lots of love from me!

[david-tennant-wearing-things]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES A THIRD ONE AND THERE ARE BARELY ANY PICTURES OF IT

[dudefrommywesterns]

i love this cute boy and his cute but strange outfit

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water (Pt. I)

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?

pt.II

art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)

warning: 18+ content

“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.

A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.

“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.

“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.

You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.

You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.

“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.

“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.

Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.

“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.

You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.

“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.

“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.

“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.

His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.

Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.

“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button

“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.

“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.

“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.

“hm” You nod and press the button.

“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.

You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.

The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.

About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.

Staring at you.

His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.

“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.

“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.

“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”

He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.

His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.

“…what. the. fuck.”