#look they call the shots i just work here

[dmitriene]

just thinking about retired!price meeting reader in the supermarket; her trying to reach the top shelf of marmalades and him catching a vase before it shatters and causes a mess.

several outdated pick-up lines and nervous scratches and tugs on the back of his boonie hat later, and barely contained chuckles from you, he asks you on a date. and it ends up being the best you've had in ages.

idk i just feel price hasn't flirted with anyone IN AGES, so he's reaallly out of practice, but the flush you try to hide with the back of your hand proves he's moving in the right direction. soon, he'll have your knees touching your chest or smth.

author's note: hi baby @feralforfrank!! your idea is so wonderful and i'm so happy to provide it to you in writing, except it's ended up being a one shot instead of drabble, i still hope i did it good!

you didn't think that your best date and at the same time acquaintance in life would be tied to such an embarrassing, funny situation, which maybe could become your ticket to the hospital, if not the charming man you met.

the week was nearing the end, and it was that time to which the need for a trip to the grocery shop was added to fill the fridge, which stood dullly and empty at home in the kitchen, so with an almost fully filled basket of groceries, you were currently reaching for the highest shelf with sweets in the shop.

an easy task, it would seem, if you didn't have to reach on tiptoes to a small pack of marmalades, bordering with the shelf on which household goods began, and there was a small vase that hurried to fall down when you accidentally hooked it with your elbow, immediately turning to freeze in place, looking how it was falling on you.

— “bloody hell, that' was almost' a goal to the hospital, yau alright' ther', darling?„ a rumbling, smoky voice, whose owner pulled you out of your little fright, making you blink quickly, lifting your head further to focus on the tall, bulky man carefully holding the vase that almost shattered on your head in his thick hands, the look in his vivid blue eyes worried, thick brown brows furrowed.

you nod stupidly, silent like a mouse, while your hand automatically takes the package of marmalades that you grabbed and press to your chest, the gears begin to work in your head with a creak, noticing how timely and quickly the man was near you and lend a helping hand, worthy of gratitude.

— “y.. yeah, thank you, sir, you were here at the right time„ you say a little meekly, a little shyly by what happened, but you notice how your words make him smile, making his eyes to crinkle, his mutton chops stretching along the corners of his lips, chest puffing behind a halfly zipped jacket with hoarse chuckle.

— “military instincts, i suppos'„ he answers briefly, turns away to put the vase back on the shelf, wide biceps flexing before he turns back to you, the same warm smile on his lips, but this time he reaches out a wide palm in your direction and adjusts the silly beige boonie hat on his head — “glad to know yau're fin' darling, call me john„

you accept the outstretched hand and smile charmingly, radiantly, uttering your name in response fleetingly, not noticing how his thumb fleetingly strokes your fragile hand and how he looks at you with a slight tilt of his head, when you purr even more shyly — “thank you for your service, sir — john..„ fluttering your eyelashes, john's smile becoming even wider.

— “no longuh, retired, but' i'll tak' that' to heart', luv'„ he murmurs warmly, and only now all the affectionate nicknames he was calling you past minutes catch up to you, burning flush creeping up your cheeks when you just nod, gazing at the way his cerulean eyes churn with something fiery, john's neck flushing fleetingly as he notices how long he's holding your hand in his, before letting go, yet not with another word in.

— “think i can manag' to invit' yau somewher' this evening?„ he asks so simply that you feel your palms start sweating and your face burns, stomach twisting slightly, what are considered as butterflies, and what makes you bite your lip, looking at him now only from under your fluttering eyelashes before agreeing hushedly, still more than shy — “yes, yes i do„

and you do pretty much, because when you practically flutter out of the store with his phone number in yours, there's only one picture that repeats in your head, how uncertainly john scratches the back of his head and says in half fascinated, half surprised deep voice — “hop' yau will be frei, then, sei ya, darling„

you don't remember how it all ended with current events, but you remember how it all began — a meeting in a small evening pub with good alcohol and john's company, dressed almost the same as in the morning in the shop, but this time without a boonie hat and with his jacket folded next to him, every bulging muscle and a bit of a fat hugged tightly by black shirt.

you remember the way john talked, low timbre of his hoarse voice that was accompanied by small chuckles, rumbling everytime he told you some situations from life, watching how you covered your giggles behind the palm of your hand, carefully listening to each special, exciting story from his service as a captain in the task force.

you watched as he touched you fleetingly, small brushes against your knuckles with the pads of his calloused fingers, leaving a burning feeling, something coiling in your stomach — with john's touches becoming bolder, and drinks more bitter, but there's a stroking motion against your knee that soothes and also makes you fidget.

by the time he moved closer, closing the distance between the table and sharing one leather sofa with you, all the cocktails you tried were boiling in your blood, your lips tingled from close contact with john's, as he purred something in your ear, stroking your supple thigh, to which you just nodded with barely contained giggles, catching only the edge of his words — “let' me show yau a good tim', doll„

that's how you ended up stuck beneath him, the unfamiliar bed smelled hardly of musk and light echoes of tobacco, the once clean sheets clung to your soaked back, just as wet as your squelching pussy, the one that is currently being pumped full of john's fat cock, your supple legs pressed against your chest, and you don't even feel them.

the only thing you feel is his harsh thrusts, rearranging your gooey insides as he molds your gummy walls in the shape of his thick cock, his one hand alone is enough to keep your legs pressed to your chest, while the free one is busy with cupping your cheek, watching the way your eyes threaten to roll back in your empty skull.

— “fuck, such a pretty fucking girl, knew i — it when i saw yau„ john almost growls, his voice a dull ring in your ears when his wide hips snap forward rapidly, muscular thighs slapping against your rounded ass that jiggles with each time his cock plunges deeper inside your slimy cunt, leaking tip presses against your spongy spot, and you howl.

yet, not uttering a word, tongue heavy inside your gradually drying mouth, the one john licks inside his own with fervor, you barely have time to respond to his movements, your nails digging into his back, inflicting fresh scratches on top of old scars, while you moan and practically wheeze with pleasure under him, pussy pulsing with gushing slick.

your brain screams that it's too much, but your lips part with slurred pleas of — “more, s — so close, harder, hmnn, p — please„ and john hushed you, cooes something warm and soothing against your ear, beard tickling somewhere against your thudding pulse where he sucks and bites constellations of marks, and you don't even register how you snap.

don't remember in which exactly moment your pulsing cunt clenched around his weeping cock, squeezing him for every drop his fat tip splashed against your walls, painting them with thick milky cum, his body still moving to drill you further into the mattress, into the wet sheets, when all you do is tremble, cumming uncontrollably with sobs and gurgles of moans.

that's the moment when everything cuts, and the next time your eyes flutter open, despite the ache and soreness in your body, john sits on the edge of the bed with a cup of tea in his hands, carefully stretched out in your direction as you lift yourself up, letting the dim morning sun illuminate your naked body in all it's glory, a pleased murmur is what greets you — “good morning, sweitheart'„

and it's is, a best morning in your entire life.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [20] - Nightclub

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Business deals are open to negotiation.  

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself, scratching at Alpine’s head with one hand while holding your phone with the other, your eyes skimming the lines. “Seriously…”

Bucky sipped his coffee. “Care to share with the class, Charm?”

You heaved a sigh and shot him a look, holding up the phone so that he could see the screen.

“Clint leaves the city for a couple of days and HYDRA immediately attacks his territory?” you asked and Bucky hummed.

“I mean he had his people covering it,” he said. “Just because he wasn’t here, doesn’t mean it was open to any attack.”

“Which makes it worse,” you told him with a sigh, then reached out for the jar of peanut butter to dip a spoon into it. “How many sources do these guys have?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers through Alpine’s soft fur as she meowed at him. “You’re coming to the club tonight, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Your phone buzzed in your hand and you took a look at the notification, then licked your lips.

“Buck.”

“Hm?”

“So you know how our therapist said open communication is very important?”

“I don’t trust the therapist.”

“Shocking,” you deadpanned. “Anyway, I’m meeting Ethan today for lunch.”

Bucky let out a groan before he threw his head back. “Charm…”

“This is me openly communicating.”

“This is you throwing a knife at me and calling it communication,” Bucky corrected you, making your jaw drop.

“It’s not!”

“I will ask this question once again; why are you meeting your ex who wants to fuck you?”

“That’s not—I know the idea isn’t familiar to you, but some people can be friends with their exes.”

“So it’d be fine if I met up with one of my exes for lunch?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders, trying to ignore the unpleasant flip your stomach did.

“If you can find an ex who doesn’t want to kill you?” you said. “Go ahead.”

He scoffed. “Not all of them hate me.”

“Is the ex who doesn’t hate you in the room with us right now?” you asked back and he made a face.

“I don’t know who fed you those lies, I’m guessing Becca—”

“Becca is very objective when it comes to your exes,” you pointed out. “And how terrible you are in relationships.”

“I’m not terrible in relationships.”

“Did you stay friends with any of your exes?”

“Yeah!”

“Give me a name.”

He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat. “…Dot.”

“Dot hates your guts, Buck.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know she dumped you,” you said and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“It was a mutual decision.”

“It really wasn’t,” you said. “You do realize that I’ve been best friends with your sister since I was in kindergarten? I know everything about your terrible relationships.”

“To repeat, they’re not—don’t change the subject,” he said as you sipped your coffee. “Your ex?”

“My ex does not want to kill me like your exes or fuck me like you seem to think.”

“Oh he wants to marry you then?” he asked and even though you knew he was being sarcastic, your stomach did a flip. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I beat him to it.”

You clicked your tongue as you dipped your spoon in the peanut butter jar again.

“As much as I enjoy you referring to me like I’m the last piece of cake,” you deadpanned. “I will make sure both your dick and you regret it the next time you do that.”

He blinked a couple of times and you gave him a bright grin, then popped the spoon into your mouth, then pulled it out to point at him with it.

“See?” you asked him. “Open communication. Therapy works wonderfully for this relationship.”

                                                  *

“Tell me I didn’t make you wait for long,” Ethan said as he rushed into the café and you let out a laugh, then stood up to kiss his cheek.

“I just got here, no worries,” you said. “Ordered your coffee though.”

“You know my coffee order?”

“Yeah,” you said and made a face at him. “Terrible order but yeah. Burned into my mind.”

That made him smile as he sat down.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was going to come sooner but—”

“Let me guess, your boss?”

“One of these days, that man will get in an accident that I’ve been hoping and praying for,” he told you, making you laugh.

“That’s doable,” you said. “I told you before.”

He heaved a sigh. “Stop. Right now, I feel like taking you up on that offer.”

“You can.”

He frowned, then shook his head.

“No no,” he said. “I’ve watched too many movies about this.”

“I’m not going to put a horse head in your bed, Ethan.”

“No, not that!” he said, letting out a chuckle. “Power corrupts.”

You shrugged again. “Nah it doesn’t.”

“It would corrupt me,” he told you as the waitress brought your coffees. “How about you? How’s uh…how’s marriage?”

Your eyes snapped to his and you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat.

“Ethan, if it’s going to lead to yet another—”

“It won’t,” he cut you off and offered you a small smile. “Don’t worry. I got the message.”

A silence fell upon you. You could feel your stomach doing a flip at the implication of what he had said and even though you actually wanted to talk about it, you knew you couldn’t.

Now to think of it…

You weren’t sure if you could even get together with him after your divorce. The idea was tempting yes, but you weren’t sure he could handle the life the job brought with it. While you and Bucky could torture an agent of HYDRA and then get takeout afterwards, doing the same wasn’t possible with Ethan and—

Strangely enough, you found yourself wondering whether you could still do it with Bucky after you two would get a divorce.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you cleared your throat, then smiled at him.

“Sorry,” you said. “Blanked out for a second. You were saying?”

                                                   *

Opening night of a club, especially if it was in Barnes, Wilson or Rogers territories, was always so much fun that even when you were teenagers, you and Becca would sneak into them, most of the time to get caught by Steve. Now that you were a grown up, you still enjoyed them but you also knew what was happening in the background.

It was the perfect time to make deals.

The crowd, the music, the alcohol, it all served its purpose to make better deals without getting the weapons or threats involved. Not to mention, getting invited to the opening night showed respect to whoever was a part of any negotiation.

You took a sip of your drink and leaned back on the sofa, keeping your eyes on Mr. Clifford. He was one of the new players in town, but powerful enough to be invited to your -well, Bucky’s- VIP booth tonight. If this deal worked, he could make the shipments to your territory much smoother but the problem was, neither you nor Bucky could decide whether you could trust him or not.

He had good references, but he was still sort of a mystery.

“I wasn’t aware you would be here as well, Mrs. Barnes,” Mr. Clifford said. “So the word on the street is true?”

“What word?” you asked and he smiled.

“That you’re…not just a guest?”

Bucky raised his brows and shot you a small grin while you shrugged your shoulders.

“No, I’m not.”

“She’s the only one I trust,” Bucky said and you smirked, reaching out to hold his hand. Mr. Clifford nodded.

“I see,” he said. “And um—if you don’t mind me ask, will it affect any deals I may make with your father?”

“You will have to ask my father that,” you said. “I hear he’s not open to any new deals but you can try your chances.”

He hummed. “And his heir, Ian?”

Your jaw clenched but you managed to keep your expression flat while Bucky squeezed your hand as if trying to assure you.

“Ian hasn’t been named yet,” he said. “And either way, if you’re making deals with heirs, I may have to rethink my decision to do business with you. Are you that much of an amateur?”

“Bucky.”

“No, I’m not going to do business with him if he’s making deals with people who can’t sit at the grown-ups table.” 

“I assure you, that’s not the case,” Mr. Clifford said. “I was just voicing my curiosity, that’s all.”

You downed your drink and leaned in to whisper into Bucky’s ear.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Don’t shoot him?”

“No promises,” he murmured and you tried to bite back your smile, then grabbed your purse and stood up to make your way through the dance floor to the bathroom. When you stepped out again, your eyes fell upon Ryan who was by the bar and you smiled to yourself, then approached the bar as well.

“I think you’re the only person who drinks water at a club opening,” you said, making him turn his head and he blinked a couple of times as if he was surprised to see you, then looked down at the glass in his hand.

“Ma’am,” he said, taking a sip of his water and you tilted your head.

“Let me guess,” you said. “Ian told you to be completely sober just in case?”

“It’s my idea, ma’am.”

“Where’s he?”

“In the VIP room there,” he motioned at the closest room and you pulled your brows together.

“And he sent you away?”

Ryan sipped his water in silence and you heaved a sigh.

“Does he know that keeping his right arm out of deals is a terrible idea?”

“I’m just his bodyguard ma’am, nothing more.”

You pursed your lips together and cleared your throat.

“You might as well dance with someone, you know,” you joked. “If he’s going to be there alone, no need for you to get bored.”

The look of complete terror on his face at the suggestion was almost funny. He was a huge guy, and you were pretty sure he could crush someone’s skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he looked absolutely terrified at the idea of dancing with someone at the club.

“I’m a great wing-woman,” you told him, making him blink a couple of times. “Anyone caught your attention?”

“Ma’am I—I wouldn’t—” he stammered and you waved a hand in the air.

“And how many times should I tell you to call me Y/N?” you asked and he licked his lips, staring at you.

“I don’t mean disrespect.”

“I don’t think it’s disrespect,” you told him and out of the corner of your eye, you saw the waiter leaving your VIP room mutter something at one of Clifford’s bodyguards by the door before walking away. You frowned.

“Excuse me,” you said as you made your way to the fire exit the waiter walked into. You looked over your shoulder and pulled the small pistol out of your purse, then pushed open the door quietly to step into the hallway.

The waiter was too busy to notice your presence as he pulled a gun out of the cleaning bucket in front of him, but he froze when he heard the sound of you cocking the gun.

“Hi,” you said and he gritted his teeth, raising his hands. “Put the gun down.”

He slowly put the gun down and you smiled.

“There you go,” you said. “Good boy.”

“What are you doing?” he asked as he turned to you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I’m trying to enjoy my night to be honest but…”

“Just walk away.”

You scoffed.

“Right,” you said. “That’s gonna happen.”

“If you walk away now, you’ll benefit from it,” he said. “Mr. Clifford says if Barnes dies, you could take over his territory, his business. It’ll be your right.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Well yeah but also if Bucky dies, I’ll have to wear black and I can’t really pull off black dresses,” you said. “Becca says it has something to do with my undertone—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he lunged to throw a punch at you but you caught his hand and twisted it, making him cry out in pain. You headbutted him right in the nose, hearing the crack of the bone before you grabbed the bigger pistol on the floor to slam it against his head, causing him to drop to the floor unconscious.

“This night is getting more and more fun,” you murmured as you shook your head, then pushed your pistol back into your purse. You made your way to the door again to open it, then approached Ryan to tap him on the shoulder.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” you asked and turned around without waiting for him to answer, but he followed you anyway until you got to the hallway and opened the door. Ryan grabbed his gun from his waistband the moment he saw the unconscious guy lying on the floor, then turned to you.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, stepping into the hallway with his gun ready, checking for any threats. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not at all,” you said. “Keep an eye on him until I get back.”

His back straightened immediately like he was a soldier and you were his commander. “Yes ma’am.”

“And if Ian says anything,” you said. “This happened in Barnes territory, he’s our hostage. No one else’s.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head and took a step to the door, then turned around.

“And thank you, Ryan,” you said, making him pull his brows together in confusion as if he wasn’t used to hearing it. “I appreciate it.”

He swallowed thickly, then nodded.

“Ma’am,” he said and you pushed open the door, then made your way to the VIP room Bucky was in.

“As I was saying, our price isn’t…” Clifford stopped talking when he saw you walk inside. “Ah Mrs. Barnes, welcome back.”

You shot him a fake smile, then leaned in closer to Bucky so that you could whisper into his ear.

“He’s trying to kill you.”

Bucky’s gaze snapped to yours when you pulled back and he heaved a sigh as if he was exhausted, then ran a hand over his eyes.

“Great,” he muttered. “Do you want to stay and watch, sweetheart?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“I got one of his men, I’ll be by the fire exit,” you murmured. “Come there when you’re done?”

“Sure thing.”

“What’s going on?” Clifford asked and you turned to shoot him a glare before pecking Bucky on the cheek.

“Have fun!”

“I will,” Bucky said and motioned at one of the bodyguards. “Paul, escort my wife to where she’s going.”

“Yes Mr. Barnes.”

“And Hannah,” Bucky’s voice was completely calm. “Lock the room down.”

“Mr. Barnes, please—” Clifford’s voice was cut off when the door shut behind you and Bucky’s bodyguards started dragging Clifford’s men away while you turned to Paul with a sigh.

“How fucking rude, right?”

“Ma’am?”

“I mean honestly…” you muttered while you walked to the fire exit with Paul following you. “Sending an amateur to kill him? People today have no manners.”

[kryptonitejelly]

Grease & Tequila - a Flyboy One-shot

Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader - part of the Flyboy!Universe

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers

Warnings:  general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; alcohol; being drunk.

Length: One-shot

Summary: Set 5 months pre the Flyboy!era. The one where Jake gets the call that you and Dan have broken up and he has to be on the next plane to New York, now.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(not fully updated as of today, but if you follow / search the tag “flyboy universe” / “flyboy” / “flyboy fic” / “flyboy!jake” on my tumblr you’ll find recent asks / headcannons / blurbs!)

A/N: It’s been a while, and this isn’t all that exciting, but I think it definitely (I hope) sets the scene for Flyboy and helps everything click into place.

DISCLAIMER: all work posted here is purely fanfiction; it does not in any way purport to be an accurate representation of real life or the general workings of any institution.

“Lieutenant,” Admiral Craig’s voice booms out as Jake opens the door to his office. The Admiral waits for Jake to shut the door completely before he starts up again, “I got your last minute absence request.”

“That is correct, Sir,” Jake nods, as he comes to a stand in front of the Admiral’s desk. He stands with his feet hip width apart, hands behind his back, eyes meeting the older man’s.

“Everything okay?” The Admiral asks, his gaze steady on Jake’s. It was rare for a last minute absence request to come across his desk, which meant that when they did - it was usually pressing.

“Just something I need to attend to, Sir.” Jake responds, his mask not slipping, but the Admiral hears the weight behind his words. There is a silence pause between the two men, before the Admiral picks up his pen, signing the bottom of the two sheets of paper before him with a flourish. He was never one to refuse these requests as long as he deemed them legitimate, but he made it a point of looking the requestor in the eye to make his own assessment of the situation before approving them. He didn’t need to know the why, unless it was volunteered by the requestor him/herself, but he needed to know that it wasn’t being abused and Jake Seresin, for all his ego and cockiness, was a dedicated solider. He wouldn’t ask, unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Approved,” the Admiral says simply before passing one of the sheets to Jake. Jake’s mask doesn’t crack, but the Admiral sees a twitch of relief as Jake remembers how to breathe, “Godspeed.”

“Thank you Sir.”

-

Jake shifts irritably in his seat as he waits for boarding to be complete. He had reached out to Grandma Doris’ personal assistant once he had gotten off the phone with you, even before he had submitted his flight request, his text to her was just one sentence, twelve words long - I need to be on the next flight to New York, please. He usually would not have bothered her, but this - this was a pressing situation, he just had to get on that plane. She had, the blessing that she was, gotten hold of two flight options for him, the next flight to New York, and the next next as a backup, both in first class no less, with a simple request to let her know when he needed a flight ticket back from New York.

“May I offer you a hot towel, Mr Seresin?” The stewardess stops beside his seat. Jake shakes his head, offering her a polite half smile.

“No thank you.”

“How about some nuts, or maybe a drink?” She tries again.

“How long more do you think it’ll be till take-off?” Jake’s question is abrupt and she is quiet for a second, slightly taken a back. He isn’t rude, but is, obviously antsy.

“I think another twenty minutes Mr Seresin,” she says as she follows his gaze out of the window.

“Thanks,” is all she gets from Jake as he continues to stare out of the window beside him as if willing take-off to come faster.

-

“Anything else?” The cashier of the fried chicken shop just around the corner from your apartment building asks Jake as he rings up the total on the till.

“That’s all, thanks.” Jake says as he slides his card out of his wallet before tapping it against the screen of the payment machine which is proffered to him.

“Here’s your receipt, please wait on the right.” Jake slides his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans before stepping towards the right. The tequila which he had picked up on his way out of the airport is in his backpack, the shape of the bottle pressed against his back, a reminder that he was just that much closer to what he came to New York for.

-

The ride up the elevators to your apartment is excruciatingly slow, and Jake taps his foot against the ground the whole way up. He hadn’t had to buzz you to let him up, managing instead to catch a couple on their way out and slip into the building - something which he made a mental note of in the back of his mind - perhaps it was time to convince you to move to somewhere with a doorman or concierge for increased safety.

The bottle of tequila is now in one of his hands, and the bag of greasy fried chicken and fries in his other - his remedy for your broken heart. Alcohol, fast food, and well, him. His eyes are fixed on the flashing red numbers as if willing the elevator to go faster. It stops with a ding, and Jake all but runs out.

-

He hears you before he sees you, hears faint noises and shuffling, the unlocking of a separate bolt and a lock before you pull open the door an inch to peer out past the safety chain. His eyes meet yours, and sees your eyes, glassy and red rimmed, no doubt from crying meet yours. The doors shuts fully for a second or two as you undo the safety chain before it is pulled open fully.

Jake takes you in the second the open door reveals you - the red tip of your noise, hair on top of your head in a loose, messy up do, body clad in an oversized t shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants and he feels a funny tug in his chest.

“I thought you might need this,” he says as he holds up the items in his hands. You hold his gaze for a second more, and then it happens, the glossiness in your eyes turn into tears which spill over onto your cheeks as you take a step forward, throwing your arms around Jake’s body, burying your face in his chest. Jake hears, but also feels the sobs that wrack your body against his front and he is quite sure that in that moment, the tug in his chest feels like a earth shattering crack.

“I got you,” he says gruffly, bringing both his hands down around you, while still holding onto both items. His words only intensify the sobs coming from you and all Jake can do is draw you closer.

-

“I’ve never liked him,” Jake snorts as he watches you down yet another shot of tequila. You are both sitting around the coffee table in the floor of your living room, greasy chicken and fries demolished, the open bottle of tequila three quarters gone - with more damage having been exacted on the bottle by you than by Jake. Jake isn’t drunk, but he definitely isn’t sober, which means that neither are you.

“He’s an asshole,” you half shout, your words slurring from the alcohol as you let your self sag backwards, leaning against the sofa before you let yourself droop sideways, your head coming to rest on Jake’s shoulder. Jake shifts, moving his arm around you. It allows you to scoot further into his side, your face turning slightly to rest against the side of his chest. You breathe in his scent, the faint smell of soap, laundry detergent and airplane along with his own natural musk, which wraps around you like home, and you feel Jake’s fingers running themselves soothingly along your arm..

“Say the word, I’ll beat him to a pulp,” Jake says, dropping the side of his cheek against the top of your head, his finger squeezing the top of your arm gently. His tone is light, joking almost - but yet not really. Nevertheless, the thought of Dan facing off against Jake makes you chuckle lowly. Dan was no slob himself, he maintained a decent level of fitness - occasional runs, regular visits to the gym, but he might as well have been one compared to Jake. Dan worked out for aesthetics, but next to Jake, who had worked out for functionality all his life, football, the Navy, Dan paled greatly in comparison.

“He’ll never stand a chance,” you say, amused as you close your eyes. Your head has started to get impossibly heavy, your tongue feels thick from the copious amounts of alcohol running through your system, and you let your head rest heavier on Jake’s chest.

“That’s the idea,” is what Jake says and it makes you giggle this time as you sink yourself further into Jake’s hold, seeking out a comforting, physical closeness. Jake can feel yourself pressing into him.

“C’mere,” he mutters, as the arm he has around you tightens. You feel movement, and Jake is reaching across your body, managing to slip an arm under your legs to pull you onto his lap.

“Jake,” your protest is weak because you don’t put up an ounce of a fight, opting instead to shift along with him so that you are comfortably nested on his lap, your ear against his shoulder, tip of your nose just about brushing the side of his neck, “I’m not a child.”

“Mmm,” Jake simply hums in agreement with your words, both his arms coming to form a loose, protective cocoon around you.

You both sit in a comfortable silence, a haze of alcohol enveloping you both. Truth to be told, the break up, the serial cheating - it all hadn’t come as a surprise to you. You had suspected on many occasions, but it had been easier to ignore and live in denial than to face the truth after 3 years of being with the same person. It had broken you for many reasons, and it still hurt like hell to lose a constant presence with which you had spent the past 3 years with, but you weren’t all that sure it had broken your heart, not when your relationship had been fizzling out for a while and you’ve suspected for months.

“He wasn’t good enough for you, you know,” Jake says as he turns his head slightly, managing to plant a half kiss on the side of your temple.

“You say that with every break up,” you laugh dismissively, “that’s what best friends are supposed to say.”

Your words make Jake frown and he moves himself to move you, making you sit up sideways on his lap so that he can look you in the eye. Your are slightly elevated from being seated on his thigh, and you find yourself staring down, holding his gaze. You slide the palms of your hands past his shoulders to steady yourself.

“They were all not good enough for you,” is what he says, unwavering as he holds your gaze. From your sideways position, you can feel one of Jake’s hands sliding around your back, and coming to rest on your waist, and the other coming to rest loosely across your lap.

“Or maybe I wasn’t good enough for them,” you say with a rueful quirk of your lips, letting yourself drown in alcohol induced post break-up self pity. Your words only make Jake’s brows furrow together, a flash of irritating passing through his eyes. It makes him move the arm hanging across your lap up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing the space just below your eye. You let yourself luxuriate in the warm against your cheek, leaning into his hold. You see Jake’s gaze dart from your eyes to your lips, but the fuzziness of your mind doesn’t let you overthink at just how intimate the moment between you both is.

“You are too good for all of them,” is what he says. You see a flash of something in Jake’s eyes, and perhaps if you were sober, it would have been something you could more accurately place, but you can’t.

“I want to go to bed,” you say, your exhaustion suddenly hitting you and you let your eyes close, weight of your head still balancing on Jake’s hand.

“Ok,” is all he says as his thumb continues to move gently across your skin.

“Come with me?” You say, your ask clear, you didn’t want to be alone - it was simple, nothing more, no innuendo and you knew that Jake would understand.

“Ok,” he repeats as he finally drops his arm from your cheek.

-

Jake has a hand behind his head, eyes fixed up on the ceiling of your bedroom. You had fallen asleep the moment your head hit the pillow, no doubt attributable to all the tequila you had ingested, but also a sure sign at just how exhausted you were. He had taken a quick shower, ridding himself of whatever traces of airplane he had left on him, before tugging on the pair of shirt and shorts he had brought along with him and, true to his word - gotten into bed with you. There was no way in hell was he allowing you to wake up alone.

He lets the soft hum of your snores wash over him, and Jake tilts his head down to watch the rise and fall of your body from where it is curled up beside him in a fetal position under the covers. You look at peace, finally - but he can see the sunken skin beneath your eyes, a tell tale sign that not all was well.

“Baby,” he sighs, murmuring to himself, the term of endearment slipping too naturally from his lips, as you shift, your body finding its way a few inches closer to him. He doesn’t hesitate, removing the arm from behind his head to caress the side of your cheek. Your snores stop, turning instead to an sleep exhale of content, and in that moment, it strengthens Jake’s resolve. He feels the gears shift in his brain and chest, feelings that he had kept at bay in the recesses of his mind and heart for months, years, coming to shore. He had spent the past 3 years watching you fumble your way around with Dan, and even more before that with different men that you had dated, but it was enough - fuck that. He was sick of watching them hurt you, breaking your heart when you deserved so, much, more. Jake wasn’t going to let that happen again. The next person you dated was going to be your last, the person you dated, was going to be him.

-

“Text me when you land,” you twist your fingers around, interlocking them with each other as you and Jake stand on the sidewalk outside your apartment, waiting for his car to pull up.

“I will,” he says while watching you twist your fingers together. You weren’t ready for him to leave, and neither was he - ready for himself to leave, but the days since his arrival on Thursday night had blown past, and Sunday had come too soon, “text me whenever you need,” he says as he extends an arm, pulling you sideways into him. His action makes you stumble slightly, and you reach out with a hand, to grab him around his waist.

“I will,” your response is a parrot of his. It had been a great past few days, once you had gotten over the hangover that hit you both, but you harder, on Friday morning. Jake had forced you out of the house for two whole days of everything and nothing - strolls around the city all while forcing you to thread your arm through his, making sure you filled your stomach with an assortment of food, watching bad television together in your apartment. He had filled your space with laughter, familiarity, and physical touch when you needed it most and you weren’t ready for him to leave.

“I’ll miss you,” he says, leaning sideways towards you to brush his lips against the top of your head. Jake lets his lips linger for a second or two, and you let your eyes close - letting yourself be vulnerable, enjoying the moment.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” you voice is soft, small almost, the truth of your words both a happy feeling for Jake, but also a stab to his heart.

“I wish I didn’t have to either,” he says gruffly, removing his lips from the top of your head to pull you into a bone crushing full frontal hug. He could see a car approaching from the end of the road, his time with you dwindling now to just mere seconds, “I’ll see you soon,” he says, a statement, not a question as you cling onto him in similar fashion.

“Soon,” you echo, a promise between you both.

-

“So how long are you leaving your girlfriend for?” The driver asks his question conversationally as he pulls away form the sidewalk. Jake’s gaze lingers on you as he raises a hand to wave goodbye. He sees you offer a lopsided smile and a similar wave of your hand.

“I don’t know,” he admits to the driver without much thought, not bothering to correct him. Jake keeps his gaze trained on you until he is no longer able to.

“Hopefully you’ll see her again soon,” is what the driver continues with conversationally, “she looks crushed that you’re leaving.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” is all Jake can say as he settle back into the seat of the cab, his mind far away, his heart still with you.

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 5]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi get the cameras rolling

a/n: i’ve gotten so many requests for this part so i hope it lives up to y’all’s expectations 😶😶 it’s more of a filler chapter but the next one is going to be so unhinged i can’t wait

word count: 1.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

“Paige, if you’re gonna sit and watch, come sit and watch on the bench!” Geno yelled out, threatening to pull Paige from the scrimmage.

The blonde set her jaw, putting her head down as she sprinted to get back on defense. Today was not her day. She could feel Azzi’s eyes on her as she moved around the court. They’d hadn’t gotten the chance to talk since their kiss yesterday, and Paige wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

Finally, Geno clapped his hands and called for a water break. Paige walked slowly to the bleachers, gasping for air. Rummaging through her backpack, she searched for her water bottle. Realizing she’d left it at home, she cursed, kicking the ground.

“Here.” Azzi materialized from behind her, her blue Hydroflask in her outstretched hand.

Paige looked at her cautiously.

“I didn’t poison it,” Azzi muttered under her breath. “Drink it, babe.”

Paige gratefully accepted the water bottle, taking a long swig before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What’s up with you?” Azzi studied her face. “You’re playing like shit.”

“I’m distracted.”

Azzi wrinkled her nose. “By what?”

Wordlessly, the blonde let her gaze fall to Azzi’s lips, immediately causing her to blush. Paige handed back the water bottle, biting back a smile at how easily ruffled Azzi was.

“Girls! No time for chit chat. Huddle up,” Geno called.

The girls joined the rest of the team as Geno went over what they needed to work on. After they broke, he asked Paige and Azzi to stay.

“My daughter came for practice today,” Geno informed them, nodding to a short, brunette girl who was talking to Nika with a notepad and pen in her hand. “Can you guys get started on her project?”

The girls agreed, and Geno sent them off.

——————

“I was thinking we could start with some candid shots. We can move onto the actual interviews later once we set the atmosphere of the film,” Leo, Geno’s daughter, explained.

Once Paige and Azzi nodded in assent, she smiled gratefully and turned around to start setting up her cameras.

“So, Azzi, I heard you’re a monster at the 3 point line,” Leo called from over her shoulder.

Azzi shrugged. “You could say that,” she responded nonchantly, earning a roll of the eyes from Paige.

“Geno said your shooting mechanics are almost textbook.” Leo grabbed a ball from the floor and tossed it to her. “So let’s get a shot of you helping Paige with her form.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open and her eyebrows shot up. She stuttered for a few seconds before she managed to find her words. “Are you serious? I was the national player of the year last season. I don’t need no lesson on shooting,” she protested vehemently.

“I don’t know, your wrist snap has been looking a little weak recently,” Azzi teased, clearly pleased at her newfound duty of coaching the blonde.

Leo laughed, amused. “Listen, I’m not saying anything about your skill. It’s just some fluff for the film. You know, you two being cute.” She put the strap of the camera around her neck and waved her camera. “Let’s roll.”

Leo positioned Paige at the 3 point line, then motioned for Azzi to come join them. “Just be as normal as possible,” the brunette instructed. “Pretend the camera isn’t there. Flirt, talk, touch however you guys normally would. Let’s give the audience something to see, alright?”

Azzi bit her lip. Her heart was beating in her ears, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t have Leo reporting back to Geno that the two girls who were supposedly dating refused to even touch each other. So she slid her arm around Paige’s shoulder to rest a hand on her elbow.

“Lights, camera, action!” Leo yelled, motioning for them to begin.

“Alright, P, you’re gonna be learning from the best. You ready?” Azzi joked. Thankfully her voice came out lighthearted and relaxed, the opposite of the internal tension she was feeling.

“Show me how it’s done, coach.” Like always, the blonde was all smooth and easy-going.

Azzi dropped a hand to Paige’s waist, gently adjusting her hip positioning. To be fair, Paige already had almost perfect form, but she had to do something for the cameras. With her other hand, she guided Paige’s wrist. The blonde’s back was pressed up entirely against her front, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. It’s because Paige is basically compressing my damn lungs, she thought. Not because every point of contact between our bodies feels electric.

“Just…like…that,” Azzi breathed, and when Paige released the ball, it fell with a perfect swish through the net.

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist, pulling her closer in. “Good job, baby,” she murmured into Paige’s ear. She was surprised by how easy the words came out, and she thanked God for her newly acquired acting skills.

Paige seemed surprise at her confidence too, and she stilled for a second before remembering their roles. She turned around and hung her arms around Azzi’s neck, putting their foreheads together. “It’s easy when I’m learning from the best.”

This time Azzi didn’t have to pretend to smirk. She was never going to let Paige live that down.

“Alright, cut!” Leo yelled. She didn’t even look up, reviewing the footage on her camera with a pleased smile on her face. “That was awesome! You both have such natural chemistry.”

Realizing they were still pressed up against each other, the two stepped back, looking at anywhere but each other.

As Leo set up the shot for the next scene, the dark haired girl poked a finger in Paige’s ribs. “The best, huh?” she snickered.

Paige grabbed her finger and squeezed it aggressively, causing her to yelp. “Shut up right now, Fudd.” She released her finger, and Azzi rubbed it with a frown, glaring at a now amused Paige.

—————

Day one of the shoot for Leo’s film was over, and Azzi slumped her shoulders in relief. It hadn’t been half bad, but she was tired after the long practice and just wanted to go home.

“Azzi Fudd! Where do you think you’re going?”

Azzi halted on her way out of the gym. Turning on her heel, she gave Geno a meek smile. “Home?”

“Your hair’s dry.”

Azzi looked at him with confusion. Geno crossed his arms. “Were you tuning me out during our talk today? Ice baths after practice every other day from now on.”

“Oh,” Azzi started speed walking back towards the recovery room. “I was listening, coach. I just forgot.”

“Uh huh.” Geno grunted, shaking his head as he watched Azzi hurry back.

As soon as she reached the recovery room, she saw Paige smirking at her, already in the ice bath. “You fucker,” Azzi growled, stripping off her clothes. She wanted to get over with the ice bath as soon as possible and go home. “You let me leave with Geno there.”

Paige shrugged. “I can’t save you from Geno every time, Fudd.”

Azzi exhaled sharply as her skin met the freezing water. She closed her eyes as she slowly submerged herself, trying to take deep breaths to prevent herself from hyperventilating. “I hate ice baths,” she said shakily.

“Really? I love them. I had the best bonding moments with my high school team during our ice bath sessions,” Paige recalled fondly, not seeming to be fazed at all from the frigid temperatures.

“What school did you go to?” Azzi asked, deciding now might as well be a time to get to know Paige better. Anything to strengthen their facades.

“Hopkins. I’m from Minnesota.”

Azzi nodded silently, not knowing how to respond.

“What ‘bout you?”

“St John’s. I’m from the DMV.”

Paige raised her eyebrows. “A private school?”

“Yep. Had it all laid out for me. Didn’t even have to try,” the younger girl intoned sarcastically, swishing her hand through the water.

Paige scrunched her nose. “Why do you do that?”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Paige absent-mindedly rubbed an ice cube through her palms. “Put yourself down like that.”

The younger girl wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to preserve her body heat. “I don’t know. You went to public school. I was assuming you’d say something about how going to private school set me up for success or something.”

“No.” Paige’s response was abrupt. “I wouldn’t say that. I know how hard you’ve worked. It wouldn’t be fair for me to attribute it to going to some dumb private school.”

A smile crept onto Azzi’s face. Her instinct was to start teasing Paige about how nice she was being, but she stopped herself, deciding that she didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Thanks, Bueckers.”

Paige nodded, still focused on the piece of ice that was now slowly melting. “You liking UConn so far?”

This was probably the longest time they’d ever had a normal conversation, Azzi thought to herself. And for some weird reason, she didn’t mind. “Yeah. The system here is great. Geno knows his shit.”

“Yeah.” Paige closed her eyes, tipping her head against the side of the tub. “He’s tough, but he’s amazing. You’re gonna learn a lot from him.”

Azzi nibbled her bottom lip. “Are we gonna talk about the kiss?” she suddenly blurted out, not being able to ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

Paige didn’t even move, continuing to breathe evenly though her nose. “No.”

Azzi tipped her head against the tub too, shutting her eyes. “Alright.”

[lesbians4lottienat]

Jealous, Much?

Nat doesn’t appreciate the way Misty looks at her girlfriend. The only problem? Nat hasn’t exactly called you her girlfriend yet.

fem!reader (she/her pronouns used and reader is referred to as a girl), reader is a team assistant like misty, nat is mean to misty because she’s jealous lol

Nat stood on the field, dribbling the ball absentmindedly between her feet. Surprisingly, she was the first to arrive, although it wasn’t much of a surprise to her. She had been doing this for about a week, albeit with ulterior motives. Simply put, she wanted to spend time with you before the rest of the team got there, and she actually had to play. If that meant she had to show up to practice early and, in general, so be it.

However, you were too busy with Misty setting up a water cooler and warm-up equipment for the team. Nat saw Misty say something, causing you to laugh. Misty beamed up at you while Nat gritted her teeth. It probably wasn’t even funny, she thought, but she’s too nice not to laugh.

“What’s up with you?”

Nat startled, snapping her neck in the direction of the voice. Oh. It was Jackie. Of course, the team captain would be there early. Shauna must’ve driven them there.

“Nothin’, just thinking,” Nat said with a roll of her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Jackie’s snooping right now. The brunette raised an eyebrow at this before following Nat’s gaze over to the two girls, now joined by Shauna. She sighed before speaking again.

“I know you’re at least nice to one of them, but you should lighten up on Misty! She’s not…that bad.”

Panic surged in Nat’s stomach before she realized what Jackie meant. She wasn’t accusing Nat of liking you; she was accusing her of finding Misty annoying.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, passing the ball to Jackie, whose brow furrowed in concern at the blonde's lack of bite in her words.

The rest of the team arrived at the soccer field one by one. They performed their usual warm-ups before playing a practice game. The entire time, however, Nat was distracted. She wasn’t performing well, and everyone could tell something was wrong. Hopefully, they didn’t notice that she faltered every time Misty grabbed a hold of your arm or brushed hands with you.

Eventually, Coach Scott pulled her aside and asked if she was alright. She hated how he looked at her and the way they all looked at her. She hated feeling weak.

After a few more easy shots were missed, her coaches and teammates suggested she take a breather. It was annoying. What was even more annoying, though, was the way Misty looked at you—so full of love and adoration. It made Nat sick to her stomach.

“God, Misty, can you keep it in your pants? Some of us are trying to focus here!”

Misty’s face flushed a bright red. Nat huffed at the confused looks before storming off in the direction of the locker room.

She stomped inside, slamming her locker open and pulling her jersey over her head. She began changing into her regular clothes but paused when she heard a familiar voice.

“What the hell was that?”

It was you. Of-fucking-course.

“Why do you even care?” she seethed, refusing to look in your direction. She resumed changing and angrily threw her uniform into the locker.

“Because you confused the hell out of everyone? And because you almost made Misty cry? And because you won’t even look at me?”

Part of her was happy to know she had almost made Misty cry, but the other part swirled hatefully in her gut at the concerned tone of your voice when recounting the event. She hated it. Hated how nice you were to Misty.

There was an awkward pause as Nat gathered her things until, eventually, you spoke again.

“Nat, come on. Talk to me?”

Nat hated you. She hated your stupidly affectionate, concerned voice and how well it worked on her.

“She was clearly flirting with you!”

“…what?”

“What,” she starts, “Were you just going to let her feel you up like that?”

You stared at Nat, utterly confused, before it clicked.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking jealous, Scatorccio?”

Nat’s nostrils flared, and her cheeks flushed. She quickly walked towards you, trapping you in the corner of the room. She glared, opening her mouth to speak, but you promptly cut her off.

“You have no right to be acting like this, you asshole! You don’t even want me!”

…what?

She must’ve verbalized her confusion as you seemingly grew angrier.

“You kiss me at Jackie’s party, then you avoid me for a week. You flirt with me early before everyone gets here, then act like I don’t exist. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t like me like that, but now, you’re acting like I’m taken?”

Nat freezes. She glowers up at you, her lip trembling. You stare back, visibly upset. Then, she pulls on your jacket, smashing her lips against your own. You let out a muffled noise of surprise before kissing back, wrapping your arms around Nat’s neck while Nat’s hands land on your hips.

Eventually, you two pull away, breathless. Nat speaks first.

“You’re mine, okay?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s a terrible way to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

Nat stiffens. She’s…new to this. She’s never really labeled a relationship like this with a girl. But, judging by how it makes her heart flutter, she wouldn’t mind calling you her girlfriend.

“S-sorry,” you stutter, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or, like-“

“Shut up and kiss me.”

[anothermansjeans]

How would youtuber reader react to Spencer getting seriously hurt at work? I'm talking hospital hurt

:(((

cw: mentions of hospitals, spencer gets shot :(, reader is SO worried

wc: 617

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“Where is he?”

Your hair was a mess, you were in sweats with two different shoes on, and you're pretty sure you collected a traffic ticket or two. You didn't care though. Spencer was hurt.

“Y/N!”

You rushed towards Penelope, and any other time you would have minded your tone, but that was the last thing on your mind. “Where is he?” You were panicked– rightfully so.

“He’s still in surgery.”

“Do they know anything?” You didn't mean to raise your voice, especially to Penelope, but you couldn't help yourself.

“He was shot in the abdomen, I’m not sure where exactly, but they're working really hard to make sure everything is okay.”

You pulled at your hair as you fell into the closet seat near you. The team was lingering around, everyone wanting to comfort you, but knew better than to talk to someone in this state of distress.

It was a long wait. Five hours. Spencer would've been able to tell you the exact amount of time. When the doctor finally came out, they had a hopeful look. You didn't want to assume anything, you didn't want to be hurt. They told you he would make a full recovery and that he was lucky, very lucky. One inch to the left and it would've… you don't know, some medical term that scared the shit out of you that you can't seem to remember as you now sit next to his sleeping figure.

You've been there all night, refusing to leave his side. You fell asleep sitting in the crappy hospital chair pulled up by his bed, and it was around 6 a.m the next morning when he finally woke up, letting out a groan that caused you to jump up awake.

“Jesus Christ, Spence.” You got up immediately, and moved around the room to grab the cup of water a nurse left.

“Sorry,” his voice was hoarse, and he was still in the process of opening his eyes.

“Here, drink this.” You gently held the cup for him, allowing him to sip through the straw, “and don't apologize, you got shot, you're in pain. I just need you to heal.” Once he had enough water, you placed it down on the table beside him. “I need to call the nurse.”

“Don't go, please.”

You reached down and squeezed one of his hands, “I will be right back. They need to check your vitals, you know this, Spencer.”

And so you got the nurse, she checked his vitals, and got the doctor in to go over what happened with Spencer. He winced quite a bit at the words they were speaking, and when they finally left, you couldn't help the sob that erupted from your lips.

“Hey, what's wrong?” He turned his head towards you, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

You continued to cry, only able to speak in small intervals. “You–” another sob, “Spencer, you could've–”

You don't even have to finish your thought because Spencer already knew, “I know, I know.” He reached for your hand, and pulled you to sit back down beside him. You slumped over so that your forehead was lightly resting on his shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

You were trying to catch your breath between the sniffles and hiccups, “I just can't imagine– imagine you not here. I love you so much, Spencer.”

He hummed and brought a hand to your head, brushing your hair back. He wanted to say it was a hazard of the job, but he knew better. So, the two of you sat there, listening to the beeping of the machines, feeling lucky enough to be in each other's company.

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat @itsleilabxtch @strabarrybat

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ KISS IT BETTER?

୨୧ cw : tsundre!lee know, a guy being a creep, kissing, fluff, kinda angst, Han is the reader's older cousin, fem!reader, some petnames, overall soft

୨୧ requested : yes

You were practically vibrating with excitement when you got the job as Stray Kids' new manager. Eager to be around your cousin - Han - and hopefully make some money to help put yourself through college.

You made sure everything about you was perfect to greet the boys, although Han would definitely tease you for trying to look your best around him.

And you did look perfect, your hair was curled, your nails were painted a nudeish-pink, you wore your pair of pretty mary-janes, all your best jewelry, your prettiest pink clothes, and did your makeup. You looked stunning, according to your best friend at least.

You looked stunning until a stranger, in a rush, ran into you at full speed, spilling his coffee all over your clothes. Already running 10 minutes late due to traffic you had no choice but to go into the job with coffee-stained clothes.

You looked ridiculous, and Jisung confirmed that when the first thing he did when looking at your disheveled state, was laugh. "Oh my God you look ridiculous! Let me get a photo! I have to send it to halmeoni!" he whipped his phone out when you stumbled into the dance practice room.

Against your will, he got a few good shots of you before you practically jumped on him. You sat on top of him, struggling to snatch his phone out of his grasp. "Get off me you cretin!" he yelped.

You and him wrestled back and forth for a few minutes until you heard the door to the studio open. And in walks the leader of Jisung's group, Chan.

You scurry up to bow to him, while Jisung lays on the floor, "Chan-hyung did you just see that? She jumped me!"

"Did not you fuck face! You were gonna send that photo to grandma!" You squeal.

"I'm sorry what?" Chan questions.

"Chan," Han stands up and motions to you, "my younger cousin, y/n, she's also the new manager."

You bow to Chan again, "ah- Just call me Chris," Chan smiles and shakes your hand.

"Nice to meet you, just call me y/n," you introduce yourself.

You didn't notice Han rummaging through his bag until he tapped on your shoulder, holding out a spare change of clothes, "here put these on."

You gratefully took the clothes and went to change in the bathroom. You slipped on the oversized shirt and sweatpants. They looked strange paired with your Mary Janes and they were definitely not your style, but you were grateful that Jisung let you wear them.

When you slipped back into the practice room, you were greeted with 6 new faces along with Jisung and Chris. You bowed to all of them as they introduced themselves.

Han introduced you, "this is our new manager Han y/n. They're also my cousin, so don't be weird!"

"Don't worry, none of us were planning on it," Lee Know, Han's best friend, interjected, rather coldly.

You laughed off the rather cold comment, and explained the schedule that the boys were having at the moment. Just a simple marketing meeting. But the marketing team was busy, so they left it to you to brief all of them on the subject.

You read over the report one of the marketing heads had typed up for you. "So Lee Know Log number eight is going to be filmed on the 19th and they assigned me to go with you to Tokyo, which in parenthesis they say is a bummer to you because you wanted Jeon Gowook-ssi to go with you instead," you look at Lee Know for a moment before you continue," also a group live is scheduled for tomorrow, and that's all," you finish reading.

"What are we doing for the rest of today?" the boy with fox-like eyes, Jeongin, asked.

You pull out your work planner and flip to today's schedule, "the rest of today is a free day, but tomorrow as you all know you have interviews early in the morning so I wouldn't suggest staying up late tonight," you explain to the boy.

"A free day! I'm getting the hell outta here," Seungmin jumps up and grabs his backpack.

"Lets go get lunch!" Changbin suggests, "y/n you should come!"

"Yeah!" Felix agrees.

"Oh I dunno, I don't wanna bother you guys!" you insist.

"No don't do that c'mon we're gonna go to lunch!" Han persists.

Han practically dragged you along, even though you begged to not go.

When you all sat down at the KBBQ restaurant you were seated between Han and Lee Know. As the boys chatted over bites of food you stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt their conversations. "Y/n aren't you gonna eat anything?" Hyunjin asks from across the table.

You suddenly realize you hadn't eaten a single thing. "Typical y/nnie, even when we were kids, she'd go out of her way to not cause anyone any trouble," Han comments from your left.

Hyunjin takes a piece of steak from the grill and puts it on your plate, while Han starts telling a childhood story of you and him, "I remember one time we were learning how to ride bikes near the Han river, y/nnie was still using training wheels, and my older brother kept teasing her about it, so she took them off. She got about three feet down the path before she accidentally swerved into the freezing river. Luckily she could swim and we had to pull her out of the water. But when we insisted that we take her to the emergency room she looked at me and said 'I just fell in the river, it's not like I got hit by a car or anything!'" Han recalls.

The table erupted in laughter, except for Lee Know.

"You were okay though right?" Felix asks.

"Well for the most part, only some minor bruising!" you explain.

"MINOR!??! Your knee was practically busted open, you were bleeding like crazy!" Han exclaims.

Changbin stifled his laughter. And Han continued telling stories about you and his childhood. "There was this time in highschool when y/n was visiting me over the summer in Malaysia and one of my friends had a huge crush on her, like I'm talking gigantic, and y/nnie felt too bad to reject the guy, so she went on three dates with him until I had to call him and tell him that it was because she felt bad for him."

"Oh my gosh stop Ji, I still feel bad about that to this day!" You exclaim.

"Luckily that has been the only boyfriend of hers I've had to fend off," Han jokes.

"That's because he's the only boyfriend I've ever had!" you bring up.

"Well I didn't wanna embarrass you but yes that too," he chuckles.

"There's no way you've only had one boyfriend!" Felix exclaims.

"Are you gay?" Jeongin blurts.

Everyone stares at him before bursting into fits of laughter. "Stop! I'm being serious!" Jeongin yells.

"Uhm, I dunno? But no just guys don't really look at me like that," you say through chuckles.

"No wait that's sad!" Felix frowns.

You suppose that the two bottles of soju he had were finally starting to hit him. "No! Don't get all sappy I'm fine!" you insist.

Group dinners with you accompanying had become pretty frequent over the past few weeks, so had the clear sign that Lee Know was not fond of you or your presence.

Glares he would send you, cold and rude comments, even Han asked you what you did to make him dislike you so much. It tore Han apart, having to choose between his bestfriend and his cousin. Even though no one asked for him to choose, he always felt like the two of you disliking each other brought him into it.

Yet you had to go to Japan with Lee Know to help him film his vlog, maybe God did hate you, or maybe it was just bad luck. Whatever the case was, it did not help the fact that you were gonna be stuck with him in Tokyo and Kyoto for the next five days.

You had packed accordingly and met him at the airport. No words were exchanged between the two of you, except when he was instructing you to get his good side while you were filming him. "At least pretend you enjoy my company while on camera," you scoff.

Even when you landed in Tokyo, walking around with the man, you both exchanged few words. If you were a bystander on the street, it would seem like the two of you hated each other. He probably did hate you. Why? You have no idea.

"I'm gonna go out," you inform him, when the two of you return to your shared hotel room.

"Where?"

"A club, the one a few blocks west of here," you explain.

"That's dangerous," he comments before you're out the door.

You scoff, "I'm sure I'll be okay."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs.

You walk out the door and down the street to the club.

You mingle through the sweaty bodies to the bar, using the little Japanese that you did know to order a drink. "Long day?" a man beside you asks.

"Tell me about it," you chuckle.

"And what's your name?"

"y/n Han," you smile and give him your hand to shake.

He does but before he puts it down he kisses it, "well you look stunning," he compliments.

"Oh," you pause, "thank you, but uhm I can't really do anything, I'm here on a business trip."

"Well it's not like we have to go anywhere to do anything," the guy insists.

His presence was now making you uncomfortable. He got closer and closer to you, "c'mon sweetheart why don't we just slip off to the bathroom."

"No I'm good," you reply.

But the guy grabs your wrist and begins pulling you across the dance floor to the bathrooms despite your begging that he will let you go and leave you alone. Panic fills your mind, and another hand, a different one this time grabs your free wrist. Lee Know looks at you with worry on his face. "Who are you?" the guy from earlier asks.

"Her friend," Lee Know stares the guy down, "would you mind letting her go?" it was a question, but the only answer he would take would be yes.

"What're you gonna do if I don't? Hm?" The guy poses.

"You don't wanna fucking know," Minho seethes.

You look between the two men, hoping and praying Lee Know will win whatever is going on.

When the guy keeps dragging you, Lee Know punches him right in the nose. The guy's grip on your arm ends and Lee Know pulls you away from the guy and out the doors of the club in a swift motion. Before you can even thank him, he begins talking, "did he touch you anywhere other than your wrist?" rage was dripping in his voice.

You shake your head no, and tears well up in your eyes at the thought of what the guy was going to do to you if Minho hadn't been there.

"C'mon we're going back to the hotel," Minho says, giving you no chance to protest, not that you would.

When he opens the door to the hotel room he lets you walk in and closes the door behind you and him. "Thank you," you finally say.

"Don't mention it, d'you want to go home? I'll book a flight?" he asks.

You shake your head no, "I'm okay, it's okay."

"What happened was totally not fucking okay, you don't have to pretend like it was," he says while taking his shoes off.

He looks up at me, he crosses the room, kneeling beside me before unbuckles my shoes for me, tossing them near the doorstep.

"Why do you hate me?" you blurt.

Lee Know is quiet for a minute, "I don't hate you," he states.

"Then why are you so mean to me? You know what it's doing to Han? So why do you act this way?" you confront.

"Because it's easier to be mean to you and hurt Han then to tell him I'm head over heels for his cousin who is also our manager," he sighs.

"What?"

"You heard me," he retorts.

"Then why are you so-"

"Cold? Mean? Rude? Like I just said honey, I can't like you. I didn't want you to like me, so that way we wouldn't be anything," he elaborates.

"Who says I would even like you if you were nice to me?"

"So you wouldn't like me?" he whispers.

He stands up and tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. The words are caught in the back of your throat, "I would appreciate an answer my love."

"I- yeah- but- I yeah," you stutter.

"Keep it a secret?"

"Keep what a secret?"

"This," he leans down and his lips meet your own.

You immediately kiss back, taking a few minutes to savor the taste of him after the kiss ends. "You're a good kisser for someone who has only had one boyfriend before," Minho compliments.

"Thank you?"

Minho pauses, "I'm sorry, for being a dick, I wanna make it up to you."

You admire his feline-like features for a few moments before replying, "I can think of one way."

"What is it?"

"Another kiss?" you request.

And Minho is happy to oblige to your requests.

[pre11yyy]

Synopsis: Mark got short of money so he decided to take jeno's idea of trying porn into consideration

A.N: i don't really know how porn works so everything here is made up, also i forgot to a point that this was supposed to be porn so there is that.

Mark has been running short of money lately, so short, none of his part time jobs were enough for his college titutions neither they were enough to pay for his rent, he sighed resting his head on the single black sofa thinking about what he can do, he chew on his lower lip recalling his friend's Jeno words yesterday "what about acting in porn?" the later asked making Mark widen his eyes in disbelieve from the words that left his friend, his ears red "wtf do you mean dude no" he was quick to shut the offer down. But now he couldn't help but think about it.

He had heard stories about people earning so much in a single shoot, he wasn't a virgin but he had never had sex with someone he didn't know, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so he decided to call Jeno and ask for more information about the job. Jeno was quick to answer the phone. "Hey, I was starting to think you had changed your mind about that offer." Mark felt a little embarrassed, but he had to face reality. "No, I'm still interested. I just… needed some time to think about it, I guess." "Well, you came to the right place," Jeno replied with a chuckle. "I've got some connections in the industry, and I can get you an audition for one of the biggest production companies around. They're always looking for new talent." "Really?" Mark asked, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Really. Just meet me at the coffee shop tomorrow at noon, and I'll give you all the details you need." "Okay," Mark agreed, hanging up the phone. He sat there for a moment, still unable to believe that he was actually considering this.

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a real possibility. And if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. He would give it his all, just like he always did. The day of the audition came, Mark had no idea what they r gonna make him do in this audition, lucky for him that Jeno knew one of the guys that he introduced him to as Jaemin, he was quick to reassure Mark about everything, scanning him from head to toe before encouraging him to come to the audition. "So,What do you need me to do?" Mark asked, trying to hide his nervousness. Jaemin smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Well, We just want to see how you handle yourself on camera. We need you to follow my instructions, and do exactly what I tell you. Understood?" Mark nodded, taking a deep breath. "Understood." "Great. Now, why don't you get comfortable?" Jaemin motioned for him to sit on the black leather chair in the center of the room. "Just close your eyes and relax. I'm going to give you some directions through your earpiece."

Mark closed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself. He could feel the weight of the earpiece in his ear, and the gentle hum of Jaemin's voice as he began to give him instructions. "Okay… Mark… take a deep breath. Now, slowly exhale…" As he followed Jaemin's instructions, Mark felt himself beginning to relax. His heart rate slowed down, and his muscles loosened. He was ready. Or at least he thought so before Jaemin's next words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"All right, Mark. Time to strip for the camera and jerk off." What the hell? As much as Mark knew this is what the job is about he couldn't help the shock he felt, he has never done anything like this in front of anyone before, he cleared his throat reminding himself that he needs the money , this is his only shot to make it out of this hole he dug himself into, and he has to do it. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing his toned abs and broad chest. Then he slid off his pants, revealing his boxer briefs, which were already starting to bulge. He hesitated for a moment, but then continued, unfastening his belt and lowering his underwear. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock, and he couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it.

"That's it, Mark. You're doing great," Jaemin encouraged him through the earpiece. "Just keep going, and remember to make it look realistic." With a deep breath, Mark began to stroke himself, trying to mimic the movements he had seen in porn. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of his hand gliding up and down his shaft, and the anticipation of the inevitable release. As he continued, he could feel the tension building within him. His breathing became labored, and his muscles tensed. He knew he was close, but he had to hold on for just a little longer. He could hear Jaemin's voice in his ear, guiding him through each thrust, each caress.

Finally, he felt the familiar tightening in his abdomen, and the warmth spreading through his body. He moaned softly as he released his load, shooting thick, white ropes of cum across the room. His muscles relaxed, and he collapsed back into the chair, spent. He opened his eyes, blinking away the last remnants of the orgasm. Jaemin was watching him intently from across the room, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Very good, Mark. You will definitely work for us" Jaemin was impressed by the man's cock and expressions, having already a vision of how many people will come searching for his videos in the future . "Thank you," Mark managed to say between ragged breaths not really sure about what he is thanking the man about but he had to say something. "Don't mention it. Now, why don't you go ahead and get dressed? We'll talk about the next steps once you're ready." Gratefully, Mark stood up and began to dress. As he did, he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed after seeing the mess he made on the leather chair but he shook it off quickly, following one of the staff to another waiting room where other contestants were sitting . He took a deep breath, and tried to compose himself, waiting for someone to tell him what would happen next.

"Mark?" a familiar voice said, and he looked up to see Jeno standing beside him. "You did great in there." "Thanks," Mark managed to reply, still feeling a little shaky. "I hope so." Jeno smiled reassuringly and squeezed his shoulder. "Trust me, you killed it. You're going to be perfect for this job." He paused, then added with a wink, "And don't worry about the mess you made. They clean up after everyone." Mark couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "Okay," he said, feeling a little more at ease. "Thanks, Jeno. I really appreciate it." They sat in silence for a moment, just watching the others in the room. Finally, one of the staff members approached them and informed them about the last test which was for them to fuck a woman, Mark was so nervous, it has been so long since he has been laid or even thought about sex with someone else, he couldn't help but worry about his performance. "Don't worry about it," Jeno whispered to him. "You'll be fine. Just remember to enjoy it." And with that, the woman was brought in, and the final test began.

Mark was so nervous, he couldn't even remember your name. All he could focus on was your body as soon as he stepped in, seeing you laying on the bed in your whole glory, wearing only a red dress that left nothing to imagination, you turned your head upon hearing the door click and you couldn't help the sarcastic laugh that slipped out of you, you were sure that he is inexperienced just by the way he walked towards you, his steps hesitant and unsure. "You can take your time, sweetheart," you said with a smirk, your voice dripping with honey. Mark looked at you, his eyes wide with anticipation, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "I… I don't want to hurt you," he stammered. You laughed, a genuine, throaty sound that made his cock twitch. "Oh, don't worry about that. I can take care of myself." He nodded slowly, still unsure, but you could see the determination in his eyes. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your legs, you locked your eyes with his trying to seduce him and wanting just to get over this, sure that he won't do a good job but to your surprise he did.

Mark could feel his cock twitch at the way your were giving him attention his eyes wondering around your body not really sure where he should start with but remembering Jeno's words he followed his instincts trying to ignore the way the camera was on him. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and then slowly began to make his way up your body. Your skin was so soft beneath his lips, and you let out a soft moan as he reached your breast. He cupped it in his hand, gently massaging your nipple through the fabric of your dress. "That's it," you whispered, arching your back. "Touch me." He took this as a go signal and slowly began to unbutton your dress, revealing more and more of your body to him. Your breasts were full and perfect, and he couldn't help but marvel at them. With one final pull, the dress fell to the floor, leaving you completely naked. "Fuck," he breathed, staring at your body. "You're so beautiful." You smiled, running your hands through his hair. "Thank you," you purred. "Now, why don't you show me what you've got?" your eyes drifted to the tent on his pants, biting your lips you dragged your foot over it seeing how he dropped his head to the back a small groan leaving his lips, you smirked he looks big and you were so curious to see if you were right or not . He looked up at you, eyes dark with lust and it made your insides clench, maybe just maybe he started to grow up on you, Jaemin ruined this moment signaling you to hurry up as there is more contestants coming in and he didn't want you two to be late. "Come here, Mark," you said, pulling him down to you. "Let's see what you can do." He didn't hesitate, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss as he pushed his pants down, freeing his cock. You wrapped your hands around him, marveling at how hard he already was so impressed by how heavy he felt in your hold, your insides throbbing with anticipation before you guided him towards you entrance, both of you let breathy moans as you felt him stretch you perfectly, your eyes already watering at his size . "Fuck, you feel so good," he moaned, thrusting deeper into you. "So tight." You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you felt him bottom out. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, before pulling back and slamming hard into you again. "Yes," you cried, your head falling back, loving the feeling of him filling you so completely.

His pace was relentless, and you knew he was going to leave you sore and bruised, but that was the last thing you cared for, enjoying the stretch and focusing on the way he thrusts on you, your eyes rolled back, moaning constantly while Mark was basically on another dimension, loving the way you clench around him and the feeling of you dragging him down for a kiss. "Oh, God, I'm close," he panted, his rhythm becoming erratic and all the doubts he had about this job started fading away he'll definitely enjoy his job here, he find his hands going to wrap around your jaw, making you lock eyes with him and seeing the way you looked at him, biting your lip and moaning , he knew that this won't be the last time, he'll make sure to keep you coming back to him, he'll make sure to get into this contract and be your personal toy.

"Me too," you said, arching your back and grinding down on him. "m s-so fucking close" everything about you was so pornographic from the way you moaned to your facial expressions, everything was driving him crazy and Mark couldn't help himself, he wanted to ruin you, he wanted you to scream his name and collapse under him. With a harsh cry, your body tensed and you came, your inner muscles gripping him tightly as your release spilled around him. He followed close behind, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself into you. "Fuck," he groaned, collapsing on top of you, breathing heavily. You wrapped your arms around him, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsing through you. "That was… intense," you panted. That was the last time you've met Mark, he got accepted to the company yet your schedules never aligned and that was a shame cause none of people you had after him stretched you that good, every time you can't help it but imagine him instead… Months passed by and you started hearing a lot about him, you refused to check out his videos, scared? maybe! But you were more hopeful that you'll have a project together and you wanted to find out what changed, how good he has become, it was more thrilling for you this way and as if the universe had heard your prayers your manager had assigned you a project with Mark, you couldn't believe it, the stars were really aligned tonight.

Receiving the script that same morning your heart throbbed so hard from excitement , you had butterflies in your stomach and for the first time in a long time, you couldn't wait for the day to be over, for you two to meet again and for you to see if he's still as good as you remember.

And here you are, sitting in the makeup chair, wearing a small nurse dress, your boobs threatening to spill from the material, your hair down and wavy, a tiny ribbon tied around it. You're nervous, excited, and a bit anxious. "Almost done," the makeup artist says, finishing up with your lips. There was nothing out of ordinary in this makeup, it was leaning more to the natural side, but you still felt like a million bucks. Stepping out from you makeup room you noticed a more muscular figure back facing you while talking with Jaemin, an undercut black hair styled perfectly, the black button on hugging his body perfectly, highlighting his sculpted form, as it was tucked on his jeans, his waist so much smaller making him stand out, 'that's not Mark right?' there was no way he became this muscular in a short amount of time. Jaemin's voiced cut your thoughts signaling you to come in, the man next to him turned around as well and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched at the sight of Mark, more handsome than last time and most importantly his demeanor a lot different, more confident it was as if he was a different person. You felt his eyes scan your uniform, biting on his bottom lip as he take it in, before smiling at you . "You look great," he says, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, taking in his scent, something musky and earthy, and you can't help the way it makes your insides flutter, Jaemin smiled already loving the chemistry "you'll look so good in this video i can sense the hit" he smirked as he took in the tension between the both of you.

"You two know what to do" he said and left, letting you and Mark talk things out before filming. "How have you been?" you asked, feeling a little bit awkward after all those months,"I've been good, you?" he replied, still holding your hand. "I've been… fine," you shrugged. "So… you like the new look?" u gestured to the different color you died ur hair to,He smirked and ran his fingers through his hair. "I do, it suits you." "Thanks," you breathed out. "You look… different." u added and he chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah…I've been working out" he shrugged making you hum in response He tilted his head to the side, studying you, obviously hesitating to say something before he let it go "So, have you seen any of my videos since then?" You shake your head. "No, I've been avoiding them." you replied honestly and that made him raise an eyebrow. "Why?" curiosity very evident on his tone and it made you giggle,glancing away, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Well, i just wanted to discover how much u've improved since then live, you know.."

He smiled at that. "Sounds like you've waiting for this to happen" he gestured to the small studio you r in right now, a bunch of medical equipment filling the space with a single bed in the center. "Well, I've been practicing. I've gotten better at…" he paused, his cheeks flushing a little. "You know." you chuckle at his flustered face nodding in understanding "yeah" you mumbled, shifting your hair the the other side, you could feel Mark's eyes bore into you, his gaze focused on your exposed neck looking forward to what will happen, the scenario playing on his head again, and again and again…

The staff were making sure to set the place perfectly, trying different angles in the camera to see which one works the best before signaling for you to start, Mark was sitting on the small bed which looked even smaller in contrasts with his bigger form, his hands playing with his phone waiting for you 'his nurse' to show up, with a deep breath you stepped in smiling while welcoming him, carrying a small medical kit in your hand. Mark put his phone away, returning your smile as you walked closer. "Hey, Mr Lee, how are you feeling today?" you ask, making sure to keep eye contact. He chuckled, his gaze lingering on your lips. "I'm good, thanks.how about you?"

"I'm doing great, actually." You set the medical kit down on the bedside table and turned bending over a little bit to get the 'thermometer' that fall 'accidentally', flashing your whole ass to the camera and to Mark as your small dress rode up, his eyes scanning your backside as you stood back up, he swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled, trying to not give anything away. "It seems like you're doing a lot better." you tried to soften your voice turning back to him helping him to pull up his sleeves, his arm revealing his toned and muscular biceps, making you want to touch them. "Oh definitely" He replied, his eyes staring at ur cleavage that was presented deliciously in front of him, his pants tightening in arousal, his hand twitches, wanting to touch it, to feel it,

"So, let's get started." You say, taking his hand and leaning him down to the bed, your breasts almost touching his arm. "I need to take your temperature first." "Oh, alright." He nods, his grip on your hand tightening. Once he's lying down, you climb onto the bed as well, straddling his waist. Your hair cascades over his chest, and you can feel his breath hot against your neck as you reach up to take his temperature.

As you take his temperature, your breasts brush against his chest, and you feel his hands snake around to gently grope them through your shirt. He sucks in a breath, his hips bucking against yours in silent invitation. The feel of his strong, warm body beneath you sends a shiver down your spine. But you had to follow the script, trying to pull away from his grasp his hands keeping you tightly from moving, his lips whispering loud enough for the mics to pick "Don't act like you don't like it, you've been teasing me since i came in here, you're my nurse and it's your duty to take care of me, don't u agree?" You moan,despite you shaking your head in disagreement, pushing him away, Mark scoffed his hand going to wrap around your hair tugging at it to expose your neck, his free hand traveling to the front of your dress, groping your breast through the material harshly, your head falling back as he does.

"That's more like it" he groaned as another moan escaped ur lips, his fingers working harder on ur nipples twisting and tugging at the bud on top of the dress, his other hand still tangled in your hair, his tongue traced your earlobe making you shiver "You pretend like you don't want to get fucked yet look at you not even wearing a bra, such a dirty girl" "Please," you beg, arching into his touch.His lips ghosting over ur breasts wetting the fabric with is tongue as he took one nipple between his teeth, his free hand now cupping your ass and lifting you onto him, his hard cock pressing directly into your core.

"God you're wet" he growled, feeling your wetness through his pants,his fingers sliding down under ur panties parting your folds, finding your clit already hard and swollen. His fingers teased you, circling your bud for a few seconds, before he carried you making you sit on his face, his tongue lapping at your wetness, your hands finding their way into his hair pulling at it slightly as he worked his tongue on your folds. "Oh fuck yes," you moan, grinding your hips down against his mouth, using him, rolling your eyes back and arching your back, enjoying his tongue lashing on ur cunt. "You taste so good, baby," he groans, his words vibrating through your body making you tighten your grip on his face choking him with your thighs.

Mark can feel himself getting lightheaded, his vision starting to blur, but he doesn't care. All he can think about is the way your pussy tastes and the way your body feels pressed against his. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, and he can feel the blood rushing to his head. He moans against your clit,the vibrations send a shock wave after another one through your body, making you tremble with pleasure. "I'm going to cum," you warn him, and he doubles down, his tongue thrusting into your hole making you throw ur head back, he was so good at using his tongue his nose rubbing against your clit consistently.

"Mmm, yeah," he growls loving your taste, his voice muffled by your pussy."oh my god!" you cry out, your body shaking as you reach your climax, the pleasure rippling through you, your legs turning into jelly as you collapse on top of him. He takes in a shuddering breath, his mind spinning from the combination of the oxygen deprivation and the taste of your cum on his tongue. His cock is painfully hard, and he can feel it throbbing against his pants, desperate to be free and inside you. "Fuckkk" he groaned, his voice rough from the lack of air and the intense sensations that have just washed over him.

With shaking hands, he reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, tugging them and his boxers down to reveal his hardened cock. His eyes meet yours looking down at him with flushed face ur thighs resting between his head and it took everything from him to not bite on the soft flesh, he lifted you again, easily guiding you down to meet his hardness.

"Fuck into me" his voice was so commanding that it sent a shiver down your spine, his hands grabbing and squeezing your ass while his lips attached themselves to ur breasts again biting and sucking on ur nipples while keeping your dress on. "Oh God," you whimper, feeling his cock stretching you open, the same stretch you've been craving for, your hips bucking, ur hands digging into his shoulders as you try to take him in deeper. "Fuck yeah," Mark groans, his hips thrusting up, meeting ur movement, his mouth moving higher, sucking on your collarbones, the saliva on his lips making a wet sound as they connect with your skin. His hands move up, cupping your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, making them hard and sensitive.

"Fuck I love how wet you are," he moans, his hips thrusting up, the thick head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Your moans fill the room, ur hips moving in rhythm with his, your hands fisting in his hair as you ride him, ur nails digging into his scalp as you lose yourself in the feeling of him inside you…. "Fuckkk, I'm gonna…" you pant, your orgasm building, growing, threatening to consume you whole. He growls, his hips slamming into you harder, his hand moving between your bodies, rubbing ur clit roughly, his free hand sliding up your body to cup your mouth, his fingers pressing into your lips"Suck," he orders, and you eagerly comply, taking two fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his skin, the salty taste of his sweat and the musky smell of his body overwhelming your senses, making your head spin and your pussy tighten around him.

"That's it," he says, his voice low and dangerous, his hand moving back down, kneading ur ass before delivering a hard smack, the sting making you gasp. "Fuck," you cry out, your head dropping back, your eyes squeezing shut, your orgasm washing over you, waves of pleasure crashing down on you, your body trembling with the force of it, your inner walls gripping him, pulsing, milking him. "That's it, baby, cum for me," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, his nails digging into your flesh, his hips stuttering, his own release approaching,

"Fucking shit," he grunts, his hips jerking up, burying himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he spills himself into you, filling you with his seed, the sensation bringing you over the edge once more, making you scream and sob, tears running down your cheeks, your body shaking with the intensity of your release, the camera quick to capture the scene, both of your fucked out face and his cum spilling out of your hole caught in full HD as he pulled away, leaving you on the bed with ur legs spread open, your body still shaking as he tucked his softening cock into his pants and 'leaving'. The director signaled for cut and the whole set sighed in relief, some chuckling at the state you were in and how quick Mark has become a star, they were impressed and couldn't wait to see how far this will go, Jaemin smirked seeing Mark walking towards him, his hair a mess from all the tugging and pulling, his shirt a bit crumpled and his lips slightly red.

"You did a great job " Jaemin smiled,Mark's lips curved into a grin, nodding and thanking him, his eyes drifting back to you as one of the staff helped you clean up. "She's good, isn't she?" Jaemin asked and that snapped him out of his thoughts. "Yeah, she is"

I wasn't planing to write this now but guess i did lmao, it's not the best in terms of quality especially in the smut as i rushed writing it tbh, but i'll add stuff to it when i get out of work, but yeah anyways... M also planing this to be a series so we will see how it's gonna go

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Tag List: CLOSED

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5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

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10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

[theodorecanaryhood]

Wrong number

Jason Todd (left) x Male reader (right)

Reader gets a wrong number calling and the two get into a discussion

Boxes filled the floor space as you moved them to place, looking around you saw in your mind where you wanted everything.

Finally able to afford a new place of your own, moving from your parents. A bit reluctant about moving to Gotham City of all places sure, but rent is much cheaper here.

With a couple of weeks to spare until you began your new job, you had more time to make your home and home.

Your phone ringing distracted you, the vibration of your cell in your back pocket made you jump a little.

‘Hello?’ You answered, a man’s voice presented itself.

‘Hey Kevin, how are you?’ The man’s voice said.

‘This isn’t Kevin, sorry I think you have the wrong number’ you replied as the man sighed down the other side.

‘Fuck, my Grindr match must’ve given me a wrong number’ he said sadly.

You felt bad for the stranger on the other side, he just wanted to get to know a new guy and got rejected.

‘Guess he did, sorry’ you said as the man sighed again.

The man took a breath on the other end as he began to speak again.

‘So, what’s your name?’ He asked, you rested the phone between your shoulder and ear as you moved a box from the floor in the hallway, moving it to what would be the bedroom.

‘Y/n’ you replied, walking to the bedroom.

‘Well I’m Jason’ he introduced as you smiled a little.

‘Awesome, nice to meet you’ you smiled again.

You could hear Jason smilie on the other end, as he seemed to what you took as lay down.

‘You from here?’ He asked, you shook your head.

‘No, from Coast City, moved here for work and independence’ you revealed.

‘Well Gotham is an interesting choice’ Jason smirked.

‘I’m sure’ you chuckled as you placed the box on the bare mattress.

‘So, you single?’ Jason asked, you laughed.

‘Yeah’ you said as Jason chuckled.

‘You into guys?’ Jason asked, you raised an eyebrow.

‘Guess’ you said as Jason sighed again.

‘If I guess, can I take you out?’ Jason asked, you beamed.

You sat on the bare mattress, enjoying the phone call from a stranger. From his voice you guessed he was a big guy.

‘Go ahead’

‘You’re a bottom, you like men to dominate you’ Jason said.

‘Correct’ you laughed as Jason cheered on the other end of the phone.

‘This is creepy for a first phone call and we don’t even know what we look like’ Jason realised as you nodded.

‘I agree, but I guess we’ll have to meet up’ you suggested.

‘Great, how about tonight at six? There’s a bar not too far away from Iceberg. It’s called Red Sea’ Jason said.

‘Red Sea? Shall I dress up Captain Jack Sparrow or something?’ You chuckled, making Jason laugh on the other end of the phone.

‘Sure if you want’ Jason joked as you walked to a box of clothes.

‘Cool, see you at six, Jason’ you said, Jason’s voice was like music.

‘See you then, y/n’

The call ended, you couldn’t believe the luck you had of a random number calling you and asking you out within 30 minutes of talking.

You had no friends out here so it only made sense that you would not have objections to meeting up with someone.

Course, not a great meet and greet if you have no idea who he is, what he looks like or even if he is a serial killer or something.

‘I’m wearing a black tank top’ the text from Jason’s number said, you walked to the Red Sea doors.

Taking a breath as you walked in, finding Jason with a black tank top and black jeans. Black hair, tattoos, big arms on show.

‘Jason?’ You asked, the black haired man shot his eyes to you.

‘Whoa, hey, y/n?’ Jason took your form in as he stood up.

The two of you shook hands, Jason towered over you, his eyes drew you in.

The two of you had a drink and sat together, Jason’s skin was warm and soft. He reached for your hand across from the table.

The two of you heals onto each other, Jason reached across from the other side as he brushed your hair back.

Your heart raced, blood rushed down to your pants. You felt yourself rising in between the legs as you faced the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

‘Wanna dance?’ Jason asked, you nodded as Jason switched on the duke box.

The two of you held onto each other as you swayed to the music.

Jason leant down as he stroked your face, kissing you gently. You ran a hand up his arms as you deepened the kiss.

Holding onto his shoulders, Jason held your face as he snuck his tongue inside your mouth.

Kisses as sweet as heaven, Jason brushed himself against you as you felt his length rising too.

‘My place isn’t too far from here, want to head back there?’ Jason asked you, you nodded.

Jason took his time with you, greeting you with long slow kisses, little smiles and words of comfort.

Holding onto Jason, his back being greeted by scratches as his neck was greeted by your lips.

Jason was the best sex you’d ever had, you were certain that you were for him too. The two of you made so much noise, making so much mess from sweat, bites, clothes everywhere.

The two of you lay together as you slept sweetly in Jason’s arms, him being so determined to see you again.

You didn’t realise you could fall in love so quickly, neither did Jason.

All it took was a Grindr match to give a wrong number, and for you answer your phone.

[clockwork-ashes]

Wildflowers

Summary: Eris goes to the Spring Court looking for Lucien, and instead finds Tamlin (short one-shot).

Note: Thank you to everyone who shared plot ideas! I'm still working on them :) Huge thank you to the lovely anon that suggested something with Tamlin <3

Eris sat on emerald grass, a green so rich and lovely, still damp in the cool air of the early morning. Leaning back against the rough bark of an old oak tree, he kept his long legs stretched out, booted feet crossed at the ankle. 

The strong scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, sharp and unwelcome with every breath Eris took. He gazed up lazily, letting his head fall against the wood behind him, tracking rays of sunlight as they filtered in through countless branches. 

Eris was always struck with how still the forest was in Spring. Unmoving, as if the trees were made of stone, a stark contrast to Autumn’s constantly falling leaves. He could at least admit that it was beautiful, full of vibrant colours, despite the fact that all the plants were always in half-bloom. 

It was not often that Eris found himself on the other side of the shared border between the two courts, past the gradual change of the seasons. It was even less often that Eris left the Forest House without the High Lord’s permission, but he was prepared for any of the reactions his father might have upon hearing of his whereabouts. 

With a sigh, Eris turned his attention to the small path foot soldiers walked daily during their patrols. He had set one of his own soldiers to keep a steady watch of who came and went, and had been surprised to hear that it was Lucien who took the earliest of shifts on the sunniest of days. 

Lucien had never cared much for armies, had left that to his older brothers so he could hone his skills as a courtier. Eris had heard whispers that Tamlin had made Lucien an emissary, a relatively smart decision considering Tamlin could barely hold a conversation. 

As Eris watched the High Lord of Spring make his way down the path instead of his younger brother, he felt his lips pull down in a scowl. He silently cursed the male who had given him such a dreadfully wrong lead, wondering if he should simply winnow back to his home. 

Tamlin looked troubled, Eris observed, and it was a testament to where his thoughts might have been that he did not notice an Autumn Court prince sitting just out of his line of sight. 

With a sharp whistle, similar to the ones Eris used to capture the attention of his hounds, he made his presence known. He watched as Tamlin whirled in his direction, caught by surprise but still ready for a fight. 

Tamlin had his claws out, sharp and glinting in the light of the sun. Canines longer than usual pressed against his lips, eyes flashing like a mountain lion’s. He kept a large hand on the silver hilt of his longsword. 

Eris scoffed as their gazes met, as Tamlin’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief. It always managed to shock Eris how trusting Tamlin was, young and untried as a High Lord, perhaps too optimistic when it came to believing that Prythian was in a time of peace. 

“Lost in thought?” Eris asked, loosening the laces at his throat. 

Tamlin’s dark eyes tracked the movement, hands falling to his side. “Looking for Lucien?” he called back, claws smaller, but still sharp enough to cause damage if he so wished. 

Eris offered the High Lord one of his most charming smiles, responding with a question of his own. “What if I said I was looking for you?” 

Tamlin scoffed, taking a few careful steps towards the tree Eris was sitting under. “Then I’d call you a liar.” 

“I’ve been called worse,” Eris shrugged. “You look troubled,” he added, hoping Tamlin might give him some interesting information and this whole pointless interaction would not be for nothing. “Copper for your thoughts?”

Tamlin ran his fingers through his hair, tucking a strand behind a pointed ear. “Go back to Autumn, Eris, you won’t find Lucien here.”  

“It’s been a few short years and already your company has run my little brother from your court?” Eris raised an auburn brow, he had heard no indication that Lucien had gone elsewhere. 

Tamlin frowned at the suggestion. “He’s in Summer, going over trade agreements.” 

Eris hummed in response, deciding he could bring such news to his mother. “And you just couldn’t be bothered to join him?” 

“Hybern’s sent one of their generals to my shores,” Tamlin winced before he continued. “I thought your father would have said, she’s looking to stop in Autumn next.”  

Eris waved his hand in a careless gesture. “He’s probably already decided that there will be no alliance made between us. Wariness and good sense come with old age,” he warned, hoping Tamlin was smart enough to send the general back to her island. 

Tamlin simply nodded, and Eris figured their conversation was over. 

He elegantly stood, straightening his brocade waistcoat. “Always a pleasure, Tam.” 

Tamlin scrunched his nose up in annoyance at the way Eris had shortened his name, entirely too familiar. “I’ll tell Lucien you were looking for him.” 

“No need,” Eris shook his head. “I came to see you, after all,” he drawled. 

Tamlin frowned in response. “I think he’d like to know, sometimes I feel like you’re the only one of his brothers that ever mattered.” 

“Do as you like,” Eris clipped, voice measured despite the emotion that nearly choked him. With no warning, Eris winnowed from the Spring Court, leaving its High Lord and the sharp scent of its wildflowers behind him.

[raina-at]

Laugh

Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I would recognise anywhere

The city lights reflect on the Danube river on this mild summer evening. The whole city is outside, at least it feels like it. Restaurants and bars and cafes have all put their chairs and tables outside. Schanigarten, the Viennese call it. A delightfully chaotic yet orderly habit of using public land for the enjoyment of everyone. 

Sherlock should sleep. But the city is so lovely, and the night is so mild. For once, he’s not being chased, or shot at, or hunted. He’s waiting, for new papers, for a new identity, and Vienna in June is a good place to wait. 

The wind smells like hope and a river in a city. It reminds Sherlock of London. The Danube is a different beast altogether, of course, the great stream meandering through most of middle and eastern Europe before making its way into the Black Sea. It’s been a recurring companion, in Romania, in Germany, in Hungary. Here, in Vienna, he feels like it’s greeting him like an old friend. 

He’s walking through the inner city, just enjoying the anonymity of the masses, tourists, mainly, but many locals as well, having a beer or a glass of wine outside after a long work day. It smells vaguely of frying fat and horse manure. It reminds him of London again, of walking down Whitehall past the horse guards.

Soon. He can go home soon. One last job. Mycroft promised. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he feels like some invisible hand has reached into his chest and is piercing his heart.

That laugh…

It can’t be.

He steps into a doorway and looks around, tries to isolate the sound.

He’s not here. You’re kidding yourself. You were thinking of him. Of home. 

There. In the Schanigarten across the street. A group of British tourists. A man laughs. He looks nothing like John. But his laugh…

For just a second, Sherlock thought… 

Hoped…

What he wouldn’t give for once glance. Just a tiny glance. Just a second, to know John is all right. 

He closes his eyes and imagines. What it would be like, if this man over there, who looks nothing like John but has his laugh, was actually John. And he knows, he knows, it’s actually better that it’s not John, because Sherlock wouldn’t be satisfied with one glance. 

What if this was truly John? Would he wait in the shadows, watching? Would he follow John home through the dark alleys and cobbled streets of this lovely city? Would he finally step out of the shadows, just as John is ready to go into his hotel? 

Would he grab John’s wrist, pull him into a shadowy courtyard? Would John try to yell, just to recognise Sherlock as Sherlock puts his hand over his mouth to stifle the scream? Would John look at him in shock, wide-eyed with wonder? 

Would Sherlock then replace the hand with his mouth, press their lips together, taste John’s fiery anger, his sweet relief, his voice, whispering, “Sherlock…”?

Would John take Sherlock back to his room? Would they not talk all night, just for the dawn to come and for Sherlock to leave with one last, lingering kiss to remind them both that this wasn’t a fever dream, but real, and precious? Would he promise to come back, would John promise to wait?

Sherlock pounds his fist against the wall to remind himself where he is. Who he is. Why he can’t lose himself in a stupid, childish fantasy. 

He has a job to do. A job he needs to finish before he can indulge in even thinking about what a possible after would look like. A job that needs to be done so John can be safe. 

He doesn’t want you that way anyway… 

But maybe… maybe when I come back… 

Stop it. You have a job to do. You can’t afford the distraction.

Tomorrow, he will travel to Belgrade, where the Danube will greet him on the last leg of his journey. He’ll finish his job, and then, he can go home.

Then, maybe…

Tomorrow, he moves on.

Tonight, he listens to a stranger’s laugh that sounds so much like home, and he allows himself to dream. 

-----

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @salmonsown @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty

[frasermints]

imagine you are in your mid twenties. you were always out of place - the eldest, uglier daughter of a bookstore owner that never said he loved you and was always disappointed in the decisions you made. you read science fiction and 40s detective novels and quite literally studied the blade because it was better than being at home or getting rejected by boys.

you've just been reassigned all the way across the country after the married coworker you were sleeping with was shot in the line of duty - on YOUR watch. everyone was looking at you because YOU let him die. so they sent you away. and now that you're here, it almost happens again.

something weird happens and they send you... all the way across the country again, with someone new in some weird location doing god knows what. and you get to do wonderful beautiful amazing scary life altering things. and you build a life there. you adopt a ferret and you move all of your belongings and you make friends and you save lives.

and then. oh, and then.

you grew up reading the novels. you fell in love with the writing and the fantasy of it all - science we could never dream of having and concepts we could never think of exploring. and then you got this job, and it all... it was all possible.

and then you met her. you found out she was actually a woman. and you met her. sure it was at the hot end of a gun, but. she saved your life. she gave you one of her inventions. she took you on wild adventures. you became partners.

you fell in love.

and then you met at the hot end of a gun again. she betrayed you, everyone you worked with, everyone you worked to make trust the both of you. she fell apart. you fell apart.

you gave it all up. they made her disappear.

she comes back one day. it's not really her. they trapped her mind and released her body off into the world. and just as you get her back she's gone again. she's gone and you're gone and she looks at you and says how dare you come back, how dare you interrupt my life, the life i'm building, the life i have away from you what are you doing here myka

"you called us"

myka bering you deserved so much more. you deserved more than bury your gays you deserved more than silent and implied bisexuality you deserved more than longing looks and lingering stares myka bering you deserved to be happy and to be emotional and to love helena wells with every part of your being and i am so sorry you didn't get that babe

[cb97percent]

「Screw It」 · Chapter 2

HIS SECOND THOUGHTS ➥ Chris is supposed to 'let loose' at the biannual depravity festival a.k.a the Sigma Kappa mixer.

➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

➥ Installment of The Red Lights Chronicles

⚠ — Discussions of virginity (see masterlist for more)

“How the fuck is everyone so natural at this?” Chris quickly scanned the large room, his face contorted in mild shock.

The entire place was buzzing with laughter and varying levels of sleaziness. People talking to one another way too closely, dancing a bit too intimately, licking salt off each other’s necks and what have you…

Then you had the Holmes-Watson duo at the secluded corner of the bar, looking way too serious like they were discussing politics over brandy in the late 1800s.

“Did you notice how the guys are exchanging their dick game testimonials?”

“WHAT?! No?”

“That’s because they don’t!” Jisung slid another shot glass towards his friend and raised his for a toast, “Everyone’s just following their instincts, my man. It’s called thinking with your dick.”

It was frustratingly easy to tell someone (not) to do something, wasn’t it? Oh, don’t worry about it. Change your perspective. Don’t let it get to you. Turn a blind eye. Don’t be depressed. 

Actually doing it, though? Goddamn monk patience right there.

It wasn’t like Chris was incapable of assigning the driver���s seat to his reproductive parts. If anything, his mind was way too preoccupied with it, but strictly when he was alone rather than in public functions like this. A force of habit to be ‘proper’. Every time he was about to get physical with someone, that same footage installed itself in his jumbotron inner-mind theater like a cruel foreshadowing of what was about to go down. 

Getting scarred once isn’t enough? Try the latest Christopheresque methods of self-torture for a chance to win a gift card!

In conclusion, no, he couldn’t figure out a way to ‘not let it get to him’.

He was trying, and god fucking knows he wanted to remove that bothersome splinter buried six feet under his façade, but something always seemed to conveniently get in the way.

This one’s too chatty. That one’s on TikTok. This one thinks it’s okay to say ‘irregardless’. That one wears too much lime green.

As if any of that was fundamentally important for sexual chemistry. But he couldn’t help it. 

The more time passed by, the bigger his inadequacy complex grew since he wasn’t able to, quote, ‘stack up those XP points when he could.’ Now it seemed too late like he missed some important deadline, and the whole thing was a piece of gum stuck to his shoes, continuously faltering him and making cringeworthy noises when he walked.

You. Suck. You. Suck. You. Suck.

Maybe pursuing doctoral education was just a massive overcompensation on his part, who knows? 

“It’s not rocket science, man, just…” Jisung mimed something that was supposed to be his soul leaving his body, “Let loose.”

“Let… loose,” Chris echoed his words while zoning out, but his mind was simply not cooperating with him to be present, “Shit! I needed to revise my syllabus.”

“My god you’re a nerd,” Jisung looked at him in utter disbelief, then sought help from Minho behind the bar, “Ares package. Make it two.”

While ten shots of Wet Pussies were being prepared, he examined Chris’ distracted face. Channie boy was like this for as long as Jisung knew the guy. Stubborn. Headstrong. Latching onto everything he could find to repair his pride. Of course it didn’t mean shit to be a virgin regardless of where you were in the adult timeline, but instead of admitting how much it was bothering him, Chris was pretending to be at peace with it. That was the frustrating part. And if he weren’t spectacularly failing at it, Jisung wouldn’t even consider dragging his ass to every social gathering he could find, but simply talking to the man did not seem to be working anymore. This bootleg immersion therapy was his last resort before he brought up the alternative of escorts again and risked getting punched in the face.

Or worse, another seminar on the ethics of sex work.

“Stop sabotaging yourself,” Jisung slapped him on the shoulder, “Just enjoy the moment for once.”

Why, I’d love to see a step-by-step demonstration of that, Chris wanted to loudly roll his eyes but pumped the brakes at the last second. He wasn’t even mad at Jisung. He wasn’t mad at anyone actually. The only person he loathed with a burning passion was himself for making a huge deal out of something that was supposed to be so damn trivial. He raised his shot for a silent toast and downed all five back to back to take all the residual edge off.

He didn’t want to fucking think anymore.

“She seems cool,” Jisung nodded towards a girl surrounded by what looked like the distant cousins of the Kardashians.

“I don’t think so,” Chris immediately protested, “Looks like she would livetweet it.”

“How about her?”

“GOD no. Too much Slytherin energy.”

“How is that even—?”

“Not the Lestrange kind. Pass,” Chris leveraged Jisung’s one weakness, “You know what, I thi—”

“Fucking stop overthinking this, or I’m gonna risk it all and slap the shit out of you,” he held onto Chris’ broad as fuck shoulders and harshly shook him, “Tonight we’re letting loose. Say it, what are we gonna do?”

“Let–Let loose.”

“With feeling.”

“Let loose.”

“DIG DEEP!”

“LET LOOSE!”

“Can I be a part of that?”

The duo was startled to death when they heard an unfamiliar voice next to them, not to mention right in the middle of a mortifying pep talk. The commandments of Wingmanism dictated doing the preliminary eliminations on behalf of your bro, immediately prompting Jisung to turn on his radar.

Looks? Check. Locked phone? Check. Lack of lime green? Check. 

Without giving Chris the chance to make a dumbass argument, he approved of this candidate and nudged the prospective coupling of the night towards the couch. When he turned to the bar again, he heaved a huge sigh as if he had just put the kids to bed.

“Still trying to get him laid?” Minho asked with a faded sneer.

“I’m gonna die with my eyes open if I depart this world without seeing it,” Jisung hyperbolically gestured, but one look at the gorgeous cheekbones in front of him, and his whole entire personality changed, “But more importantly, whatchu doing later tonight?”

“Damn, they don’t do pleasantries where you’re from?”

“Come on, you like me,” he leaned forward, the smile on his face impossible not to reciprocate, “Why do you drag me around so much? I’m obviously simping for you.”

“You realize I’m holding a sharp object.”

“That’s your version of batting eyelashes. Everybody knows that.”

As much as he wanted to keep the psychotically stoic mask, something about the quokka dude was just plain irresistible. Careful not to give a hundred percent of what he wanted, Minho let out a snort and darted his eyes away.

“Ask me again in two hours and we’ll see.”

Jisung triumphantly slammed his hand on the bar top, scaring the shit out of his porcelain prince, then disappeared into the crowd to mingle with some of his friends.

Meanwhile on the blue corner, Chris was midway through one of the most intense mental statistics of his life.

The girl in front of him was a total ten. He knew a couple of guys who would murder him in cold blood just to get with someone like her. One needed to have inoperable astigmatism not to notice she was encouraging him to… well, let loose. Her body language was clearly indicative of willingness. Touching his arm, playing with her hair, laughing at a genuinely unfunny joke—if he made a move now, she would leave with him. 

Ergo, p < 0.05. Possibility of score: 97%.

“Do you think we can take this somewhere… more private?” the nameless girl finally brought it up herself when Chris failed to mention anything remotely evocative of sex. It was a simple yes or no question, but he was choking harder than B-Rabbit in 8 Mile.

She was objectively so damn hot with the kind of body you would brag about in locker rooms. That was supposed to be his focal point, but he was having trouble focusing on her words, let alone being turned on. All he could think about was how this conversation couldn’t be any more boring, and he had endured a finance lecture once. Nothing was ever going to come out of bedding this girl tonight. Even her perfume smelled like the looming regret of the morning after. 

There had to be something fundamentally wrong with him at this point.

Uh oh, do something. She’s getting closer, DO SOMETHING!

“OKAY, I’m gonna go,” he jumped to his feet, giving no fucks about providing a reasonable explanation, and almost booked it towards the front door.

“Chris?” Jisung called out after him with slight concern, but Chris had half a mind to set fire to this place. Everything, everyone, all of it was suddenly too much.

“Later, bro.”

Only when he reached the safe bubble of his home did his heartbeat slow down to a normal rhythm, letting him heave a half-relieved half-disappointed sigh behind that closed door. Shower was the least of his priorities at that moment—he went straight to his room, got naked, threw himself to his bed, and started scrolling through his phone to find something to jerk off and sleep.

Art, art, gif, gif, art, text post, incorrect quote, gif, gif, art…

Then…

bassboostedjiscake reblogged: Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. Creaming guaranteed 🍦

Jisung was the horniest guy he knew, so if he dropped this on Chris’ dashboard, it must have been at least worth taking a look. He clicked on the profile thinking he was going to be greeted by Jisung’s newest favorite ‘adult content creator’ posting semi-nudes, however—

🌶️Oni @scovillescale I like pizza. And creating sexy universes.

Sexy… universes? 

The fuck did that even mean?

After scrolling through a bunch of Q&A posts, he got to the cream of the crop. Technically, yes, this was an adult content creator, but not in the format he was used to. Finally noticing what he was looking at, Chris couldn’t contain the scream bubbling up in his throat.

“This is goddamn 2D porn!”

If it weren’t for the fact that he was bored and horny that one night, he probably wouldn’t have been at this exact part of the Internet, but he was, and for a man who thought animated porn was high art, this blog was a fucking gold mine. 

His worlds had collided.

Shortly after, he found himself deep into the rabbit hole of this Oni person’s body of work. Artwork being pretty was one thing, but the story? So captivating that he couldn’t put his phone down.

“BUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!”

The last time he startled himself with his own voice was probably when he was reading one of those original choose your own adventure books. He stayed up till 3 a.m. binging one story, completely forgetting to jerk off until the very last sex scene, which depicted the female lead riding her love interest at the back of a car while choking him. The orgasm he had to that?

Fucking sublime.

Once sufficient blood started flowing to his brain again, he immediately hit follow, then fervently typed a message.

Anonymous asked: HOLY SHIT I mean it as the highest compliment possible, but I came so hard reading this. Your style is awesome and you got an instant fan. Can I be your 🍍 anon?

He didn’t even think twice before hitting Ask with the orgasm high, but all of a sudden, he remembered Jisung’s wording in that godforsaken reblog.

Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. 

My girl.

So he had just told a woman at three in the morning that he masturbated to a story she created and that he came so harfwnekjfnwfnw THAT WAS SO FUCKING INAPPROPRIATE!

Chris wanted his bed to swallow him whole, beside himself with how mortified he was. He only meant to convey his admiration, completely skipping over the fact that he wasn’t talking to one of his online bros. God, the disrespect… There was no way to edit this goddamn digital owl, let alone delete it before this turning-sex-into-art goddess saw that.

His fast-forwarded panic monologue was cut short barely a minute later. He saw the reply post on his dashboard, and it made his heart jump in his chest for no reason. 

Someone was online. At this hour.

Thank you for being so awesome! Also you got taste. Pineapple pizza slaps! #🍍 anon

The amount of relief he felt for not being called an uber creep was enough to knock him to sleep. He reread the message at least five times before putting his phone down.

“She likes pineapple pizza?” he chuckled to himself stupidly in his bed.

What a goddamn scandal.

He clasped his hands under his nape and replayed the night in his head one more time. His talk with Jisung, the encounter with the nameless girl… Some things did come naturally to some people, and Chris always found himself panicking when he tried doing the same.

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to experience some things in this life.

“Why couldn’t you be at the party tonight?” his smile trailed off into a disappointed sigh while looking at the dark screen of his phone.

⥊ TO BE CONTINUED ⥋

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

For every Minho with a pudding, there is a corresponding Chris with a pineapple. I don't make the rules.

Oh, wait, I actually do.

「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

[beastofburdenxo]

Look After You

This is based on later seasons of "Peaky Blinders" where Tommy has trouble with seizures. This time, he has you to look after him after he has one.

Hurt, fluff, comfort, mention of seizures, ptsd, typical Tommy language. @your-nanas-house

"Tommy.... there we are, it's alright. I got you." Tommy found himself in the kitchen floor, confused with his head in your lap. You were stroking the short sides of his hair, the gray starting to peek through.

Tommy tries to speak, but you silence him. "Don't speak, sweetheart, just relax. Breathe. It's over. I'm here with you." Tommy had a seizure at the kitchen table. He stopped talking mid sentence, and you knew what to do. You pulled him to the floor so he wouldn't fall out of his chair and hurt himself. Luckily, they never last very long.

"Another one?" Tommy finally whispers, tears in his eyes. "Mmm, hmm, just a short one, sweetheart. I pulled you to the floor so you wouldn't fall out and hurt yourself."

"Why am I wet?" Tommy asks you. You give him a forehead kiss before replying. "You lost control of your bladder. The doctor said that was normal, remember? It happens a lot during seizures."

"I fucking pissed myself on the kitchen floor?!"

"Shhhh, Tommy, it's okay. We'll get you cleaned up all good as new. Would you like me to call Francis or Arthur to help you up?"

"Fuck no!" Tommy cries with embarrassment. "I rather be shot! What kind of a man am I?!"

"Tommy." You coo, wiping his tears away. "You are the same man I married. Between being in the war and your various head injuries over the years, you can't help it. Now let's get you up and into the bath, yeah?"

You run Tommy a nice hot bath and help him out of his clothes, ignoring Tommy's fussing about it. ("Fucking fell out and pissed myself, surely I can undress myself without issue!")

With Tommy in the bath, you make quick work of washing him up. "Relax, Tommy, let the warm bath do its job."

"I can't. What if I have another one? What if I have one while driving? What if I have one in parliament and piss everywhere in front of God and everybody?"

Terror is evident in Tommy's eyes. You know his seizures and ptsd go hand in hand. You look at him, but his eyes have gone elsewhere.

"Tommy. Hey, come back to me. You'll throw yourself into another one if you don't relax. Shhhhh. There you are. Nobody knows, do they?"

Tommy brings his knees up to his chest, hugging himself. "No one but you. I feel so small and weak. It honestly scares me."

You hold Tommy while he sobs quietly in the bathtub. "Have you been taking the tablets the doctor gave you?"

"They're fucking useless, love. I still have them."

"Because you won't let them do their job. You hardly eat, hardly sleep, and you smoke like a freight train. You've got to take better care of yourself, sweetheart."

"Is that your diagnosis for me, doctor?" Tommy asks you with a sniffle.

"Yes, it is. Now, let's get you out and into bed. You need to rest. You always feel wiped out afterward."

This time, there are no complaints from tommy as you dress him in comfortable clothes and tuck him into bed. "Now get some sleep, Tommy. You'll feel better when you wake up."

"What if I don't wake up?" Tommy asks quietly, the terror set back in his eyes.

"Tommy, baby, don't think that. I'll be right here next to you if that's what you need. You have to sleep. I'll hold you for as long as you want me to. If you have another one, I will be right here as always. You are in the middle of the bed, so you won't fall off and get hurt. You are safe here with me, I promise. Now, please get some needed rest. I love you, tommy."

"I love you too. Promise you won't go anywhere while I sleep?" He is anxious like a child that just had a nightmare.

"I promise, baby. Nothing can pull me away."

Tommy curls up into your chest, breathing in your scent to relax him. You gently rub his back and listen to his breathing slow and ease into sleep.

[otterloreart]

someone on MLPTP asked for Lil' Litters puppies/kittens so I've been attempting them in the background.

More information about these sculpts (aka down the rabbit hole) after cut

The coloration of the models in my shots were based off the My Little Puppy "Pretty Poodle" family, but models were reused for other sets

For example, Sweet Spaniel family had the "blue poodle" model but a unique sitting spaniel, although it looks like the proportions + ears are the same as the other two

And then the next release had the "Funtime Spaniels" set which had the same poses but was more colorful, and also the puppies with the other "mom dog" sculpts:

The website Toysisters, where I got the above photos, mentioned that the entire second line of My Little Puppies is hard to find so I looked them up and

This was the only My Little Puppy 2nd year release I could find and its a single figure for $75.

Also in the 1980s hasbro purchased the rights to a Barbie competitor (originally made in the UK) called Sindy and reused some of the pet molds in pajama party packs:

And this one also sells for a lot and isn't really available in many places

I don't bring up the prices, btw, as a critique of vintage toy collecting or anything. I don't make these models because I think people should just make new ones all the time. I /like/ that we're preserving old toys.

Rather, I hope my sculpts are used for collectors who have part of a collection and can't find a real vintage one, or people who think it is sweet and want to make a custom one (like they could do their dog or just a fun new thing). It's just for fun and not a replacement

I think what really disappoints me about all the lil'litters characters is they don't have the colorful marks like the ponies. If you didn't know, the original pony marks were made to imitate the marks on an appaloosa horse

And to me, while they aren't the only reason the ponies did well, they're definitely one of the things that makes them unique, like the carebears stomachs or strawberry shortcakes' fruit hat

Like they made a dalmation dog and they didn't even give it like... heart shaped spots. Huge missed opportunity there imo.

Also they did the siamese in reverse dark-light colors and iut looks like a fox. Siamese cats don't work this way, they gotta be darker around the tips for a reason.

Hasbro did release a line called Little Pretty that had a similar conceit, but I find the sculpt of the toys... underwhelming. They look more like Proto-Littlest Pet Shop to me than My Little Ponies:

The one on the left is supposed to be a dog and I only figured that out because she has no ears, just hair...

I much prefer the Lil Litters sculpts, they look more detailed and unique to me, and more similar to the OG MLPs

the My Little Kitty / Lil Litters were actually released concurrently with the Little Pretty line, both around 1990, so the discrepancy in artstyle feels really weird. but also it's just such a weird choice to create two similar looking brands to me? I don't... get it.

This was also year 9 of my little pony so the brand was going wild with the ponies and its interesting to me how plain and early-years the dogs+cats were in comparison

they were giving the ponies neon colors, false eyelashes and built in pockets and decided that their other animal lines would just be... different colors.

anyways my send-off is here are the first releases of lil litters: