#my hair is ‘bitch you want to go how much lighter in one day?!’ brown

[dark-elf-writes]

First impression: sweet, wholesome person, much ✨gender✨

Current impression: parkouring racoon I desperately want to wrap in bubble wrap and feed all the treats too. 👹GENDER IS A THREAT I INTEND TO FOLLOW THROUGH ON👹

Also blonde, I know you probably aren't but you are inextricably associated now with a trio of feral blonds with buckets of ADHD (Mic, Naruto and Link) so congrats sovereign you are now blonde in my head.

I… don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome in my life like I was the kid that was reading massive novels at like seven and biting people so I’ve always been kinda feral.

Me trying to escape all the bubbles people want to put me in.

My gender has been a threat even when I was a tiny baby gay still in the closet who thought it was totally normal that the sight of my own chest made me mad uncomfy and turned those uncomfy feelings into screaming at transphobes at 2 AM at a birthday party. <- true story very wild.

ABAT - assigned blond at tumblr. Currently I’m in my blue hair and pronouns era but enough has faded that it’s kinda blonde in spots? Not a natural blond tho no matter how much it would make my mom thrilled that one of her children finally looked like her.

[sunthyme]

Okay y'all made the mistake of encouraging me so here's my headcanons and some ocs for Heartslabyul!

Sorry for how small it is but format-wise, I'll discuss the dorm leader, then canon characters in descending year order, then ocs in descending year order.

Also, decided to make the school co-ed because 🌸 girls pretty 🌸! And safer for Yuu. Additionally, as a general rule of thumb, if a character is the same gender as the og reference, I tend to make them transgender in some way.

Anyways!

♥️Riddle Rosehearts♥️

(she/her) Transfem - Panromantic and Demisexual

- Firstly, transfem Riddle has my heart so there's that.

- I made her mixed, probably British and Chinese, though I'm open to suggestions cause these are pretty much first drafts.

- From the get-go I wanted her to have hella freckles, idk they're cute.

- Also toned down her og hair, too many damn gingers in this house lol. Gave her grey streaks from her stressful ass childhood.

Next up,

♣️Trey Clover♣️

(he/him) - Bisexual

- I made him black. No particular reason other than his og skin was waaay to pale in contrast to his hair, in my opinion.

- The reason he and Riddle seem so close is 'cause he and Che'nya were the first to know Riddle was trans and he does his best to cover for her.

- Autistic, dental hygiene is a strange special interest but whatever floats his boat.

- Also, he still wears glasses, I was just lazy lol.

Onto

♦️Cater Diamond♦️

(he/they) Transmasc - Pansexual and Demiromantic

- Stayed more or less the same. Gave some lighter blonde streaks for 🌟flavour🌟. You can decide whether those freckles are real or not.

- The first of the Depression Club(tm) characters because I love Cater angst. Wait til you find out my kin list omg.

- If we're talking my college AU, he'd be a cosmology or cosmetology major, whichever the makeup one is idk. He was taught by an older sister (who works at a tattoo shop/piercing parlour) how to do piercings and is the primary piercer on campus. He did Trey's probably Riddles, Adeuce's lip piercings and more characters that'll show up later.

- The one natural ginger left in Heartslabyul (I hunted them to near extinction lmao). Also, transmasc. I think his mom really wanted all girls and was not thrilled about him being trans. Anyways!~

Ah, now for

♥️Ace Trappola♥️

(he/him) - Bisexual

- Made him half Hispanic, half Asian. No particular specifics (again, open to suggestions pls I love hearing others' headcanons). Also got some freckles, I fucking love birthmarks lmao.

- As mentioned, I'm on a crusade against the gingers /jk but I did give him dyed hair. He and Deuce dye their hair together, idk cute date idea tbh.

- Adeuce also got lip piercings together, even though Deuce tried to warn Ace that lip piercing aren't the best first ones, Ace insisted. Cue Deuce having to help take care of Ace's piercing cause he's a dumbass. Can you tell I love them? And their one collective braincell.

- Crippling ADHD, this bitch cannot sit still to focus on anything.

Speaking of Deuce,

♠️Deuce Spade♠️

(he/him) Transmasc - Gay

- He's half-Filipino, half Vietnamese(? Not quite sure yet) and I gave him dyed hair too, obvi.

- Gave him his momma's blonde streaks and some scars from his delinquent day, plus some piercings.

- Couple moles for funsies, and made his eyes brown.

- He is soooo AuDHD, people can fight me on that. On god, he's my son. Also transmasc, his mom is an amazing ally (she's probably bi herself nvm).

Onto my ocs!

🔮Oki Chiang🔮

Third Year - (she/her) - Asexual Aromantic

- So this is my girlie twisted from the Blue Caterpillar. She's not a smoker or anything but I think she's be a total incense and perfume and whatnot girl.

- Spiritualistic and whenever you walk into her room, it smells amazing. If you want a tarot reading, she's your girl.

- Oki's very reserved and tends to keep to herself, often reading or quietly sipping some tea with Riddle as they work.

- She's Taiwanese and also autistic. Her whole wardrobe is blue, so are most of her things and she love nice smells.

Next up is

🎀Luna Madden🎀

Second Year - (she/they/it/whatever, she doesn't care too much) - Bisexual Aromantic

- You'll never guess who she's based on /j. My Mad Hatter character! I didn't have a particular ethnicity in mind for her but she takes heavy inspiration from Harujuku fashion.

- She and Cater have to work together to dye her hair every time it needs touch ups. It's a huge pain in the ass but she likes how it looks and Cater is fine helping.

- Has acne and uses those cute lil star and heart cut-out patches to cover it.

- She LOVES bright colours and has way too much fun prepping for the tea parties. Owns a ton of weird and neat lil earrings that she likes to mix and match.

- Also has ADHD. I feel like that's obvious lol.

Now for

⏳Bunnie Chrona⏳

First Year - (she/her) - Asexual Lesbian

- Twisted from the White Rabbit, and a super creative name I know... I don't have a ton of explanation here other than I thought it would look neat.

- I was super close to giving her all white hair but I didn't want another character with dark skin and light hair (which will be relevant in later designs too) so I gave her a gradient. All natural, by the way.

- She's autistic too and gets extremely anxious whenever she's late or someone else is late (Adeuce constantly give her heart attacks because of this).

- She's also a part of the track and field club!

Last, but certainly not least

💥Ness Benoit💥

First Year - (she/they) Transfem - Bicurious?

- Last girl and she's based on Lock from The Nightmare Before Christmas movie. Spoiler, she is one of three triples, I assigned them to different houses, and they have an older sister based on the Boogeyman.

- I thought it'd be cute to give her little devil horns as a hairstyle and I made her makeup the same as the og characters'.

- It's been a hot second since I've seen this movie so I can't remember much about the kiddos' characterisations but my dad said Lock was the brains of the of operation so she gets book smarts.

- Also, her name is a silly little joke on 'loch-ness' because I was too lazy to try and find something else.

Thank you so much if you read until the end, this was a massive post to make. I'll make my Savanaclaw one tomorrow, hopefully. If I remember lol.

Love you! 🩷🩷🩷

[bruh-anator3000]

I wanna get back into writing but its so tedious, how do you do it? How did i do it so often last year? Anyways if enough people like this, maybe I'll finally do something with it

Warning; angsty lmao, viktor x reader, pretty sure its gn!reader so go ham, less than 800 words, get ready to feel the love ya mother never gave you points at mirror bc this bitch cried over this

Have fun :D much love <3

...

"Why did you break up with me?" You felt the words build up in your throat, making it so sore they fell from your lips like a damn bursting. "What did I do wrong?" What we had, I thought was something good.

Viktor stayed silent. His back faced you as his focus never left the mechanics in front of him. On his desk. All his focus and hands on it. His gaze on it. How could something so small keep his attention from something so important.

You scoffed. "Just tell me so I don't make the same mistake in future relationships, okay? Then we can pretend we never happened."

The machine he was working on clattered to his metal desk. It made a loud clunk as it dropped. His hands went into his auburn brown hair. Those dexterous fingers curled around his locks and you got the message.

With a sigh, you let out a soft 'goodnight, Viktor,' and headed for the door.

"You scare me." His accented voice carried through the empty lab. Your hand froze above the doorknob, mere inches away from freedom. Inches away from escaping the crushing weight the man had just dropped on your shoulders.

He shifted in his stool with a huff. "No, no...you terrify me." He let out a dry, emotionally drained laugh. Viktor dragged a hand over his face.

You cast your gaze over your shoulder, your hand dropping. Your heart was being torn up all over again. The same splintering notion as the night he took you out to dinner, stood abruptly as the words he had said and left. You weren't sure how to react. How was someone supposed to react to this? You couldn't yell, that would further prove his point. You couldn't ask him to reiterate, you didn't want to know more. It was you. You were the problem.

You always were, weren't you?

"It's the way you talk." Viktor started again. You shook your head, you didn't want to hear this anymore. Opening your mouth, you felt a choked sorry try to pry it's way out out your lips. But Viktor continued. "Every word, it's like a siren song and I suddenly can't think straight. You speak with such confidence, I fear I get light headed from the sound of your voice. How your tone gets lighter when you're excited. How it darkens when you're serious."

"The way you handle problems, the way your eyes get so intense with focus, the jealousy that overwhelms me wishing it was I who held your attention, wishing I was deserving of that intensity, it frightens me. Knowing I could spend days upon days here in these very labs on a project no one else could figure out but if you- if you asked, I would burn it to the ground in attempts to see you smile. If you wanted - if you simply asked - I would drop to my knees and let you take my very life."

Viktor finally faced you, golden eyes glazing with tears. "I'm scared of how passionately I wish to love you."

You were stuck in place. That was something you didn't know how to react to. Those words... how would anyone react sensibly unless it was scripted. Was this scripted? Some joke?

"Viktor..." You said his name and watched as a tear rolled down his hollowed cheek. His eye bags had gotten worse, his complexion paler than you remember.

He sighed, moving his hand to rest his forehead in the heel of his palm. "I'm sorry, you deserve someone better."

You said his name again, softer as you took a step closer. Again you said that name, that name you wished was connected to yours. Again, you took a step towards him. Another and another until your practically ran to him as he stood up.

He caught you in his arms, shaking with silent tears. You wrapped your arms tight around him, burrying your face in his shoulder, feeling so sad yet so full of love. He held you closer and his hand craddled your head, as if he let even a fraction of space between you, he'd loose you all over again. Apology after apology, in the language you knew well and the other you only heard from him, tumbled out of his lips. You only shook your head against the junction between his neck and chest. Holding him just as tight, fingers digging into his shirt.

"I love you, miláčku." His breath shuddered with tears. "Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted what was best for you."

"You are what's best for me. I love you, Viktor. I always have."

[asonofpeter]

Paging Dr. Parker

Pairing: Dark!Doctor!Peter Parker x Reader, Modern!AU

Summary: After encountering many doctor's visits, you turn to the unethical side of medicine. That's where you find Dr. Parker and he has promised to give you exactly what you want.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), slight dub-con (she gives consent but this is a patient/doctor relationship so its dubious), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, major breeding kink, Reader is a horny bitch, Reader calls him Dr. Parker, Peter is a soft dom, unethical medical practices, descriptions of medical procedures being performed, brief mentions of blood, medical settings, etc.

Word Count: 3484

A/N: It's the annual birthday celebratory smut! Can't believe this is the third year I've done this, but I'm so excited! I really was a horny bitch when I thought of this idea and I can't wait for you all to read it! This is a dark fic, so proceed with caution. Enjoy! 💕💕💕

It wasn’t like this was your only option, this was your final option. Regular medicine was too expensive for you. You needed to save every penny you had for the future and you weren’t going to spend it on a potential chance of getting pregnant.

This was your last resort as unethical as it is.

Dr. Peter Parker had been practicing for the last few years, an underground doctor you found after seeing an ad of his in the newspaper that read, “Dr. Parker, At Your Service”. Already quite sketchy. But even one of your co-workers from the graveyard shift at the 24-hour diner you work at referred you to him.

Something about him helping him and his wife get pregnant last year. You didn’t ask too many questions, but you knew it worked.

So now you found yourself pulling up to a quaint house in the middle of the woods upstate. You never heard much of going to a doctor’s house for an appointment, but like before, this was your final option.

Walking up to the house, the leaves crunched under your shoes and you slowly made your way up the three steps. There was a small porch, dark wood flooring contrasting against the lighter wood paneling of the house.

Maybe one day you’d live in a house like this with your child. One day.

“Miss L/N,” a young man with brown hair greeted you at the door. You had barely knocked on the door once but you quickly composed yourself, smiling at the man.

“Dr. Parker,” you said, taking note of how handsome the man was. The glasses sitting on his face perfectly framed his features, slightly emphasizing how his eyes would crinkle when he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you”.

“Pleasure is all mine, I appreciate you were able to visit on such short notice,” he stepped back to let you inside. “I know it’s unusual to have asked you to come up here, but I hope you’re quick to learn that my practices aren’t exactly the norm,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a hand to your lower back as he led you past the living room and down the hall to your right.

“I’m actually glad, most doctors haven’t been open-minded with what I’ve been wanting,” you chewed on your lip nervously, the warmth of his hand sent tingles up and down your spine. Your face became heated at the thought of how inappropriate your reaction was.

“Well, I believe I’m the most open-minded doctor out there,” he laughed, causing you to feel a lot better about being here. “If you could just change into a gown here, I’ll be back with a few things,” he said, handing you a generic medical gown before he walked out the door, leaving it an inch open.

You watched as the white coat flew behind him, his black slacks sculpted his strong legs perfectly and he walked with such confidence he had you swooning. Not to mention his blue button-down and matching tie.

You had to stop, this is a professional setting.

Pulling your clothes off, you managed to tie the gown behind you to prevent the doctor from seeing more than you intend to today. Although, you wouldn’t mind if he caught a peek or two.

Too distracted with yourself in your head, you were glad he arrived back carrying a box of exam gloves and a manila folder which you’re guessing is your chart.

“So what brings you here?” he sat on the swivel chair in front of you, clicking his pen.

“I want to take a fertility test and discuss possible ways of conceiving as quickly as possible,” you stated, your face becoming heated even though you knew he wasn’t fazed by your requests at all.

“Have you had any fertility tests done?” he asked, jotting some things down.

You subconsciously licked your lips at the veins that protruded on his hands. His fingers looked so strong and slender, your mind venturing to other thoughts.

“No, they’re too expensive at other locations,” you shook your head and dropped your gaze, your arms resting on either side of you as your legs dangled over the edge of the table.

“Which is why you’re here,” he added and you nodded. He wrote a few things down in your chart, brows furrowed before he placed the manila folder on the counter next to him. “No worries, Y/N, I’ll be sure to give you answers today,” he sent you that reassuring smile.

“Really?” you sighed out in relief. “Thank you, Dr. Parker,” you reached out to touch his arm and you saw the way his lips curled upward at the gesture. “What will we do?”

“For safe measure, I’ll take a blood test, a pelvic exam, and a vaginal ultrasound,” he stated and you nodded, a smile not coming off your face. You were too close to getting the baby you want, nothing could sour your mood.

“Great,” you hummed.

~~~~~

The blood test was quick, he was skilled as he drew out a few vials and he briefly left to get them tested. Now, you were resting on your back with your legs resting in stirrups while he was prepping you for your pelvic exam.

You were a bit nervous at first, the idea of bearing yourself to your very attractive doctor fueled it. If only he were ugly, you thought to yourself. But reassuring enough, Dr. Parker stuck to his professional practices and went on like normal.

“Should only feel slightly uncomfortable,” he said, placing the speculum at your opening. “Let me know if it hurts”.

You sucked in a breath at the cool metal, the lubricant doing its job and making it more bearable. It’s been so long since you had sex that this was even arousing you in the least.

Unless it was Dr. Parker’s hand brushing on your thigh that made you shiver.

“I’m going to start the pelvic exam, so just relax for me,” he noted and you could hear the squirt of the lubricant bottle again, your ears perking. What else is he going to put-Oh!

You felt Dr. Parker’s fingers. His gloved fingers slid inside you and pressed against your walls, feeling around for anything. You wouldn’t know what though, you weren’t the doctor.

As he continued on, you felt him push deeper, his fingers pressing against your cervix before he stretched his fingers on either side it felt like. He hummed as he felt around and you couldn’t help but begin to feel wet. And it was not because of the lube.

His fingers were strong and you tried not to squirm, but when he pushed his other hand down on your abdomen, his warmth radiating from him and the largeness of his hand. Fuck, you weren’t going to make it out of here without him knowing what he was doing to you.

Not realizing you were holding your breath, you let it outright as he removed his fingers, the speculum following suit.

“Everything seems normal, nothing out of the ordinary,” he removed his gloves, stood up and he smiled at you, overlooking your legs. “Now just the ultrasound and you’ll be good to go,” he hummed, grabbing the machine and wheeling it over.

You played with your fingers as you waited. Just one more thing and you won’t have to see him again.

With a pair of fresh gloves, Dr. Parker was back standing between your legs, the wand placed in his hand while he started up the ultrasound.

“Shouldn’t hurt, but let me know if anything is wrong,” he reassured you again before he proceeded with the procedure. The wand squeezed inside your walls, your lack of recent sexual activities really adding to your tightness. You just hoped Dr. Parker didn’t notice.

Glancing at the screen, you saw just black and white, your face pinched as you tried to read it.

“Unlike other doctors, I’ll let you know what I’m seeing as I go along,” he smiled, eyes locked on the screen. “Just like I predicted, your uterus is normal, fallopian tubes are great and you have a high egg supply,” he listed off, your heartbeat increases with each thing.

“And that’s all good?”

“Very good,” he replied, turning off the ultrasound and removing the wand from you. “I’ll get the blood test results and we’ll discuss,” he grinned, throwing his gloves away. “You can go to the bathroom down the hall and clean up,” he gestured to the opened bathroom door.

You thanked him as you walked in that direction, hearing him go in the opposite.

You were happy to wipe the lubricant and even your own arousal away in the bathroom, feeling more refreshed as you came back to the room. Dr. Parker came back a few minutes later.

“Good news, Y/N, you’re very fertile,” he announced, a huge smile on his face. “Your chances of getting pregnant are high, to be honest, I’ve never met a woman with more viable eggs than you,” he commented and you took it as a compliment.

“That’s great!” you cheered, clasping your hands together.

“Now I’m guessing you want to go through the sperm donor route, I have a few samples if you’re willing to glance over,” he began to say and you stopped him right there.

“I’m not willing to go through the donor route, I’ve already spent too much money with my other doctor visits, is there any other way?” you questioned.

“Ah, so when you came here, you really meant it as a last resort,” he replied, his eyes washing over with darkness that had you shivering. “Remember when I said I’m very open-minded?” he cocked a brow and you nodded. “I hope you can be too”.

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brows, glancing at him when he took a step forward to you.

“Let me offer myself, after all, I’m quite fertile myself,” he stated and that comment itself shouldn’t have made you flood with arousal again, but it did. You had to clench your thighs together. “It’ll be free of charge, unlimited tries,” he persisted.

“What do I have to do?” you gulped.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, standing in front of you so close you had to look up at him. “I believe our highest chance of getting you pregnant is to keep things as natural as possible, don’t you think?” he smirked, running his thumb along your face.

His words had your toes curling and there was no way you could lie to him and tell him no. You quickly thought it over in your head. He was a doctor, he could provide for you and this baby, and the lovely home he lives in would be perfect to raise a child in. Hell, maybe even two.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“Perfect,” he stated. He offered his hand out and you took it graciously, helping you down the exam table and out the room.

You trailed behind him, your hand in his as he led you back down the hall, right past the living room again, and up the steps.

The upstairs was nicely decorated, a simple hall with numerous dark wood doors aligning it. You wondered what was behind them, but most importantly, you wondered how many of them you would turn into children’s rooms.

“This house gets lonely when it’s just you, a bit too quiet for my liking, but I’m sure once we’re done, it won’t be anymore,” he opened a door at the end of the hall, your eyes widening at the beautiful, cozy bedroom inside.

It was literally straight out of a magazine, the dark wood paneling behind the bed was a nice contrast from the stark blue that decorated the rest of the walls. It felt very modern and cozy, to say the least.

“Your home is beautiful,” you complimented, grip still firm in his as he led you to the edge of the bed.

“Thank you, I take pride in the home I’m able to provide,” he trailed, moving his hand up beside your face to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Shall we continue?” he asked, hand holding the side of your face in such a strong way, it had your knees quivering.

“Yes, I must admit though,” you chuckled, sucking in a breath. “I’m out of practice,” you bit your lip worryingly, your cheeks washing over with heat.

“No need to worry, Y/N, all you have to do is sit back and relax,” he smirked, his other hand trailing down your back as he undid the knots of your gown, your back becoming completely exposed and soon the material was slipping down your front.

As naked as you were, you could only feel comfortable. Even with Dr. Parker’s intense stare, you only smiled when his eyes met yours again.

“I’ve never met a woman sexier than you, you are beyond beautiful,” he whispered, pulling you flush against him. “And to picture you pregnant,” he hummed, eyeing you up and down. “Lay on the bed,” he guided you onto the mattress.

Your back met the soft duvets, hands flying out beside you to feel them and you watched as he shrugged off his white coat.

The blue button-down he was wearing was completely straining at his biceps and that just showed you how fit he was. God, you were drooling already.

“Being an expert in this field,” he began, unbuttoning his shirt slowly but surely. “I know exactly what it takes to increase pregnancy, so do as I say, got it?” he cocked a brow and you nodded, ready to listen to what he said. “Perfect,” he shrugged off his shirt, leaving him exposed, revealing how beautifully sculpt he was.

The rest of his clothes were gone in a few moments, your eyes dancing across his frame while he undid every zip and every button. His briefs were the last to go. The room was filled with anticipation as he slipped them down his legs.

In reality, the movement was fast, but in your head, it was like slow-motion. Straight from a movie that had you bouncing with anticipation.

But soon, your mouth gaped wide open as you stared at his hard cock. It stood proudly against his stomach. The only reaction you had was to open your legs wide, gazing right back at him. Your bottom lip was between your teeth as you awaited him to crawl between your legs.

“Eager I see,” he smirked, wrapping his hand over his cock and pumping himself a few times before he made his way over to you. “So perfect,” he grinned, eyes lingering on your glistening core. “All for me,” he said as he climbed between your thighs, settling his face right between them.

A completely unethical situation you found yourself in, but you couldn’t find a shit to give. All you wanted was for him to fuck you and breed you in every goddamn scenario you could think of.

He teased you by kissing around your cunt, blowing warm air onto your clit that had you shivering. Each touch was powerful yet not enough. You needed more.

“The urge I had to just lick your arousal away with my tongue while I had you right there on the table,” he growled, eyes set on your pussy while he licked his lips. “You have no idea how much I was hanging by a thread”.

“Please, just do it,” you panted, the teasing becoming everlasting and you needed release.

Not another word and Dr. Parker licked a long stripe between your folds with his tongue. He lapped up your juices, mixing them with his saliva as he sucked on your cunt. You threw your head back, clearly out of touch when he wrapped his lips around your clit.

“Oh, yes, Dr. Parker,” you moaned, hand reaching to tug on his curls.

He moaned at the call of his name, his hands squeezing your thighs tighter while he held them over his shoulders. He was clearly skilled at bringing you pleasure just from his mouth and you were dying to feel more.

That snap you haven’t felt in so long was so close to breaking, but the tension was released and you grunted out in frustration.

“Shh,” Dr. Parker cooed, rising back up from your legs, his nose brushing with yours. “Patience,” he said before kissing you.

Swiping his tongue on your bottom lip, you quickly granted him access, your mouth filling with the taste of him and you.

Now if you were to say you never dreamed of this moment, you would be lying. Fuck, you knew he was as good of a kisser as he looked.

You whimpered when he bit your lip, pulling away just slightly to watch as he pumped himself while aligning at your entrance. You rested your hands on his shoulders, staring between you too, you tingled with anticipation and soon enough, he was inside you.

You gasped, throwing your head back at the stretch, your hands holding either side of his face while your fingers tickled the nape of his neck, pulling him close.

“You’re milking me already,” he chuckled, voice strained as he glanced between your interlocked bodies. “Patience, my dear,” he whispered in your ear, causing you to shudder.

His lips smashed on yours again, his arm wrapping underneath your waist as he began to thrust at an ungodly speed. It wasn’t fast, but steady and skilled, allowing you to feel every single inch of him.

And, fuck, the way the head of his cock would brush up against your g-spot was eye-rolling good. You moaned into his mouth, your hands running through his hair.

It was too primal, too intimate for this to be your first time together. Yet, that’s what made it all hotter. Being bred by a man you just met, no thought of any of the consequences just yet.

It was reckless and thoughtless, but you loved it.

“Oh, yes!” you squealed when he kissed down your neck and across your chest, his mouth brushing over your nipples.

“Your tits are gonna get bigger, so tender and plump for me to care for,” he muttered against your skin, teeth grazing around your soft skin.

You clenched around him at his words, a strain coming from him and he briefly paused in his movements. Loving the way you were making him feel, you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing around him again to feel him twitch.

“You feel so good,” you panted, voice quivering as you gripped his face to stare at him. “I want you to cum deep inside me,” you licked your lips. “Please give me a baby,” you pleaded.

He growled at your request, his eyes darkening before he pushed himself up.

“As much as I want to see your beautiful face while I breed you,” he sighed, pulling out of you and you whined at the missing feeling. “We need to make sure every last drop doesn’t spill,” he flipped you over, your face pressed into the mattress, his hands pulling your hips up to the sky.

As he pushed himself back inside of you, your body adjusted quickly to the new angle. It felt amazing. His hips rutted hard against your ass and the way you felt his balls brush up your clit was enough to get you going over the edge.

“Ah! I’m not gonna last much longer,” you winced, the pressure becoming too much. “Please, Dr. Parker!” you begged, hands fisting the sheets.

“I love the way you beg,” he panted behind you, one hand pressed against your back to hold you down. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he leaned forward, chest against your back. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want,” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your spine.

Another thrust of his hips as he shot his load inside you, your walls convulsing around him, squeezing each drop out as you came undone as well. He made sure to rut against you, just for safe measure, and that had your body quivering again.

Your shoulders held you up as you fell forward, Dr. Parker still sheathed in you and you swore you wouldn’t mind staying in this position.

Your breath was shaky as you came down from your high, face hot and sweaty while you felt Dr. Parker move you to your sides. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close. He smoothed a hand over your hair before he kissed your neck tenderly, his hand mindlessly rubbing your lower belly.

“I never offered myself to a patient before, Y/N, that’s how special you are to me and I will be sure to never let you go,” he whispered into your ear, your heart thumping.

~~~~~

Reblogs are the best birthday gift!

Tagging: @mandofan98 @bbymell @peterparkersgirlfriend1 @loveanndthunderr @lnmp89 @namoreno @bi-lmg07 @spideyspeaches @a-daydreamers-day @bigassnocash @runawaywithmyghost @mischiefsemimanaged @riddikulasdraco @alina02

[leiawritesstories]

Hi leia, hope you're having a great day❣️, I've got this idea, but I don't know if you already done it, here it is anyway,

Rowan coming home and finding Aelin had dyed her hair like this

Thank you!

oh my gosh I'm crying laughing imagining it right now, thank you so much for the prompt! 

word count: 1,150

warnings: 

What Have You Done With Aelin?!

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

Aelin had an idea. 

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. 

Which, in her book, was the best kind of idea. 

She’d been seeing so many photos of girls who dyed their hair dark but left blonde pieces right at the front all over her Instagram, and the idea had begun to form when she wondered how much it would cost to temporarily dye her hair the same way. So of course, she texted Lysandra, her best friend and favorite hairdresser. And Lys told her that for her, she’d do it for free, if only to see the look on Rowan’s and Aedion’s faces when they saw Aelin’s hair color. 

Rowan was at work. It was Aelin’s day off--she’d set her schedule so she worked four days a week in the office and was home the fifth day and had time on weekends to unofficially work on projects--and hell, now was as good a time as any. She had all day to get her hair done and get used to the color, and all the rest of the day to plan how best to surprise her boyfriend. 

So she called Lysandra. 

“Yeah?” Lys picked up on the third ring. 

“Lys, can you dye my hair?” 

Silence on the other end. Then, “YOU’RE GONNA DO IT?!” 

“Hell yeah,” Aelin laughed. “You said you had temporary dyes and I want to see Ro’s face. I’m doing it.” 

“Come on over,” Lys all but demanded. “I don’t have another client until three, we’re gonna do your hair.” 

Aelin was at the salon where her best friend worked less than fifteen minutes later. Lys met her at the door, babbling excitedly about what color they were going to do and how Rowan was going to fall over and have a heart attack. 

“Slow down,” Aelin laughed. “I’ve barely got to the part where you show me the color before I let you put it on my head.” 

“Bitch,” Lys snickered, swatting her arm. She opened the sliding glass door to her salon studio. “Come on in.” 

Aelin dropped her purse on the side table and settled into the chair. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Lys’s grin was positively gleeful. “Okay, so I’ve got a bunch of temporary dyes, most of them last a week to two weeks, or we could just do spray color, which will rinse out when you wash your hair.” She produced an armful of bottles in varying shades of dark brown. “What do you think?” 

“I want to do the temporary dye,” Aelin grinned. “Keep the color for a week or so and make Rowan very uncomfortable.” 

“That’s my girl.” Lys put the spray color away. “Now. How dark do you want to go?” She lined up the dyes in order from a golden brown to nearly black. “If you do lighter, the color will fade faster because it’s closer to your natural color.” 

Aelin considered the row of colors. “Dark, but not black.” She trailed her finger over the darker brown shades, landing on one that was a rich, deep shade, darker than her friend’s color. “This one.” 

Lys grinned like a madwoman. “We’re gonna have fun with this.” 

~

A couple hours later, Aelin left the salon with her hair nearly all dark, save for the few strands by her face that she’d left her natural blonde. Lys had dried and curled her hair after the dye, so it lay in natural, soft waves around her shoulders, the dark strands so foreign and yet...she liked it. 

She loved it. 

Rowan was going to lose his shit. 

Once she got home, she settled into their office to get a few things done on a project she was working on. As a marketing rep specializing in advertisements, she was responsible for designing ads for her clients, and right now she was juggling two bigger clients along with a handful of other, not quite as big-name, projects. Even on her day off, she had to tweak her ideas and write or sketch down anything that came to her mind. 

With her notes down, she shut her laptop and sauntered into the kitchen, thinking she’d make some dinner for when Rowan got home. She may not have been the greatest cook, but she was capable of making a number of foods without burning up the kitchen. And Rowan loved ramen bowls, which was one of the few things she was actually good at making. 

Probably because it didn’t involve much cooking. 

So she whipped up a couple bowls of noodles and chopped up their favorite toppings and had everything ready when Rowan’s car pulled into the driveway around six-thirty. 

“I’m home, Fireheart!” he called from the entryway, his shoes thudding onto the shoe rack as he took them off. “And I smell--” His words cut off abruptly as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

And found Aelin leaning against the countertop, wearing his favorite metallic golden nightgown, grinning fiendishly. 

“What the holy fuck?!” he gasped in a strangled sort of shock, freezing to his spot, the travel mug in his hand clattering to the floor. 

“Buzzard?” she asked, knotting her brows together in completely feigned worry, as if she didn’t know why he was so stunned. “What’s the matter?” 

“I--you--that’s--” He’d been reduced to spluttering. “Who are you and what have you done with Aelin?” he croaked, still gaping at her with his jaw slack. 

Aelin innocently smoothed her hands down the silk and lace of her nightgown. “Ro, you’ve seen this piece before.” 

“Fireheart,” he moaned, anguished, finally unfreezing himself and stepping towards her to reach for a lock of her hair. “Why?!” 

“Oh, the color?” she asked breezily. “I thought I’d try something different for a change.” 

Rowan dropped to his knees in front of her. Actually fell to his knees, pressing his hands together. “Please, baby, change it back,” he implored her, making his eyes wide and irresistible. 

Aelin cupped her hands around his jaw. “Ro, it’s temporary.” Her thumb stroked along his cheekbone. “Lys promised me that it would fade away within a couple of weeks.” She grinned wickedly. “It was completely worth it for the look on your face, though.” 

“You’re a menace,” he grumbled, his lips twitching. 

“Your menace,” she giggled. “Don’t you like it?” she teased, just to toy with him. 

“Nooo,” he mumbled, wrinkling his nose. “You’re--you’re not you with dark hair, Fireheart. I love you, but please don’t do that to me.” 

“Aww, did your poor old heart almost stop?” she cooed. 

“Pretty sure it did stop,” he grunted, standing back up and drawing his hands up along her sides, scrunching the material of her nightgown. “But this...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering darker. “This I have no argument against.” 

“Perfect,” she hummed, playing with the straps. “I know how much you love me in gold, buzzard.” 

That he certainly did. 

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic

[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Though I Can't Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love For You

Summary: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer’s kind of a sad bitch. Question: Why do I like writing sad Spencer?

Word Count: 2.5 K- ish

Author’s Note: prompts come from here this one is 4,8,25 from @shemarmooresfedora !! please go check out her blog on here and on Ao3!! Also, I’m stilling taking requests for numbers. I’ll update for which ones have been taken 💕

Though I Can’t Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love for You

Birthdays were always hard when all you had to do is go home to an empty house. No sounds of friends crowding the dining room table, no laughter from family members, no well wishes or pats on the back. All there is, is the stillness of silence and the emptiness of solitude. Spencer thought that he was used to it. He remembers the way the sun felt on his face the morning he woke up on his 18th birthday. His first thought wasn’t it’s my day, but it’s the day I put my mom away. The day Spencer became a man, was the first day he really wished he was a little boy again.

Ever since then, birthdays have always been a sore spot for Spencer. They just bring up sour tasting memories of his mother refusing to get out of bed or his father staying late at work to avoid coming home to a wife who doesn’t remember her own husband or a son who he can’t seem to understand. Birthdays, for Spencer, have always been just another day. Or at least, that’s what Spencer tells himself on the long ride up the elevator to the 6th floor of the BAU.

The bullpen is dark when Spencer walks out from the elevator. Paperwork and manila folders clutter the desks. Even Spencer’s workspace seems to reflect himself: frozen in time. He sits at his desk, a photograph of him and his mother placed at the right corner smiles up at him. A newer photograph, one of him and Y/N, sits right next to the one with his mom. There’s one with Derek and Penelope, one with him and Gideon at his Academy graduation, and one with him and JJ, who’s holding Henry. One of him and Luke at a bar, Penelope in the background drunk and singing.

Spencer loves photographs, but recently he’s been obsessed with them. Ever since his mother’s diagnosis, the fear that would ever forget the faces that find a home in his heart paralyzes him. These pictures may very well one day tell a much more older, much more grayer Spencer the story of his life. Today, in his mind, is another day closer to his fate.

His birthday means he’s another day closer to forgetting the way Y/N eyes sparkle when she drinks too much rose, or Henry’s laugh at Spencer’s magic tricks, or feeling when Derek calls him his brother. No one, not even Y/N, knows that Spencer has a drawer filled up of photographs he’s collected over the years. He can’t deal with forgetting the principles of electromagnetism, but forgetting his family? Spencer wouldn’t have anything left, but the smiling faces of familiar strangers, whose names are just out of reach.

Spencer rubs his eyes with the ball of his palm. He knows he’s not going to get work done. Spencer spins in his swivel chair and he’s nearly startled out of his quiet thoughts when his phone rings.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he says, swallowing his emotions as he shuts the drawer on the shiny faces.

“You really need to start checking your caller ID, Spence,” Y/N says, with a chuckle. Spencer can practically feel the way she’s smiling. For some reason, her teasing never made him feel bad.

“Well, what do I owe this pleasure?” Spencer asks. He drums his fingers on his desk, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“It seems like we have a missing person case,” Y/N starts, “6’2 male, brown hair, some say his eyes are green and some say they’re brown, so we’ll go with hazel, and he’s like ridiculously smart, but also kind of dumb for avoiding his girlfriend on his birthday,”

Spencer sighs as he launches himself into a long spin in his chair. He’s not surprised that Y/N is calling him; she’s always loved birthdays. She’s always been someone to someone. It’s taken some time to adjust to the fact that Spencer is Y/N’s someone.

“Are you coming to rescue me?” Spencer asks sheepishly. He leans back in his chair, watching the elevator. Y/N might think she’s slick, but Spencer’s sure he knows her better than he knows geographical profiling.

“Maybe, can you tell me how fast elevators can travel up to the 6th floor?”

Spencer opens his mouth, ready to fire statistics on top of statistics, but is silenced by Y/N’s arrival. Spencer tries to remain neutral, remain ambivalent about this day being something more than any other day, but Y/N makes it difficult.

As soon as her feet leave the elevator she launches herself at Spencer, not caring that he’s less than capable of catching anything. In a tangle of arms and legs, Y/N manages to sit herself on Spencer’s lap. His hand snakes around her waist; he holds her so tight that it’s almost like he’s afraid she’s going to get blown out like birthday candles on a cake.

“I can’t believe you thought you could sneak out and come to work, on your birthday of all days,” Y/N says quietly, she threads her fingers through Spencer’s hair. She likes how long it’s gotten and his curl pattern is almost fully restored to their original health from before he went to prison.

“How’d you find me?” Spencer asks, thinking that birthdays might not be so bad if they all involve Y/N sitting in his lap and trying to braid his hair.

“Do you seriously have to ask that? Only the Oracle of Quantico,” Y/N teases and Spencer rolls his eyes, thinking he should have known that Garcia would be the one to track his location for Y/N.

“It’s vaguely illegal for a federal agent to tap into those databases, especially for a civilian,” Spencer counters. Y/N, smiling at him, dips her head down to press light kisses on his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose.

“So’s an ex-Army Ranger giving me his key card to sneak into the BAU,”

“Luke’s in on this too,” Spencer tries to sound upset, but his heart swells at the thought of Penelope, Luke, and Y/N all instigating for his birthday.

“Of course he is, I had to bring out the big guns for my Spencer’s birthday,” Y/N quips. Her fingers climb up Spencer’s sides, tickling him. She likes the kind of laugh that he lets out when she tickles him. It’s a laugh that’s unguarded and full of life. It’s a laugh that doesn’t hold anything back. It’s a laugh that relieves the pressure that festers deep inside him.

Y/N’s hands may make him laugh, but nothing makes him beam more than hearing Y/N call him “my Spencer”. She says it so simply, like my doesn’t even exist, like it’s an involuntary muscle being flexed. For Y/N, loving Spencer came as easy and effortless as breathing.

“You do love birthdays,” Spencer says, looking up at Y/N. He spins them around in his swivel chair, giggling as she lets out a gleeful squeal. Spencer grows dizzy, but he thinks he’s dizzier from Y/N’s love than from spinning in his chair.

“I love your birthday more than any other day, even my birthday,” Y/N says, getting up from Spencer’s lap to pick up the canvas grocery bags she brought with her.

“I was never one for birthdays,” Spencer says quietly. Y/N, more than anyone, knows Spencer’s challenging past. She knows his fears and she knows his dreams. She haunts his every waking moment; somehow a mercurial threat and a constant promise at the same time.

“I know, but I’m sure I’ll make you grow to love them,” Y/N says, “I wasn’t sure which flavor you wanted so I got all of them. Wawa has a surprisingly good selection of Turkey Hill,”

She takes out three gallon sized cartons of ice cream. One coffee with chocolate chips, one butter pecan, and one Moose Tracks. She hands Spencer a spoon and a napkin before sitting down on the floor and opening a carton of the ice cream.

“I do love dairy,” Spencer says, eyeing the ice cream, but considering the consequences of eating the creamy desert. Spencer shoves the statistics about the effects of dairy on a 40 year old with lactose intolerance down and takes his spot next to Y/N on the floor.

He goes to open his carton of ice cream, coffee with chocolate chips, but before he can dig his spoon into the tub, Y/N grabs his wrist.

“No! Spence, wait. Here, take these. And you need to light it,” she says, plopping a couple lactose pills in his hand and digging out a pack of candles and a lighter from her bag.

“Y/N are you out of your mind! We can’t light something in the BAU, god, Emily will kill me,” Spencer says nervously.

“Spence, do you really think Emily Prentiss is going to give me shit for lighting a candle for your birthday in the middle of the office. That woman lives on the edge,” Y/N waves him off and lights a single candle.

Spencer, staring at the lit candle, listens as Y/N sings “Happy Birthday” to him. Sitting criss cross on the floor of the BAU, he watches as the candle light illuminates Y/N’s face. She looks almost ghostly in the dark with the flickering light making her eyes glow. Y/N wishes the song and grasps his hand and squeezes hard.

“Make a wish, baby,” Y/N tells him. She really believes in wishes. Spencer wishes he could believe in wishes. He desperately wants to believe that Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos are somehow tying knots in the places where his string has been cut.

But more than anything, Spencer can’t bear to forget the face of the women across from. He can’t bear to one day not recognize the way her hand feels in his. He can’t accept the possibility of Y/N being anything less than the person he knows best in this world. Spencer doesn’t particularly care for the metaphor of the light going out. But his fears are put at bay when Y/N leans over and pecks his cheek. He can feel her grinning against his skin and like some virus contracted through touch, it’s contagious. Y/N breaks apart from Spencer and motions for him to eat some ice cream. They sit, shoulder to shoulder, against the front of Spencer’s desk eating their ice cream.

“Thank you, for making my birthday special. It’s been a hard year,” Spencer says, letting the tension in the air speak for itself, “my mom didn’t remember me the other day. I hate seeing her like that,”

“I know, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much. That’s why you need to tell me these things,” She says, setting down her ice cream. Y/N places her hands on Spencer’s shoulders, guiding him to place his back against her chest. His head rests in the crook of her neck. Spencer can feel her steady heart beat against his back. It’s a constant, patterned drum amidst the chaos of his mind.

“Can we take a picture, you know, just to remember this day,” Spencer asks, his voice laced with trepidation. He can feel Y/N nod, and move to grab her phone from her pocket.

Spencer sits up and scoots over to open the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls out an old camera, one where you have to wait for the picture to appear on the print out. He likes the charm in older things, you really have to work for it. He likes the effort that you have to put into getting the picture made.

“Going old school, I see,” Y/N teases as she catches sight of Spencer’s old camera. He returns to his spot, snuggled against her back. Their legs stick out on the floor, his much longer than Y/N’s. Her arms snake around his torso, holding him tight. Spencer holds the camera out, facing them to capture their faces in some archaic selfie style.

The light flashes before Spencer’s eyes, and Y/N’s kiss on the top of his head burns a hole that instantly leaves him craving more. He’d let her draw any pattern she desires, as long as her kisses are the medium and he is her canvas.

“Can you tell me what you wished for?” Y/N asks, her voice low.

Spencer, looking off into the distance, makes a disgruntled noise. He can feel Y/N’s fingers crawl up his sides and her arms encasing his body. She’s shielding him from his demons, but little does she know that the most menacing foe is his mind.

“You’re really not supposed to, but considering you’re my wish I think you have the right to know,” Spencer offers, “I wished that I’ll never forget you. Never forget this life we made together,” He feels his chest constrict. Mentioning his fear makes it seem more palpable; more real.

“Spencer, have you felt that way for a long time?,”

Spencer takes a deep breath, letting the floodgates open.

“I’ve felt like this my whole life, Y/N. I’m terrified to forget you. To forget our children that I haven’t even met yet. Forget who I am. I’m terrified that I’m going to leave you behind in a murky past that I can never remember,” Spencer says. He chokes back the pain. He doesn’t want Y/N memories of him to be marred by fear and darkness.

“This is about your mom, right. Spencer, listen to me. I’ll love you even if that comes true. I don’t need you to recall my face to know you still got love for me. And you're not leaving me behind. I won’t allow that. I’m not leaving you behind, baby,” Y/N says, her voice the most soothing cure.

She’s a power mixture of biochemicals and neurotransmitters. She heals him at an epigenetic level and restores him piece by piece. Her medicine is love.

Or maybe her love is his medicine.

“I’ve never been this scared of losing something, because I never had someone to lose,” Spencer mumbles, he twists his head so his breath is warm against Y/N’s neck. Somehow in this twisted position, Spencer has never felt safer.

“You can’t lose something that can’t be lost, my Spencer. I’m not going anywhere,”

“I love you to the moon and to Saturn,” Spencer says kissing along Y/N’s collarbones.

Like the pictures in the drawer, Spencer tucks away the fears of the future. He swallows the threat of forgetting everything because the promise of love swallows him whole. He craves a future with Y/N with the possibility of forgetting who she is over the life he’d live if he left her behind.

She said it best, even if one day he can’t recall her face, he’ll still have love for her.

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[meryamthebadassbitch]

𝕯𝖎𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖆𝖚𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊 & 𝖈𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘// 𝖆 𝕵𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖐𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

Listen, bitch, is it fucking bad that I am addicted to 'Daddy Issues by the neighbourhood suddenly got a whole ass fanfic idea on my mind, so here fucking I am, thank you so much for the likes in my other disgusting fanfics and if you would like to share this one with your friend I would be happy since my mother told me if you have more than 55 likes on the next, I'll buy you a BTS t-shirt, I'm NOT FORCING YOU GUYS LOL, thank you and enjoy! oh, I'm planning on writing a Levi book on Wattpad tell me your opinion @meryamchaline45

Based on a song called: Daddy Issues

Warning: Blood, smoking, sexual harassment, daddy issues, mention of death, slight smut, harassment, Thief!Reader, Skategirl!Reader, abuse, abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST, swearing!!

abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST!!

(IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF, DON'T READ!! don't report this please you have been warned)

Munching the food quietly she thought of nothing but how Seoul looked beautiful at night, a small scoff escaped her lips as she paid for the delicious food, looking at her wallet sighing, no money left. Taking her skateboard she stole a cap and a mask on her way out her E/C eyes immediately wide at the sound of the cashier yelling at her with a bat in his hand about to catch, slamming the door open she ran down the stairs not looking back, the cold breeze hitting her face as she ran grabbing her skateboard she skated between the cars so the man wouldn't catch her.

Her father grabbed her harshly by the hair followed by her skateboard and bag in the other hand, throwing her out of the house in the middle of the streets, every neighbor not even daring to welcome her even though they could see the pain and fear in her E/C eyes, but worst of all they still dared to watch and film her out of the window, I know it must be rough? damn, right it is.

Jungkook was hanging out with his group as usual and it seems like they got out of the café, but stopped brutally upon noticing cops chasing a H/C haired girl and grabbed her, slamming her face harshly against the car in front of them, a wince left the girls lips as she raised her hand in the air as she yelled out some words "it's a water bottle, please !" but the cops didn't seem to care since they cuffed her and decided to take her with them, as they turned around the girl cold eyes met Jungkook's dark brown ones, and that was his opportunity to study her face, she had beautiful H/C hair which was pretty messy, S/C skin, and had blood running down her nose and a cut on the corner of her soft lips, and it seems like she got into a fight for what? a bottle of water.

Watching the scene happening in front of them he stared as one of the cops broke her skateboard in half earning a bloody scream from her. "NO! how dare you!" she yelled with rage in her eyes as she was about to attack the police officer and punch the hell out of him but couldn't since the handcuffs stopped her from doing so but still the girl fell on her knees trying so hard to grab hold of the broken skateboard.

Sitting in front of the police officer she stared into nothing but emptiness; blinking ever so slightly her throat dry and didn't even dare to ask for water, "can I leave?" she asked her voice cracking as she sat on the chair, wanting to just kill herself. Grabbing her bag, phone, and broken skateboard she walked out of the police station to the place where she usually slept, the park.

Surprisingly she got a job the next day, and that is selling some street food with an old woman, the job got pretty handy, well, at least she would have 10$ to eat something and have a single water bottle for the day and not die from hunger, packing some dumplings in the small box she grabbed one of the bags signaling to the women "I'll go take these and will be right back Ajumma?" a small smile was on her lips as she walked away holding the hot food in her hand, the aged women seemed to be caring for her and would always give her some money even though she was poor and more broke than Y/N was, but still considered her as her daughter.

Knocking at one of the doors, she could hear the sound of music blasting and laughter, smiling at the memory of her being the best dancer back at school she opened the door peaking inside, the sight of a group of boys she recognized when getting arrested she handed the pink-haired boy the bag, "Jimin-ah~ you pay this time!" said a brown-haired boy behind him with a boxy smile, Jimin slightly rolled his eyes before smiling brightly at the girl taking his wallet out, a Gucci wallet which looked expensive, not like she wanted to steal it but these boys must be rich.

Bowing one last time, she walked away making sure to thank them and have a good day, "Ajumma, no I can't take them anymore what about you, you need your medicine so keep them besides I'll be okay for one day?" she said pushing them gently with a small smile, nodded Ajumma defeated but still thanked the girl a 100 times. "it was nice working with you, Ajumma, but I think I should go to either Busan or Daegu, I can't stay here anymore or dad will find me and- you know? so I'm gonna need you to go right now to the pharmacy and buy that medicine, we worked so hard for that now go!" she said pushing her gently toward the pharmacy with a small smile, pulling her into one last hug she kissed her forehead before walking away, waving slightly one last time before continuing her 'travel' in search of some way to escape Seoul before her father takes her back once again.

Sitting beside the boy she took his cigarette from his hand throwing it on the ocean in front of her, as he was about to grab another one she threw the box on the water, "so, do you want me to teach you that this mother fucker is a killer?" she said chuckling slightly at how he hated her already for throwing his precious addiction, "anyways, I need your help?" she said out of the blue, Jungkook raised his eyebrow waiting for her to continue her words "we all know you're rich as fuck, and I need you to buy me tickets to Daegu?" listening slightly to her words he took a picture of the couple kissing inside a laundromat with his camera, nodding slowly she almost squealed but stopped upon hearing his next words "in one condition?" "and that is ?" "I'll help you sneak inside my ex-house and go inside her room, to the drawer and there will be my clothes" "fine, when?" she said agreeing with his plan.

Standing in front of his ex house, she nodded at him before starting to climb the windows and could hear the sound of him talking to that girl more like flirting, looking at the window she could see them making out on the couch she had, opening the room window she did as told opening the drawer and grabbing all his stuff, a ripped book, AirPods, music DVDs and laptop looking at the polaroid with Jungkook smiling she stuffed it inside her pocket before looking at the room one last time.

Walking down the empty road beside Jungkook she handed him her bag full of his stuff, "you give it back tomorrow, you know where to find me? stay cool." she said smiling while flicking him off, the maknae staring at the girl with a small smile, this was her way on how to say goodbye or goodnight, the boy slowly waved back taking his keys from his pocket, opening the door of the black mansion greeting his mother on the way who seemed to smile sheepishly at him "who's the girl?" "mom I just met her" Jungkook looked so done as he stared at his mother dumbfounded

Opening the wagon door she ruffled her H/C hair after doing her routine, jumping down the wagon, she closed the door making sure to lock it with padlock, walking down the road she hid behind the wall watching as the man turned around running she grabbed a croissant, hiding it inside her jacket, thank god, he didn't notice and no one seemed to be out yet this neighborhood was always empty. the girl didn't have anything to think of but only the fact that this month was rough, she would eat once a day or not for a week, the asshole of the policeman broke her skateboard her mother got her before passing away and now she's a very famous thief in Seoul, what a beautiful life?

Nah, she always thought of giving up and standing at the edge of one of these buildings surrounding her, letting her body fall and join her mother. but couldn't, she didn't want to die and also promised her mother. Cursing under her breath Y/N limped to the front door of the beautiful black mansion, the door was suddenly slammed open and a woman stood there with wide eyes full of worry, glancing at the H/C haired leg Jungkook's mother immediately pulled her in sitting the girl down, the girl on the other side was shocked 'is this the wrong house? no, I remember JK saying this is his house' she thought confused but could see him coming out of a room holding a box, the boy slowly sat in front of her and started treating her wound out of as she sat there defeated and stared at him, his black curly hair looked so soft and his perfume was just UGH ravishing.

The food in front of her immediately got her attention as she started eating fastly, Jungkook mom laughing slightly at the girl "how many days didn't you eat something delicious?" "2 months, but don't worry- I only ate ramen 2 days ago!" she said munching slightly, Jungkook could see how her E/C eyes showed hope and slight happiness whenever she's eating, the girl was shining slightly than the last time he saw her, she was about to attack a police officer for breaking her skateboard and next was her handing a bag of dumpling to Jimin.

Sitting in front of the pool they had, she slowly took Jungkook's lighter from her pocket she found back in his ex house, playing with it she wrapped his sweater around her waist to great some heat, it was freezing but she needed to clear her mind a little bit, she was thankful of them, they gave her food, treated her wounds, gave her warm comfy clothes and welcomed her to stay with them...

And how much the girl wanted to kiss their hands for that, they made her feel safe after 8 years of the trauma and problematic life she finally felt home. The sound of someone walking behind made her stop from playing with the fire, wiping her head behind she smiled slightly at Jungkook who held a blanket sitting beside her putting the cover around both their bodies suggesting for her to get closer and not be afraid.

The handsome boy slowly handed her the phone back, it was midnight, thanking him she opened her phone, 1 notification, that's odd. Frowning she looked at the boy asking whenever to do it or not, nodding at her she tapped on the notification, her dad.

-------------------------------- 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 🖕-------------------------------

Happy birthday Darling, you turned 19, don't worry you're still my little girl right?

Fuck you.

Dad.

Seen 00:00

Just before he could even answer her text, she blocked him and deleted his number feeling calm and free, clenching the blanket around her hand she looked away trying not to let her tears fall, not wanting to show her weak side in front of Jungkook who seemed to know the situation and reason why she was cold and wants to run away. His anger was boiling, how dare a dad do this to his daughter? tomorrow was his final day alive he swore to make him pay for what he has done to his daughter. "it's your birthday?" he asked waiting for her to answer the question or at least look at him, 'why am I feeling empty when she's like that?' he thought nudging her shoulder, nodding she looked at him straight in the eyes tears covered her orbs as she stared at him deeply, her walls breaking down as she finally let them fall after staying strong for years.

살아남아야 한다."~Namjoon BTS (방탄소년단) 화양연화

Jungkook stared at her with guilt in his eyes pulling her into his embrace the girl cried quietly in his chest letting it all out. Not even noticing she fell asleep in his arms.

Holding the notebook in her hand, she knocked on the door of his room, hearing a groan behind the door she opened it looking at Jungkook who was fixing his hair, giving him a poker face she closed the door behind looking around his room, "shit, this place is fire" "I know right?!" he said on the other side trying to tie his hair into a ponytail, chuckling slightly she walked toward him standing on her tiptoe, "give it to me" doing as told he handed her the tie, her fingers slowly trailed down his hair sending a shiver down his spine at how cold her hands are, but a small smirk raised on the corner of his lips as his playboy self started showing Jungkook suddenly turned around before she could even finish his hair, landing on top of her his leg between hers as their faces were inches away from each other, his bunny smile on his face as he innocently grinned at her as if nothing happened.

Her eyes were dull and numb, but they lit upon seeing his beautiful smile

Having an amazing plan, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer as she leaned in, her nose bumping his, with Jungkook staring at her parted lips not pulling away and liking the way how she pulled him closer, his lips so soft that she wanted to kiss them so badly but couldn't, twirling him around it was now her turn to smirk, she was on top of him grinning innocently while ruffling his black hair

"come on, time for dinner"

Walking down the streets of Seoul while listening to some music, she slowly walked into one of the cafes that lined up the street of Seoul. Pushing the door open the little bell at the door jingled when she walked in and the scent of coffee hit her like a truck, this café wasn't crowded and it was one of her favorites, for these past days both the teenagers got closer day by day and still couldn't open up to him yet, it was so hard. and it would be a terrible lie if she doesn't catch feelings for him. "hello, can I get an iced-americano please?" she said looking at the cashier taking out the money from her pocket she slammed it on the counter before making her way toward one of the tables, playing with the flannel shirt she burrowed from Jungkook the girl waited for her order, phone ringing she slowly answered the call

"Hello? are you fucking kidding me what has he done?!" yelled the girl hanging up, slamming the door open the girl ran down the streets

Jungkook on the other side drove in rage toward where her 'father' worked, sitting down on one of the chairs his feet tapping on the ground nervously as he glared at the ground, a man came toward him with a smirk on his face, Breathless with anger, he stood up and immediately punched the man square in the jaw he didn't care about anything at the

moment but to just make him pay for what he did to his daughter.

Dashing down the streets pushing past the people, everyone at first thought that flash just passed by them while it was just a girl running with panic in her eyes, walking inside the police station the H/C haired girl immediately pulling the boy into a hug, tears covering her E/C eyes, as she pushed the strand of hair from his face staring lovingly at him she cupped his cheek looking for any injury. Sighing she glared sharply at her father "you deserved it" she said spitting in his face one last time before walking out of the police station asking Jungkook if he was okay, driving back home in silence the girl thought 'why did he do that?'

Sitting him down she grabbed the first aid kit and some alcohol, it was now her turn to help him, "this will hurt, so grab my hand" sitting down in front of him Y/N gently pressed the cotton on the huge bruise he had in his hand not caring the fact he's hurting her hand due to the pain he felt, "I'm so sorry" she said out of nowhere not even glancing at him, wrapping the bandage around his bruised hand she tried to ignore how bad she wanted to hug him by trying to get up but Jungkook already beat her to it, with one simple fucking move. Cupping her cheek the boy pulled her back down and made her face him stopping her from moving, his hand pressing on her cheeks as his soft fingers caressed her ear sending a shiver down her spine, her legs suddenly became weak as she stared back into his doe eyes, his gorgeous orbs shining under the moonlight like a diamond in the center of a museum was everything for her

His Dior Sauvage perfume only made it worse, it was her favorite scent aside from coffee, she felt giddy and happy whenever she sees him and just want to squeeze him tight and never let go. but now it was her whole body burning like fire

"Y/N please, tell me what is going on and I promise I'll help you with anything?" he said looking at her E/C eyes back and forth still holding her cheek butterflies dancing on her stomach as she stayed silent not wanting to ruin this moment with her fucked up past, she was about to pull him into a kiss, the same feeling kicked in, she just wanted to feel his lips on hers for few seconds was is a hard thing to ask? the sound of the door slamming open made them snap out of their position and fall on the ground.

"dude..."

There stood the boys staring at them awkwardly, coughing she got up wiping her clothes from any dust making her way to her room "wait, Y/N you promised me!" "I'm sorry Tae but I don't feel like playing..." "no, you're coming now sit down" rolling her eyes annoyingly she walked back down and sat on the ground waiting for the boys to follow her movement. Watching as the bottle spun in front of her, the girl breathing hitched upon seeing the green bottle landing on her, slightly panicking she shot a look that could make the bravest of warriors scream in terror, but Tae who didn't seem to care, challenged her "Truth or dare?" "Truth" "what were you both doing when we came in?" "talking duh." her simple sarcastic answer only annoyed Tae more than he was and that made her smirk proudly 'i'm not falling for one of those plans, Taehyung' she thought raising an eyebrow at the boy who smirked back at her "then why the sexual tension, and you about to kiss him?" grin fading and eyebrow falling she stared coldly at the boy his blood running cold at the look the girl just sent him "i-i take that back" stuttered the boy still feeling her staring straight into his soul, the game continued but surprisingly it didn't land on her anymore.

Sitting on her bed, she pushed the blanket away from her cold body, opening the door slightly trying not to make a noise as possible, making sure to close it behind her before she made her way toward Jungkook's room knocking 3 times. Jungkook jolted up from his bed at the thought of Y/N and immediately ran to open the door, he was right, there she was standing slightly shivering from the cold but before he could even protest to give her something to warm up or say anything, she already pulled him toward the Kitchen, opening the fridge she slowly grabbed hold of ice cream box and two spoons, sitting beside him she stared at the clock ticking in front of her "wanna know why I always throw your cigarettes whenever I see you holding one?" she said glancing at the boy who already stared at her continuing her words "because my mother was so addicted to this fucker, sure, it revealed her stress but it also made her sick, we would always go to the rooftop and talk about anything that comes to our mind, that was until he decided to cheat on her out of nowhere and started going to clubs, she didn't find out by herself, but I did, I told her in our usual ted talk we had at night while watching the stars flicker, surprisingly my mom didn't seem to care since she already noticed his sudden behavior, so being a good mother she wanted divorce and when she told him I told her about the whole thing, of me coming home from school and seeing a bitch on top off him, he started doing it to her. Days passed and mom got weaker day by day and everything was becoming worse as she started smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day, and I don't want to lose you too after losing my own mother" she said scoffing a little bit at the memory flashing on her mind tears covering her E/C eyes.

Jungkook on the other side listened carefully and couldn't help but to intertwine his fingers with hers, and could feel her tensed up and her hand becoming warmer and not the usual coldness, looking at her he smiled happily at the sight of her looking at the moon through the balcony with a small blush on her cheek, as he was about to pull away afraid of hurting her she grabbed his hand back planting a gentle kiss on his veiny fingers and on top of the smiley face tattoo he had.

What are they?

A couple, close friends, just friends (pack it up, Adrien). She didn't understand why is the constant hand grabbing? cupping cheeks, the almost kiss in his room, He was so kind towards her and being his usual, bad boy self in front of the others?

Why would he like her anyway? she always thought of that which only broke her more remembering the fact she's going to run away and live in Busan and not stay with him anymore, her life was so confusing, should she stay with him or move away?

"Wanna know something?" asked the boy glancing at the girl who nodded at his question "you're living with me from now on, and this is the reason why," he said pulling her toward him by the hand, picking her up easily placing her in front of him and on top of the counter, with her staring directly into his eyes and his hand on both her side, the boy gently cupped her cheek. Heat rose from Y/N's stomach to her chest and behind her back. Jungkook's lips were getting closer and her heart decided to skip a beat, she could tell he heard it since the same bad-boy smirk came back on the corner of his lips. parting her lips she felt him washing over like a wave of warmth, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. The boys silently watched the scene happening in front of them Jimin and Taehyung taking pictures on the other side

the feel of his frame leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt nearly forbidden. He pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her knees gave in. Sure, she was a famous thief but in moments like these she's so nervous, he was her first kiss, what if it's bad?!. Her thoughts were stopped dead when his lips were gently pressed against hers, not knowing what to do she scooted closer toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck following the steps she remembered seeing in kdramas, he puts his hand on the back of her head and reassuringly strokes her H/C hair.

Heaven.

Pulling away gently the girl chuckled "you stole my first kiss-" "-and I'll do it again" he said cutting her off again with his lips on hers, a passionate and heated kiss made her melt in his arms, it was illegal for him to make her fall in love with him more with one simple fucking move. the next movement she made drove him crazy was the way her fingers played on his curly black hair, Picking her up his hand slid under her thigh, as he walked toward her room not breaking the kiss, closing the door behind them with his foot.

Jungkook's head rested on top of hers as he played with her H/C hair, "I never told you this, but do you know how much the Dior Sauvage & cigarette scent drove me crazy whenever I smell it on the outfits, I borrowed from you?" "oh yeah? new kink developed I guess" "yeah, I guess it's my kink," she said glancing lovingly at the boy in front of her, his fingers slowly pushed the strand of hair from her face as he smiled back at her, his fingers under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss.

"I'm in love with you girl with Dior Sauvage kink, Y/N L/N "

"and I'm in love with you too cigarette addicted bad boy, Jeon Jungkook"

[sp00kworm]

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth. 

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

 Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

 With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

 “Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

 Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

 Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

 The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

 “You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

 She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

 Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

 You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”  

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

 You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

 Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

 “Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

 “Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

 “I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

 “Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

 The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

 After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

 The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

 “Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

 The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

 Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

 In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

 A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

 Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

 ‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 5.5 (knj)

Chapter 5.5: “No. We had our first makeup.”

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N talk about their relationship.

word count- 2.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers, angst (😱)

warnings- none! just extreme fluff

a.n- This didn’t fit well in the next chapter but I wanted to end the angst in the last chapter on a better note. Let me know what you think.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

Namjoon awoke earlier than the sun the next day, his head heavy and his eyes sore, evidence of last night’s vulnerability etched into his features. Unlike most times you weren’t tangled up in his arms, instead he saw you on the other side of the bed, curled up in a fetal position, one hand between your knees while the other rested under your cheek, making your mouth pout. He frowned at how your eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in your sleep, making you look distressed.

Sighing, he rose up, walking to the other side of the bed to his luggage and digging around for painkillers for his headache. Before he walked to the fridge to grab water, he pulled the comforter higher over you, lightly caressing your cheek, his eyes trailing the necklace around your neck, the pendant resting on the sheets next to your hand.

He sat on the couch, pulling your laptop on the coffee table towards him and turning it on to be greeted by the proposal you were supposed to be working on yesterday. The document seemed to be littered with little comments, and he felt anger flare within his chest as he read them. He knew he was snooping, and he should just minimize the window and go on Netflix as he was initially planning, but he couldn’t help it.

Y/N, are you an idiot?! This is not possible! That is not how this company works

Please fix this. We know you are better than this rubbish.

Let’s discuss this when you get back from showing off in Detroit… this is nonsense.

The comments were too casual and berating to be from your staff and he could only assume they were from your board members. You never talked much about your relationship with the board other than the occasional complaint about wanting to buy them out to have full control, but Namjoon never expected this amount of disrespect from them. As he looked at your sleeping form across the room, he felt a bubble of guilt rise within him. Now that the haze of jealousy and self-hate he was in last night had disappeared, he couldn’t help but realize how mean he had been in his comments to you. If you were dealing with all of this from your board, you didn’t need to be dealing with it from him too. He wondered why you never shared this with him, as he rubbed his face and leaned his head back over the couch. He had seen you become frighteningly more stressed and tired over the last month but he always stopped himself from asking questions, thinking he was projecting his own troubles on to you. In hindsight, he should have known better. Over the past month, Harry had texted him twice to ask if you were doing alright, and even at drinks on Friday, Siwon had pulled him aside to remind him to make sure you relax this weekend. He should’ve known better.

He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about your relationship. It had started with a promise of honesty, of never hiding yourselves from each other, but somehow the distance and the stress had made you both recede into yourselves. Unlike Namjoon, you were the kind of person who never seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and he wondered if you felt similarly to how he had been feeling these past months with your work too. Were you also caging yourself in, afraid to share your stress with him?

“Joonie…?” You groggily traced your hand on his side of the bed to find it cold and suddenly last night came back to you and you feared for the worst. You had thought you had resolved your fight. Sure you hadn’t talked about it fully yet but feeling the emptiness made your heart stop. Was he gone? Shooting up, all traces of sleep were gone as you searched the room for him, eyes still puffy from sleep calling his name again, louder this time.

“What’s wrong? I’m right here, babe.” He walked over and you relaxed watching him climb into bed, his back against the headboard as he kissed your forehead, while you moved to sit cross legged between his long legs in front of him.

“Sorry.” He felt you shake slightly as he smoothed your hair to comfort you. You looked up at him, your palm coming to rest against his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Thank you for last night.” He gazed at you, hoping to convey his true gratitude, his hand wrapping arounds yours in your lap. People had always left him alone when he was in that headspace, and he was amazed that you had not only confronted him but managed to pull him out of it. “I’m sorry you had to see me that way.”

“Don’t apologize.” You looked at him sternly before a blush crept on your cheeks and you averted your gaze to your joined hands. Now that he was in a better place, you felt your guilt from last night coming back. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made it hard for you to believe that I love you.”

“It’s not that… I think I just had a fucked up idea of how girlfriends show love.” He smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I just got insecure about you not being jealous or territorial… I don’t know. It’s pretty dumb” He chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh… I was jealous.” You looked at him with wide eyes as he looked at you with shock. He was sure you were trying to placate him but he wanted to hear your reasoning. “I… I rationalize my feelings. I don’t go off the first thing, you know?” You shrugged sheepishly as you continued. “I feel a thing and then I go ‘hmm wrong reaction, let’s fix that’ so yeah of course I was jealous, are you kidding me? But then I thought it wasn’t an adult response to feel like that so I pretended till I was okay with it.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at that. He spent two days feeling like he was defected for being jealous of random men, even Yoongi. Of course you had more restraint over your emotions than him. He was in awe of you and he felt like a complete idiot. He leaned forward to pull you closer, arms around your waist to pull him to his chest and kissed you once, before you pushed him off.

“Hey! Stop laughing at me! I’m being vulnerable here!” You pouted, moving your arms around his neck. You knew he wasn’t laughing at you and you were glad he took your confession so well. To be completely honest, you had always felt your trait of rationalizing your feelings was your worst - it created a rift between you and other people who often deemed you as cold and heartless. It pained you that this same trait had made Namjoon so insecure.

Namjoon to his credit, stopped laughing immediately, instead looking at you with a fond smile. “I’m sorry baby. I’m laughing at myself - at how much of an idiot I am.” He once again kissed you, his lips moulding to yours, moving languidly. “I can’t believe that was my barometer for your love. Shit, I’m a fucking idiot.” He giggled, his lips a few centimeters away from yours.

“You’re not an idiot, Joonie.” You frowned a little, cupping his face as you looked into his deep brown eyes. He poked lightly at the corner of your mouth, hoping to remove the frown, looking at you seriously before speaking.

“I hope you know, you don’t have to filter yourself for me, Y/N. You can tell me if you feel jealous or stressed or sad or angry or whatever. I won’t ever judge you.” You felt lighter hearing his words, even though you knew that by now your feelings filter was pretty much an automatic response, it felt nice to hear that you didn’t need to be as careful around him.

Seeing your smile, Namjoon kissed you again, moving your backwards till you laid down under him. His kisses were relaxed, slow, as if he had all the time in the world, and it made your heart blossom. However, you knew that you still needed to talk about his feelings from last night. It wasn’t like you to let things stew, and so before things could get more heated you suggested going to the roof to watch the sunrise. Namjoon finally agreed after a few more lingering kisses, both of you changing into your hoodies and sweats before walking up to the rooftop.

You both laughed when you reached the top of the stairs at the obscenely large no entry sign that was much more evident now that you weren’t in a wild haze of emotions. Choosing to pointedly ignore it once again, you open the door to walk to the edge of the railing. It seemed that the rain last night had cleared the air, the cool morning breeze feeling fresher as you looked over downtown Detroit, the first rays of sunlight breaking over the shiny skyscrapers.

After a few minutes of enjoying the view, you turned to your boyfriend, intertwining your fingers. He had a small smile on his face as he looked over the city, his other hand under his chin, elbow resting on the railing. The first few rays of sunlight reflected off his face, making him look almost ethereal. “Joon, can I ask you something?” Still looking at the view, he hummed in approval. “Why didn’t you tell me you collapsed last week?”

“Probably the same reason you didn’t tell me how hard your board was hounding you for this proposal.” He looked at you pointedly, squeezing your hand, as you let out a sigh.

The cat was out of the bag for the both of you. It felt odd to talk about your stresses after so long, and therein lies the problem. The two of you started this long distance with promises of keeping each other updated but started rethinking that as soon as the stress piled on. Neither of you wanted to burden each other with your stress, but the more you both talked about it you realized the two of you had just been disrespecting each other, assuming the other couldn’t handle your reality and taking away their autonomy to make that decision. You both talked in hushed whispers as if discussing a shameful secret. Well, you guess it was pretty shameful the way you had been hiding in the bathroom at work to avoid talking to people, or that your one glass of whiskey after work had turned to four.

Namjoon assured you he wanted to share your burden and he wanted to share his with you too. He told you about his own shame - of trolling the internet for self-esteem destroying messages - chuckling at your proclamation that you would report every single message till they didn’t exist. It felt nice to finally tell someone, tell you, about his tortuous midnight habit. He also shared his stress about interviews, the anxiety that comes with having to translate for everyone and making sure he does the good job at representing not only his band but his country internationally.

“Okay this cannot happen again. We can’t fuck our communication up this bad every time we do long distance!” you exclaimed after almost two hours of you catching each other up on your less than ideal month. Namjoon was now sitting on the floor, back against the railing as you sat between his legs, your back on his chest and his chin resting on your shoulder. You squeezed his hand in yours. “We need to strategize how to be better!” You turned sideways as Namjoon burst out laughing.

“Damn you really are a CEO. You want to strategize our relationship?” Namjoon had calmed down enough to look at you incredulously.

“Joonie! I’m just trying to make sure we don’t fight again. I didn’t like it.” Namjoon sees your face fall at that as you look to the ground, a little sigh escaping, before he lifts your chin to look at you. You looked at him sadly. “We really had our first fight, huh?”

“No. We had our first makeup” He looks at you with conviction, eye contact not wavering in the least before he kisses you softly on the lips, watching a small smile evaporating your frown. “Okay let’s do it. What’s your strategy, boss?”

And so the two of you came up with three rules to foolproof the rest of your long distance. One, you switched your calls from goodnight to good morning calls, when both of you had enough mental semblance to stitch a proper sentence together (and so you could scold each other if you ended up pulling unnecessary all-nighters). Two, you would never assume the other person was not mentally ready to hear about your stress but would instead ask if they were okay with listening to you. You were to never assume you were a burden on the other person, because you both wanted to support each other. And lastly, your safewords were no longer for the bedroom, instead you both decided to use the colour system on your fights or heavier conversations, giving each other the opportunity to call yellow or red on a topic you weren’t ready to discuss. You didn’t know if this strategy was the best, but you would never know unless you tried it out.

With the sun getting higher and your stomachs growling for sustenance you decided to stand up, looking at the view one last time before venturing downstairs. The city was alive, cars moving around, people rushing to their Sunday plans. It was beautiful. You leaned back, closing your eyes as you took in the sun. “Ah! Healing rooftops!”

“You know, I don’t get the ‘healing power of rooftops’ thing you have.” Namjoon looked at your blissed out face as he put his arm around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at the view, thinking of last night. “All I see are empty offices. Doesn’t it feel lonely?”

“Nah, Joonie. You’re looking at it wrong. For every empty office that means that that person is home safe with their loved ones. Isn’t that the opposite of lonely?” He was taken aback by your positive spin on the situation. He smiled at you warmly as his arms tightened around you. He loved that even though you always said you were cold and people called you Ice Queen, all he ever saw was a soft-hearted optimist. He kissed your cheek as you giggled.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Joonie.”

————

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[calpalirwin]

Nicest Asshole You’ll Ever Meet

Request: May I request a Lip Gallagher X Fem!Reader fanfic? Maybe set during season 1 or 2? Y/N is Kevin’s little sister and gets jumped on the south side. She gets badly beat up and barely makes it back home to her brothers house. No ones home so she goes to the Gallagher’s and Lip answers. He patches her up and it’s cute and fluffy. Maybe she falls asleep in his bed and they end up cuddling and then sharing a blunt? (You don’t have to add the blunt if you’re uncomfortable) Thank you love :)

Word Count: 1.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

You cursed as you stumbled your way down the street. Kevin was gonna have a field day when he saw you. It wasn’t your fault you had broken the single rule he’d given you. You hadn’t started the fight. Why the fuck would you with odds like that? 5 to 1 was hardly fair. And while they had landed their fair share of kicks and punches on you, you held your own. Kevin had said that you couldn’t start any fights, but he never said anything about finishing them.

“Jesus? Get hit by the L? You know you’re supposed to stand behind the yellow line right?” a voice quipped, and you turned to find the eldest Gallagher boy sitting on his front steps, a cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Reckon I’m still better lookin’ than you, Lip.”

The boy scoffed, before dropping the cigarette and snuffing it out with his boot. “C’mon,” he said, rising to his feet and jerking his head toward the house. “I’ll help ya get cleaned up.”

You waved him off, “It’s fine. I’ll ask V for help.”

“She’s not home. Neither is Kev. Alibi.”

“Shit.”

He shrugged. “So, you comin’ or not?”

“Fiona or Ian home?”

“Nah. Work.”

“Debbie? Carl? Liam? Fuck, Frank?”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ nanny? No. I’m the only one here. Why? You afraid of me or something?”

“Pffft, no…”

Lip smirked. “Oh, I get it. Alright. Did Kev tell you to stay away from me? That’s rich… What did he say? Like the reasons?”

“He said you’re too smart for your own good, and that you’ll use those smarts to get into every girl’s pants.”

The boy laughed. “Yeah, he’s probably right. But he’s gonna be mad either way. You might as well be cleaned up when he flips his shit.”

You blew out your next breath in a huff before crossing into the yard, officially in Gallagher territory, and following Lip into the house.

“Just have a seat,” he said, nodding at the couch before jogging up the stairs.

You complied, whatever adrenaline you had finally fading your body, pain taking its place. You wondered briefly if you looked like how Lip had said you did; like you had been hit by a train. You definitely felt like you had.

You turned to the sound of Lip’s boots thundering back down the stairs, a first aid kit in his hands. His crystal blue eyes studied you carefully as he shook soft brown locks of hair out of his way. “You’re bruised pretty badly, but I don’t think any of your cuts need stitches so that’s good. And nothing looks broken. So, what happened?”

“Stupid girls,” you hissed through your teeth as he started dabbing at your face with an alcoholic wipe.

“Hold still. Sooner I’m done, the better.” One of his hands came up to cup your chin to keep you from flinching away, his hold surprisingly gentle. “Stupid girls did this? Like from school?”

“Yes, like from school.”

“Did you get them back?”

“Sort of. 5 to 1 makes it a little hard to do much besides get your ass kicked. But I finished it, if that’s what you’re asking. And they jumped me. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk into odds like that.”

“5 to 1? Shit… so this was Leah, and her stupid fuckin’ friends?”

“That would be them.”

“Which means it’s Tyler’s fault. And Kev warned you about me? Damn…”

“Tyler’s a piece of shit who’d flirt with a rock if it’d flirt back.”

“Pretty sure he has.”

You laughed, then winced, clutching your side. “Don’t make me laugh, asshole.”

“Let me see,” he said, his hands falling away from your face.

“What? No! Are you insane?”

“Oh, relax. I’m not even gonna see your bra, much less your tits. Now lift up your shirt or I’ll do it for you.”

“Fine, fine,” you grumbled, pulling up on your shirt, both of you sucking air through your teeth at the sight of a giant splotch of purplish blue.

“Don’t bite my head off, alright?” he asked, his fingers hovering over your exposed skin.

You squinched your eyes shut, breathing harshly. “Do it.”

His fingers grazed across your ribs, again with a gentleness that took you by surprise. “Probably just badly bruised. That, or you have a really high pain tolerance. Or you’re a really good liar.”

“All of the above,” you grinned sarcastically, dropping your shirt.

“Well, not a whole lot for you to do besides rest.”

At the mention of rest, you became aware of just how tired you were. “Yeah. Rest. Sounds good. Thanks, Dr. Lip.”

“Anytime. C’mon, I’ll help you upstairs.”

“Excuse me?”

“What? You need to rest. And I’ve slept on this couch. It’s not exactly comfortable. You can use my bed upstairs.”

“Or I could go next door. To my bed.”

“Where Kev will find you all bloody and bruised? Nah. Plus, it’s too far.”

“Stubborn fuckin’ Gallaghers…”

“Hey, this stubborn fuckin’ Gallagher just played doctor, and offered you his bed.”

“Where he can play more doctor? Pffft, yeah right. I’m fine here.”

Lip’s eyes rolled. “I promise to not sleep with you. There. Now, are you gonna move on your own? Or do I gotta carry you up there myself?”

“Fuckin, Christ…” With his help, you made your way up the stairs and into a room with a single bed pressed against one wall, a bunk bed perpendicular with it against another wall. “It’s not the top bunk, is it?”

“No, it’s that one,” he said, nodding at the singular bed.

“Well, thanks I guess. For everything.”

“You’d be surprised how often I do this,” he tried to joke as you got settled on the bed and he fiddled with something at the desk.

“Play doctor to all the banged up kids in the neighborhood, huh? Wow, way to make a girl feel special.”

He gave a short laugh. “Have Carl as a sibling, and nobody would ever need med school.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a lighter. He brought whatever it was he’d been fiddling with- a blunt you now realized- to his lips, lighting it and taking a deep hit. “Here,” he breathed, passing it your way.

You took a hit, welcoming the hazy cloud the enveloped you, feeling the bed dip as Lip crawled in beside you. “I thought you weren’t gonna sleep with me,” you pointed out as you handed him back his blunt.

“Do you see me stripping?”

“No…”

“Exactly. I may have offered you my bed, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna sleep on my fuckin’ floor. I’m nice, not a gentleman.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘asshole’ actually.”

“Nicest asshole you’ll ever meet.”

You took turns passing the blunt back and forth, your back pressed against his chest as you crammed together on the small bed. “Fuckin’ bitch,” you cursed Leah and her friends when you took a hit that left you sputtering, the coughs causing your sides to ache.

“I can fuck Tyler up if you want,” Lip offered. “And I can talk to Mandy about helping you with Leah. Like I personally won’t fight girls, so she’s my go to for that shit. Needed her help back when Debbie was getting bullied.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, cuz that’s what I need. More problems.”

“Well at least start walking with us then.”

“Aw, is Lip Gallagher offering to protect sweet little me?” you cooed.

“We look after our own,” he said as easily as if he was telling you the sky was blue. The bed creaked as he reached over you to turn off the lamp on the desk, before he settled behind you again.

You lay there wondering just what your brother had been thinking in telling you to avoid the boy. Sure, he had more charm and smarts than he knew what to do with. And he was a certifiable asshole. But he was a nice- and admittedly very cute- asshole. And you felt safe with Lip’s arm thrown gingerly across your waist, and his slow even breaths lulling you sleep.

__

Tag List

@thanossexual​ @markofdean79​ @philthepegacorn​ @youngblood199456​ @tarltongrl96​ @ineedmorefanfics​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Three

Brought to you by: insomnia and the note that I had hurt someone with the last chapter. Also sorry I wrote this on my phone so typos.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

It’s.

Not.

Serious.

So, the next morning when you’re coming out of your apartment and you turn and see a leggy red head with her hand draped around his waist, you keep your eyes averted. You think quiet thoughts. You contemplate making a face like you forgot something so you can rush back inside and wait for them to pass. But just before you can imagine what facial expression could best convey “aw fuck, forgot my wallet” he turns and you catch his eye.

For half a second, its tense. Then, in an act that even amazes you, you smile at him, like he hadn’t just used you and your body and your fucking beer (which was expensive, by the way) as therapy nights earlier.

”Hey Javi,” you say. You pull the key from the door and stand up straight.

“Hey,” he says softly, not sure if he’s just been caught or if you really are this casual. To seal the deal, you check to make sure his date is looking up and elsewhere before you point to her and make a show of checking her out. Turning back to Javier, raise your eyebrows and hold up your hand, curling your forefinger down to your thumb in the universal sign of nice (👌). The dumbfounded look on his face makes you genuinely laugh, and you stride past the two of them with a smile.

“See you later, neighbour.” You call back without turning around. You don’t wait for a response before you let the door close behind you, and you’re stepping out into the sunshine.

You’re surprised you don’t fall asleep at your desk that day. Your neck is still aching from your sleep on the couch Sunday night, probably the second worst decision you made with your body all weekend. When you return to an empty stoop, you’re almost grateful he’s not there, sitting casually like he had just happened to choose that spot to sit and smoke. God, you really had been easy for him. One night of getting drunk and giving in and now you had to spend the rest of your tenancy pretending to be the cool girl neighbour who doesn’t care that he wallmate fucked her and chucked her.

Twice.

Its not surprising, really. Men have done this before to you, and while it sucks you should know better by now to view these kind of guys as the ones you use just as much as they use you. The only thing really hurting here, you think, is your stupid ego. It’s not even like you were going to try and date the neighbour. You didn’t really want to date anyone.

You stop in your tracks, midway up the stairs.

Yeah, actually- what were you complaining about?

You had a hot neighbour who was good in bed and showed he had no qualms about letting you crawl in with him. He wasn’t pressuring you to tell him how you felt, or dragging you out on dates you didn’t want to go on, or playing passive aggressive little mind games with you. He was just fucking you. And sharing cigarettes. Sure, maybe he came over and dropped some heavy emotional labour on your lap every once in a while, but he had paid you back for your time by making you cum so hard you honestly think you lost vision for a few seconds. And you actually did like hanging out with him on your little routine smoke breaks. Yeah. Yeah! This actually worked out really well for you, now that you thought about it critically.

Pleased with yourself, you wander over to your corner and pull a cigarette from your purse, bringing it to your lips. Just as you light it, from the corner of your eye you see a patch of blue walking your way. You look up and see Javi just as he notices you, making his way towards the steps. You smile and press the lighter into your pocket.

”Hey stranger,” you tease. His face is still a bit confused as he looks up at you once, ascending the steps.

“Hey,” he says, coming to stand beside you. He reaches into his own pocket and pulls out his pack. He pats himself down and you roll your eyes, pulling the lighter from your pocket and holding it out to him. He smiles when he sees it and takes it from your hand and, despite yourself, you smile too.

”Thanks,” he says before clicking the lighter and holding the cigarette out. He hands it back to you and the two of you stand in silence for a moment, watching the sunset across the sky.

”Some kid got glue in my hair today,” you say, taking another drag. You turn to look at him. “Lorenzo.”

“The one with the eye?”

You he told him about Lorenzo’s fake eye.

”Yeah,” you say, trying not to seem to impressed he remembered. “Took forever to get it out.”

Javier nods, taking a long drag.

“We arrested Escobar today,” he deadpans.

“ What.”

He turns back and smiles.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You smile, letting out a huff as you shake you head.

”Got me.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

You turn and see the preschool teacher - Maritza, you think - standing to your left. You had been in such a daze as you waited for the coffee machine to finish you hadn’t noticed her come and stand next to you. She was a cute, small woman with big brown eyes and severe bangs, and the way she looked at you now reminded you of a little kid waiting for their parent to give them the present behind their back.

”Probably getting drunk at home and watching bad tv,” you say, turning to face her. “What’s up?”

“A few of us are going out tonight,” she says. “We thought you’d like the join.”

You stop and think of all the reasons going out now, on a Friday night, with a group of other women, in the middle of one of the deadliest cities in the world, would be a bad idea. But you also think of the three day old arepas waiting for you at home and the empty, stale apartment air you’d be eating them in. Your last few months had fallen into such a boring routine (with obvious exceptions) that you had completely forgotten going out was even a possibility. You told yourself you would wait until you had a group of friends to go out with, just to make it safer, but the only person you had gone out with was Javier, just that once.

“Come on,” she said, her round face breaking into a cute smile.

You found yourself smiling back.

”Yeah, why not?” you say.

Maritza tells you she and her friends will catch a taxi over to yours around 8. Ridiculously, you feel giddy as you catch yourself hurrying home. While you had only had a few pleasant exchanges with Maritza over recess, she had the kind of chaotic energy that accompanies all women who voluntarily spend most of their time with children under the age of six, and in your experience those were the bitches who always got the wildest. You were negotiating with yourself how drunk you’d let yourself get when you turned and walked up the stairs, barely noticing Javi in your smoke spot before he called out to you.

”Hey hermosa,” he said. You snapped your head back up, your concentration on whether or not there was really that much of a difference in your behaviour depending on three to four drinks shot. You were just compromising with yourself that it really depending on the liquor when he had called out to you.

”Hey,” you smile, coming to a stop beside him. He holds out a cigarette to you and you take it, popping it in your mouth. Before you can ask he’s got the lighter, and you lean in for a light.

“Want to grab a drink tonight?” He asks once you’ve settled into your spot beside him. You shake your head.

”Can’t. Got plans.”

”Oh yeah?” He turns to consider you. You give him a nod, unable to suppress the smile.

”Girl’s night,” you say. “Preschool teacher asked me to join.”

”The one with the bangs?”

You had told him about her bangs.

”Yep. The popular girls noticed me.”

“Where are you going?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Nope. You are not invited.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t-”

“Oh sure,” you say.

“You should just be safe, is all.” He says. “Stay out of certain places, you know, walk home together.”

“Believe it or not, this is not my first night out of the house ever.”

He frowns. “It’s dangerous. Just be smart.”

“Thanks mom,” you take a drag and turn towards him, your arms crossed. “And what shout I tell Bobby if he wants to go all the way?”

He scoffs and you break out in a grin. Shaking his head, he tosses his filter and moves around you, making for the door.

”Fucking smart ass.”

You’re always too eager to be on time. It’s a bad habit. It always ends with you showing up to parties too early and then it’s just you and the host making small talk over the fruit salad they thought they had at least another half hour to make. Whatever. Tonight that means you just get to spend the next hour looking really hot in your own apartment.

You find yourself standing still for a moment, wondering what you should do. Sitting down and reading seems like a weird thing to do when you’re dressed like this, but neither does sitting and watching tv. You wish for a minute you had been more picky about make up or hair but everything has set and you don’t want to risk fucking with it. You make for your kitchen and pull the bottle of tequila from the cabinet, reaching to grab a glass. You take a quick shot and are about to pour another when an idea runs through your head. You walk down and across to the wall opposite of the couch and knock three times.

You hear faint movement from the other side and grin to yourself.

“Javi?” You call.

A moment later, you hear a muffled “Yeah?”

“You want a drink?” You wait for his response, but instead of answering you hear his door open and close. You smile, pulling another glass from the cabinet when there’s a knock on your door.

“It’s open,” you shout, pouring two fingers into one of the glasses. A moment later he walks in, his eyes on the floor.

“You should really lock that,” he says, turning to watch you walk down towards him with two drinks. His eyebrows raise as he looks you up and down, and even though you’re supposed to be the cool girl who is very unaffected by her hot neighbour who she just sometimes fucks, it makes swell with some pride.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got a cop next door.” You hold out the glass for him. His eyes flick back up from your waist as he reaches out to take it, wetting his lip with a dart of his tongue.

“Can’t get over here that fast enough.” He says.

“Hm,” you walk over to the wall. “Two knocks for ‘help’, three for ‘I’m fine.’” You demonstrate.

“Or you could just lock your door,” he looks at you over the rim of his glass. You roll your eyes.

“Such a cop,” you toss back your out drink. You wipe your mouth as he watches. “My parents would kill me.”

“Drug traffickers?” He asks

“Almost. Hippies.”

He cracks a smile at that. “This when you tell me your real name is Moonbeam or something?”

“It’s Starlight, actually.” You sit on the couch and gesture for him to join you. He follows your lead, sitting in the exact spot where only a week earlier he had post coitally confided in you. You try and ignore it.

“I’m an agent,” he corrects you.

You kiss your teeth. “Even worse. They’d keel over if they found out baby Starlight fucked ‘the man’.”

“You haven’t for a while,” he says, reaching out to lay a hand on your ankle. You’re embarrassed by how the electricity shoots up you leg, directly to the apex of your thighs.

You laugh. “A week is not a while.” You kick your feet onto the floor and stand, walking back to the kitchen for more drink.

“You sure you want to go out tonight?” He turns and watches you as you pull the cork from the bottle and pour yourself a third drink. So much for that negotiation. You wonder if you can buy bread on the way there. Surely. “My offer for a drink still stands.”

“Mmm, I wonder what that’s code for.” You sit down on the other side of the couch and, feeling bold, stretch your legs out again. “Thank you, but I already told them I’d go.”

He shrugs, bringing the drink back up to his mouth. “Gonna be a boring night,”

You tap his thigh with the tip of your heel. “First I need to be safe, now it’s going to be boring?”

He shrugs again. “Just saying. When you’re disappointed later, you know where I’ll be, hermosa.”

You’re not disappointed.

You and Javier drink for a while longer, swapping stories about Texas and being an expat and dumb, innocuous work shit when you hear a cacophony of giggles followed by a rapid series of knocks at your door. You stand and grab your purse, Javier following in your step as you swing open the door and see Maritza with her two friends, tipsy and giggling on your mat.

“Heyyyyuu guapa,” Maritza says. You’re thankful you weren’t the only one drinking early. The woman behind her- tall and beautiful, you’ll learn her name is Alessa- offers you a small bottle of liquor. You raise you hand to take it as all three of their eyes flick towards the man approaching from behind you.

“Ladies,” he says, hovering behind you. You can’t see his face, but you know the smug bastard is loving every second of this. You recognise the look that flashes across their faces as their eyes flick from him to you, and you smile as you take a quick swig from the bottle.

“Javier was just leaving,” you explain, reaching back and ushering him out by the shoulder.

“Does he have to?” The third girl - Lisa - asks. Alessa gives her a quick seat on the arm.

“He does,” Javier answers, nodding. “You ladies have a good night.” His eyes meet yours for a brief second before he’s turning and walking to his apartment. The girls watch him as he disappears inside as you lock your own door, and when you turn around to tell them you’re ready, the looks on their faces are demanding answers.

Fuck it. You’re drunk.

“Yeah, I am.” You laugh, and all three of them squeal.

Fuck. You had forgotten how fun this was.

The taxi ride over had been a whirlwind of questions and much to the annoyance of the driver, you answered each and every dirty one with as little detail as to remain polite but still subtlety brag that you indeed were fucking the hot guy in your apartment. You missed having girlfriends to gossip with, to giggle over sex and boys. Alessa was married without any kids, but she turned out to be the most curious about you and Javier’s situation. Even though there wasn’t much to tell, you were high on the attention and leaned into each question, a little surge of what could only be feminine pride exploding in your chest when the women blushed at your answers and squealed in delight.

Maritza had said she knew the owner of the club( “she’s lying, she doesn’t know shit.” Lisa laughed with you as she handed you the bottle) you arrived at, and disappeared for a few minutes before reappearing at the back and waving the three of you in. Turns out the owner was actually the janitor, but the result was the same: four passes inside without having to pay. (“Not that we would,” Maritza had said. “But just in case.”). It was thrilling, sneaking through the dark hallways, each of you with their hand on another woman’s shoulder as you giggled, trying to keep quiet. You were drunk enough that you let Alessa pull you onto the dance floor as Maritza and Lisa went to the bar to get drinks. The lights and sounds were overwhelming and you felt blissfully lost in the sea of bodies that, to you, seemed to flow together. When the girls returned, some fruity concoction in their hands, you were already sweating for exertion, and felt larger, warm hands encircle your waist.

For a brief, fleeting second, you thought Javier had followed you to the club, but upon turning around you realised it was very much not Javier. This guy was younger, maybe even a few years younger than you, with big hazel eyes that somehow - alcohol? Magic? - shone through the pulsing lights of the club. Deeming him handsome enough to allow it, you turned and began to grind against him, for a few songs. Finally, during a lull in the music, he leaned forward.

“You’re a shit dancer,” he said

You laughed before reaching back up and pulling him back down to whisper in his ear. “I’ve got better rhythm on my back.”

Messy. But it got the point across.

You felt his thumb on your chin, tilting you up to face him. When he kissed you, he tasted like chapstick and cheap beer. It wasn’t warm or soft or desperate, but it was nice. And nice was enough for you tonight.

The girls behind you cheered in approval when they saw you. Blushing, you turned back to face them, grinding your ass against the growing hardness in your partner’s jeans. At some point during the night you were separated, but you quickly forgot about him when it was Lisa’s turn to pull a man. Doing your friendly duty, you cheered along with Alessa and Maritza as you watched her lead the tall stranger back to the bathrooms, only to reappear fifteen minutes later slightly rumpled but much happier. She did three shots after that.

The night continued to go well- true to you hypothesis, Maritza was a wild card. At some point she managed to crawl on the bar and convince three different men in soccer jerseys to take a shot from between her breasts, before reaching behind the bar and stealing a whole bottle of vodka while the barkeep was distracted. It was only about fifteen minutes before she had passed the bottle to every member of the soccer team when the manager finally noticed and kicked the whole group of you out.

As you stood outside, the four of you giggling and hovering around the equally drunk soccer players, you felt a hand wrap around your waist. Turning, you recognise your dance partner from earlier.

“Hey,” you say. Behind you, your new friends are busy flirt-arguing with the soccer captain.

“Hey,” he says back. “You want to get out of here?”

You give him the once over. He’s cute, toned, and he’s wearing the same jersey as the rest of the teammates. You laugh and look over to the line of taxis, wondering if you’re really about to take this guy up on his offer.

“How old are you?” You ask.

“25.”

You shake your head. “You look like trouble.”

“I am.” He smiles, and you catch those hazel eyes once again.

Fuck it.

You catch a taxi pretty easily, and once you two are in the back seat he’s all over you, pulling you against him to kiss your neck and fondle at your top. For a grown man, he acts like a boy getting to touch his first tit. You send an apologetic look to the driver when you arrive at your apartment after he pays, but quickly forget your embarrassment when he catches you around the waist and pulls you into a sloppy, messy kiss. You’re giddy off the drink and the energy of the night and kiss him back with equal finesse. After a moment you realise you’re still in the street and reach down to take his hand. You’re just outside your apartment door, shamelessly making out, when Javi’s door swings open.

Oh. Oh to be able to record the way Javier’s face falls the moment that cocky smile and planned, snide comment he had ready dies upon seeing another man draped around your back, sucking at your neck. He must have heard you return and come out to bully you into admitting it wasn’t really a fun night without him, and now he’s standing frozen, the extra cigarette you imagine was meant for you caught between his fingers. The man currently sucking a welt onto your neck looks up.

“You want a picture or something?” He asks. You swat his arm and turn, unlocking the door to your apartment quickly before they can engage in some bullshit machismo. You reach down and take your companions hand and urge him to follow you in before shooting Javier an apologetic look.

“Sorry Javi,” you say. “We’ll keep it down.”

And you shut the door behind you.

Look. You weren’t trying to get revenge. It just turns out Isaac (that’s his name) is really, really good at sex. That, or you’re really really drunk. Either way, you’re not the quiet partner you usually are. It doesn’t help that he, unlike the last person you slept with, has a young, heavily exercised back and can flip you into positions like the two of you are competing in couples ice dancing at the fucking Olympics. You even remember, in between rounds, to shove a sock between your headboard and the wall. Not that that really helps, when you’re about eight tequila drinks in and a young, stupidly ripped athlete is railing you from behind.

You also really, really didn’t think that in the morning you would be even awake enough to fuck, let alone do the breathy moaning that’s falling out of your mouth now as he hoists your leg over his side and pumps into you, flicking at your clit like he’s playing a guitar. You honestly, in your still drunk haze, forget that Javier is even on the other side of your wall.

When the two of you finally finish and Issac turns down your offer for breakfast, you throw on a sundress and walk him to the door. The two of you pause before opening the larger door outside, and he leans down to kiss you and assure you that, although it’s such a bummer his team has to go back to Cali, he had a great time with you. You play along, letting the kid have his ego stroked, and kiss him before he turns and heads out the door, into the morning and out of your life. Still smiling to yourself, you don’t realise Javier is standing in his doorway, lit cigarette dangling from his lips with his arms crossed.

“When’s the wedding?” He asks, and you know he’s trying to play it off, to be the cool guy in all of this. But you also hear that buried edge in his voice, and you know you’ve gotten under his skin.

Smiling, you saunter up to him and pluck the cigarette from his lips, holding his gaze as you take a long, large inhale.

“Oh Javi,” you sigh, exhaling. “It’s not serious.”

[ladyofasoiaf]

Sansa & Beauty - Quotes

RADIANT:

Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

A Game of Thrones - Jon I

*-*

COMELY: 

"Saffron is very beautiful, I'll have you know. Tall and slim, with big brown eyes and hair like honey."Alayne raised her head. "More beautiful than me?"

Ser Harrold studied her face. "You are comely enough, I grant you. When Lady Anya first told me of this match, I was afraid that you might look like your father."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*-*

EXQUISITE:

"You do look quite exquisite, child," Lady Olenna Tyrell told Sansa when she tottered up to them in a cloth-of-gold gown that must have weighed more than she did. "The wind has been at your hair, though."

A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

*-*

FAIR:

I must ask after Sansa. How else will I find her? She cleared her throat. "Goodwife," she said to the woman on the turnip cart, "perhaps you saw my sister on the road? A young maid, three-and-ten and fair of face, with blue eyes and auburn hair. She may be riding with a drunken knight."

A Feast for Crows - Brienne II

*-*

BEAUTY:

The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty.

A Feast for Crows - Brienne VII

*-*

Lord Littlefinger kissed her cheek. "With my wits and Cat's beauty, the world will be yours, sweetling. Now off to bed."

A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

*-*

"Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown," Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*-*

LOVELY:

Sansa Stark looked especially lovely this morning, though her face was as pale as milk.

A Clash of Kings - Tyrion VI

*-*

Sansa closed the shutters and turned sharply away from the window. "You look very lovely today, my lady," Ser Arys said.

A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

*-*

"Leave the colors to me, my lady. You will be pleased, I know you will. You shall have smallclothes and hose as well, kirtles and mantles and cloaks, and all else befitting a . . . a lovely young lady of noble birth."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

*-*

When the moonstones hung from Sansa's ears and about her neck, the queen nodded. "Yes. The gods have been kind to you, Sansa. You are a lovely girl. It seems almost obscene to squander such sweet innocence on that gargoyle."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

*-*

"My lady," Tyrion said, "you are lovely, make no mistake, but . . . I cannot do this. My father be damned. We will wait. The turn of a moon, a year, a season, however long it takes. Until you have come to know me better, and perhaps to trust me a little." His smile might have been meant to be reassuring, but without a nose it only made him look more grotesque and sinister.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

*-*

Her maids were dressing her when Tyrion appeared, Podrick Payne in tow. "You look lovely, Sansa." He turned to his squire. "Pod, be so good as to pour me a cup of wine."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

*-*

And false. Sansa, Shae, all my women … Tysha was the only one who ever loved me. Where do whores go? "A lovely girl," said Tyrion, "and we were joined beneath the eyes of gods and men. It may be that she is lost to me, but until I know that for a certainty I must be true to her."

A Dance with Dragons - Tyrion IX

*-*

"The Lord Protector's daughter," the bald knight announced, all hearty gallantry. He rose ponderously. "And full as lovely as the tales told of her, I see."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*-*

PRETTY:

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls. Sansa's needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. "Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. "She has such fine, delicate hands."

A Game of Thrones - Arya I

*-*

"He's going to marry her," little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. "Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm."

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment.

A Game of Thrones - Arya I

*-*

"Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.

A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

*-*

A pity Ned Stark had taken his daughters south; elsewise Theon could have tightened his grip on Winterfell by marrying one of them. Sansa was a pretty little thing too, and by now likely even ripe for bedding. But she was a thousand leagues away, in the clutches of the Lannisters. A shame.

A Clash of Kings - Theon IV

*-*

"I will sing it for you gladly."

Sandor Clegane snorted. "Pretty thing, and such a bad liar. A dog can smell a lie, you know. Look around you, and take a good whiff. They're all liars here . . . and every one better than you."

A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

*-*

I have to look pretty, Joff likes me to look pretty, he's always liked me in this gown, this color.

A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

*-*

"Leave her face," Joffrey commanded. "I like her pretty."

A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

*-*

"Didn't you ever have a brother you wanted to kill?" He laughed again. "Or maybe a sister?" He must have seen something in her face then, for he leaned closer. "Sansa. That's it, isn't it? The wolf bitch wants to kill the pretty bird."

A Storm of Swords - Arya IX

*-*

Jaime found himself wondering if Brienne might have passed this way before him. If she thought that Sansa Stark had made for Riverrun . . . Had they encountered other travelers, he might have stopped to ask if any of them had chance to see a pretty maid with auburn hair, or a big ugly one with a face that would curdle milk. But there was no one on the roads but wolves, and their howling held no answers.

A Feast for Crows - Jaime III

*-*

Petyr put a finger under her chin. "That Royce glimpsed this pretty face I do not doubt, but it was one face in a thousand. A man fighting in a tourney has more to concern him than some child in the crowd. And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut. Men see what they expect to see, Alayne."

A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

*-*

Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her . . . and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

*-*

She studied Alayne's face and chest. "You are prettier than me, but my breasts are larger.  

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

*-*

Sansa was the pretty one. He remembered a time when he had thought that Lord Eddard Stark might marry him to Sansa and claim him for a son, but that had only been a child's fancy.

A Dance with Dragons - Reek I

*-*

Petyr put his arm around her. "So he is, but he is Robert's heir as well. Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*-*

BEAUTIFUL:

"Joffrey likes your sister," Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell's steward and Sansa's dearest friend. "He told her she was very beautiful."

A Game of Thrones - Arya I

*-*

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.  

A Game of Thrones - Arya I

*-*

When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst.To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry.

A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

*-*

"Sweet Sansa," Queen Cersei said, laying a soft hand on her wrist. "Such a beautiful child. I do hope you know how much Joffrey and I love you."  

A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

*-*

She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful.  

A Game of Thrones - Sansa V

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His smile emboldened her, made her feel beautiful and strong. He does love me, he does.  

A Game of Thrones - Sansa V

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"I will need hot water for my bath, please," she told them, "and perfume, and some powder to hide this bruise." The right side of her face was swollen and beginning to ache, but she knew Joffrey would want her to be beautiful.

A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

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His brow was damp with sweat. "I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were."

A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VI

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"Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft... the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper..."

A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

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As they lurched into motion, Tyrion reclined on an elbow while Sansa sat staring at her hands. She is just as comely as the Tyrell girl. Her hair was a rich autumn auburn, her eyes a deep Tully blue. Grief had given her a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful. He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy.  

A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

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Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight."

A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

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"Ser Loras," she finally managed, "you..  you look so lovely."

He gave her a puzzled smile. "My lady is too kind. And beautiful besides. My sister awaits you eagerly."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

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"At the Hand's tourney, don't you remember? You rode a white courser, and your armor was a hundred different kinds of flowers. You gave me a rose. A red rose. You threw white roses to the other girls that day." It made her flush to speak of it. "You said no victory was half as beautiful as me."

Ser Loras gave her a modest smile. "I spoke only a simple truth, that any man with eyes could see."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

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She wanted to look beautiful for Willas Tyrell. Even if Dontos was right, and it is Winterfell he wants and not me, he still may come to love me for myself.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

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"You are very beautiful, my lady," the seamstress said when she was dressed.

"I am, aren't I?" Sansa giggled, and spun, her skirts swirling around her. "Oh, I am." She could not wait for Willas to see her like this. He will love me, he will, he must... he will forget Winterfell when he sees me, I'll see that he does.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

*-*

Tyrion wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added three inches to his height, a chain of rubies and lions' heads. But the gash across his face was raw and red, and his nose was a hideous scab. "You are very beautiful, Sansa," he told her.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

*-*

Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy. And then the dance brought her face-to-face with Joffrey.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

*-*

Littlefinger pointed out a cedar chest under the porthole. "You'll find fresh garb within. Dresses, smallclothes, warm stockings, a cloak. Wool and linen only, I fear. Unworthy of a maid so beautiful, but they'll serve to keep you dry and clean until we can find you something finer."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

*-*

"Marillion?" she said, uncertain. "You are... kind to think of me, but.. pray forgive me. I am very tired."

"And very beautiful.

All night I have been making songs for you in my head. A lay for your eyes, a ballad for your lips, a duet to your breasts. I will not sing them, though. They were poor things, unworthy of such beauty." He sat on her bed and put his hand on her leg. "Let me sing to you with my body instead."

She caught a whiff of his breath. "You're drunk."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

*-*

"I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

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"But you're not, are you? You are Eddard Stark's daughter, and Cat's. But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was, when she was your age."

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

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"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her."  

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

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"Have you no honor?" her aunt said sharply. "Or do you take me for a fool? You do, don't you? You take me for a fool. Yes, I see that now. I am not a fool. You think you can have any man you want because you're young and beautiful. Don't think I haven't seen the looks you give Marillion.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

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"And you must be the Lord Protector's daughter," she added, as the bucket went rattling back up to the Eyrie. "I had heard that you were beautiful. I see that it is true."

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

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"So you're brave as well as beautiful," Myranda said to her.

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

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"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

"Aye," said the second knight, a burly fellow with a thick salt-and-pepper beard, a red nose bulbous with broken veins, and gnarled hands as large as hams. "You left out that part, m'lord."

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

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"I was never beautiful like Sansa, but they all said I was pretty. Does Lord Ramsay think I am pretty?"

A Dance with Dragons - The Prince of Winterfell

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"It was sweet," lied Tyrion, "but I am married. She was with me at the feast, you may remember her. Lady Sansa."

"Was she your wife? She … she was very beautiful …"

A Dance with Dragons - Tyrion IX

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Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

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"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

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"A beautiful bastard, and the Lord Protector's daughter." Petyr drew her close and kissed her on both cheeks. "The night belongs to you, sweetling, Remember that, always."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

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[221castiel]

Bisexual

Quick kinda really bad pride oneshot! this probably takes place around season 12? 13?

Self destruction. It’s how he copes and Dean’s more than aware of that than he’d ever admit. He knows that’s why he spends night drinking himself asleep, having sex with whoever would give him a second glance, or go on hunts without fear for his own safety. He knows it, and he knows that this is just another way to cause himself that pain. To drown himself rather than let the guilt do it for him, yet he goes anyway. 

The sun's low in the sky when Dean parks the impala on a quiet street. His hands still gripping the steering wheel as he watches the house he’d parked across from. He- Ben, steps out of the front door first, a dark gown hanging from his shoulders and a matching cap in hand. He’s tall, much taller than Dean remembers, and grown up, with a shaggy mess of dark brown hair and broad shoulders that fill out his gown. Lisa steps out afterwards and whatever breath Dean has is torn from his lungs. A suffocating pain crashing upon his shoulder as Lisa turns towards Ben, her lips spread out in a wide smile that makes her whole face light up.

He isn’t sure what he’d expected. A quick glimpse of Ben from the safety of the impala, a reassurance that they were okay, a moment to pretend that he was still part of the family, not pain. 

Hot.

Alive.

And without mercy.

As if he was being torn apart cell by cell, left to do nothing but choke down the agony and pray he died soon. 

“Dean?” He looks to his right where Cas was sitting in the passenger seat, a concerned expression across his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yah, it’s just- shit,” Dean takes a deep breath looking back to Lisa and Ben. He doesn’t know what it is, why it hurts so much, all he knows is that the uncertainty only makes it worse. “He’s graduating. And I- and,” Dean hesitates, the words stuck in his throat, held down by the pain.

“I wasn’t there for any of it,” Dean finally says. “I wasn’t there for his eighteenth birthday, or to look at university, or do any of that crap, and she’s-”

“You still want to be with her?” Cas asks when Dean doesn’t continue speaking 

“No.”

“But you still love her?”

“No.”

“But it hurts?’

“Like a son of a bitch.”

The words hang, Cas for once seeming to understand that Dean didn’t want to keep talking and instead lets the car fall in silence. They watch Lisa lean in giving Ben a hug before they both get into Lisa’s car and pull out of the driveway. It’s barely a second but Dean gets a glimpse of her as the car passes them, a smile still across her face as she sings along to whatever songs playing in her car, something that Dean would probably roll his eyes to but still sing along anyways. 

It’s only a second and soon enough the car has disappeared behind them turning off the block and into a different road. Despite that Dean doesn’t make any attempt to start the impala, his hands still gripping the steering wheel as his gaze stays on the house.

He knows the layout, even now, years later. The colour of each room, the shelves he’d added to the office, and the creaky step he’d been meaning to fix. The garden he’d tried to grow and the broken slab in the fence from when he and Ben had been playing baseball. Every addition he’d made and every addition he’d wanted to make. He remembers it as if he’d been there that morning, and yet they didn’t even know his name.

“I’m not lying,” Dean finally whispers, the silence no longer bearable. “I don’t want to be with her.”

And he meant it. 

But the same way his dad's death still weighed on him, or his mother’s death, or Bobby’s, or Jo’s or anyone else in the long list of people they’d lost. This loss weighed on him.

“I don't think I ever should’ve been with her.” He doesn’t look towards Cas as he speaks, keeping his gaze forward. If he did look, Dean wasn’t sure he could keep speaking. 

He takes a breath, letting his hands fall from the steering wheel and instead to his side. “When you’re a teengager- that’s supposed to be when you figure things out, who you are, what you want to do, all that crap.” Dean says, his voice seeming to echo through the small space, louder than he ever wanted to be, more open than he wanted to ever be. “But for me it was already figured out, dad had decided what he needed and there wasn’t much room for argument.”

Much.

That was a nicer word than any.

Much gave him at least some kind of choice. Even if he knew the truth, it was nice to pretend he’d been given some say in giving up his childhood. 

“When Sam got locked in the cage and with dad already gone, I had nothing, I could do whatever I wanted, no one holding me back, no expectations, and that scared the shit outta me.” Dean looks down, using his thumb to pick at a hangnail. “I was almost thirty, so I did what I was supposed to- I got a girlfriend and a kid, I found a job, lived in a house, had the apple pie life, I finally had the chance to figure myself out and was still too scared to even try.”

“I cared about Lisa, and I still do, I always will, but I never should’ve been with her,” Dean says,  his chest tight, Cas’s eyes burning against his side, yet he keeps speaking, no matter how much his heart begged him not to. “She was me trying to hide, I didn’t want to figure myself out, I felt like it was too late you know? And I guess I was still scared about disappointing my dad, and I- I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about.”

He could almost taste the words on the tip of his tongue as he looks up, meeting Cas’s intense gaze 

Blue, vibrant, holding Dean’s attention. He could look forever, memorise every shade that danced through them, study the way the light reflected against them, he could look forever if the words would just leave his lips.  

“Cas,” Dean finally says. “I’ve been doing that now, trying to figure things out, and I think I like girls and-” he forces himself to exhale, “I think I’m bi.” 

And in love with you 

Cas stares, blinking, then tilts his head, Dean’s racing in his chest the whole time. “Dean,” He can feel his throat tighten though he forces himself to breathe through his nose, holding eye contact with the other. “You should be incredibly proud of yourself,” Cas offers a small smile, “I’m incredibly proud of you.”

Dean forces another breath barely able to breath through the lump in his throat never mind talk. “Thanks for coming,” He manages, “really Cas it means alot.”

They don’t speak again, and instead Dean pulls back onto the road, the quiet sound of Led Zeppelin filling the car as for the first time that day Dean takes a steady breath, feeling a little lighter.

He’d confess his feelings some other day, for now, this was enough. 

[georgiasfm]

╰  ･ﾟ. * 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘 ;

[ scarlett leithold, cis female, she/her ] have you seen GEORGIA CALLOWAY lately ? yeah, i heard they're TWENTY TWO years old and a REALITY TV STAR/PODCAST HOST now in charleston city. i mean, i don’t know if it’s their LEO vibes or that they’re -OBSTINATE and -CAPRICIOUS but also +GREGARIOUS and +EMPYREAN but they remind me of MIND GAMES by BANKS. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble around here. 

hey besties ! i’m ley , i’m 20 ( well .... i will be at midnight ) , i go by she / her pronouns , and i’m livin’ in the est timezone ! i unfortunately have a super busy weekend bc it’s my birthday , so i won’t be able to be around as much as i want to be. but i’m gonna do my best to as active as possible ! thankfully i wrote this intro ahead of time so for once it isn’t a complete disaster ( it’s still not good tho so don’t have high expectations ) anyways , here’s miss georgia calloway !! 

𝐈  . 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  :

FULL NAME  :  georgia belle calloway .       AGE  :  twenty - two  .   DATE OF BIRTH  :  july 23rd . ASTROLOGY SIGNS  :  leo sun , aquarius moon , pisces ascendant .   GENDER  : cis woman  .   PRONOUNS  :  she / her / hers  .   SEXUALITY  :  bisexual .       MOTHER  :  diane calloway  :  former pageant  &  debutante queen turned stay at home mom / trophy wife .   FATHER  :  jack calloway  :  career politician  &  mayor of charleston .  SIBLINGS  :  georgia is the middle child of five kids . two older brothers , two younger sisters .  POSITIVE TRAITS  :  gregarious  ,  vehement  ,  alluring  , venturesome  ,  empyrean , altruistic  . NEGATIVE TRAITS  :  obstinate  ,  reticent  ,  flighty  ,  temerarious  ,  capricious  .   AESTHETICS  :  the patter of raindrops against glass windows , the lingering scent cigarettes mixed with sweet perfume , drinking honey whiskey out of red solo cups ,  watching constellations with exhausted eyes , sneaking out by means of the vine trellis , leaving texts unanswered for days , a box of pageant awards hidden away in the closet , secrets that weigh more than gold on cherry stained lips , bending every rule just enough to get away with it , wrinkled white satin dresses and knee high ruffled socks , one too many bottomless mimosas at brunch , hearts drawn on fogged glass mirrors , lollipop stained lips . CHARACTER INSPO  :  brooke davis ( one tree hill ) , sarah cameron ( obx ) , lux lisbon ( the virgin suicides ) , jackie burkhart ( that 70s show ) . 

click here for a quick trip to her pinterest bc it describes her better than i ever could !!

( tw ; infidelity , death , drunk driving )

𝐈𝐈 .  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝  :

       from the second she was born , georgia was treated as her mother’s little doll. diane had been ecstatic the day she found out she was with child for the second time , and even more ecstatic to find out she would be having their first little girl. she was dressed up in pink dresses and frilly socks , shown off to all of the women country or her mother’s weekly book club nights. she was the apple of her parent’s eyes , until she wasn’t. with brunette tresses  &  honey brown eyes , georgia was adored by everyone .... her beauty noted with claims that she would grow up to be a heartbreaker. her mother thrived on the compliments ; the subtle reminders to what her own childhood had been like. she had always planned on having a little girl that she could do pageants with just like she had with her own mother , and darling little georgia was perfect for that. at such a young age , georgia fell in love with the pageants. she thrived in the spotlight , with all eyes on her. and just like her mother , she won every competion she was entered in , until she didn’t. by the age of nine , georgia was starting to grow bored of the constant pageants and recitals , wanting to explore other interests. by that point , diane’s interest in her had worn off and moved onto the next child , a five year old with beautiful blonde curls and dimpled cheeks. georgia grew to know the subtle ache of rejection , and from that day forward , did everything she could to win back her mother’s affection. 

      from the outside , the calloway’s came off as the picture perfect family. but from the inside ? things were quite the opposite. georgia’s parents had unmeetable expectations for their children. get perfect grades , nothing below a b acceptable. sit down , look pretty , and shut up. don’t cause a scandal. their love was entirely conditional , only being shown when their was something they believed deserved rewarding. if you were to ask georgia , she wouldn’t be able to tell you the last time her mother actually hugged her for genuine reasons , and not to manipulate her into doing what she wanted. their father was rarely home , always away working or traveling for work. it became obvious that he was having an affair –– multiple affairs , but diane just looked the other way. the calloway family was very prominent in charleston , especially with her father being elected mayor , and their was nothing that diane would allow to ruin their image. even if it cost her own happiness.

       things got considerably more difficult around the calloway home when georgia was sixteen. her eldest brother had gone out for a night of fun with a group of friends , and made the fatal mistake of getting into a car with someone who was far too drunk to drive. georgia will never forget the conversation she overheard from the living room that night ; “ they were drunk. lost control of the vehicle. died on impact. ” it tore the family apart , dividing them even more than they already were. georgia couldn’t stand the silence of her home after her brother’s death. so she started partying constantly , going on 48 hour benders and staying out long past her curfew. she couldn’t even recognize herself in the mirror. gone was their innocent little girl , the apple of their eyes. even this couldn’t get the attention of her parents , they barely even noticed she was gone most of the time ; all they did was yell at her to not make them look like fools. 

        for her whole life , georgia followed her parent’s rules. after graduating high school , she was expected required to go college and get a degree , but georgia just couldn’t be bothered. this is the one time she went against her parent’s wishes. her fear of being stuck here forever , with the same life as her parents ; a husband that doesn’t love her and miserable children , won out over the need for approval from her parents. so she ran off to la , and landed herself on love island usa after being approached by a producer. georgia is reality tv gold , and quickly became a fan favorite. her most memorable moment being after she got her heart broken on live tv , when she purposely held up a lighter to set off fire alarms ; and then laid on the ground getting drenched by the sprinklers. so now she’s single again after being made a fool of in front of the world , back home with parents that hate her for bringing them unwanted attention , and stuck in the city she tried to get away from. but , she’s got a podcast. it’s called the bimbo summit and it’s pretty much the only thing bringing her joy right now. it started as a way for her to expose some behind the scenes shit from love island , but now it’s just for fun. 

𝐈𝐈𝐈 .  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  :

georgia is the girl that’s not easy to forget. she’s outgoing and amiable , but stubborn and not easy to push over. she was the one that moms would warn their kids to stay away from in high school ; she leaves a trail of destruction wherever she goes , no matter how hard she tries not to. she has the purest of intentions , genuinely just wanting love  &  happiness for herself and everyone around her , but it seems like the universe has different plans. 

she almost has this air of melancholy surrounding her ? like even when she’s happy and smiling , you can still sense it or see in her eyes that she’s not truly happy 

very charismatic , she’s a major people pleaser so she’ll put everyone else’s feelings before her own . she just wants everyone to be happy even if it means she ends up being miserable . 

georgia’s a selective oversharer . she’ll tell you all these useless little facts so you think she’s opening up when in reality you don’t truly know her because she refuses to talk about the things that matter . 

she’s trusting once she gets to know someone , but if you break that trust even once she’s not very quick to forgive. she’ll hear you out , but it’s unlikely that she’ll ever let you back in. 

she is completely unhinged. somehow picks the worst possible decision every time a problem arises. she’s not much of a logical thinker , and tends to let her heart make decisions for her. it’s gotten her into a world of trouble one too many times , and yet she’s never learnt her lesson. 

she’s also a serial dater. in her pea brain attention = love so she’ll flock to wherever she gets that. she likes the validation of relationships but hates the commitment , so pretty much all of her relationships end before they ever really start. 

don’t ever tell georgia she can’t do something. she’s a stubborn bitch and she’ll either do it immediately just to spite you or dedicate her entire life to proving you wrong and that’s not something anyone needs to deal with.

very opinionated and not afraid to make sure you know !! she will stand up for what she’s believes in without even a second of hesitation.

she would not be caught dead looking unpresentable .... she’ll do her hair and a full face of make up even if she’s waking up at 4am. and don’t even bother to ask her to go out after she’s done her skin care routine .... there’s no chance 

doesn’t really know how to handle her emotions ? so when she’s hurt she tends to just .... shut down & push everyone away 

she is a hardcore adrenaline junkie , she does so much stupid shit just for the thrill. making spontaneous and impulsive decisions is her favorite pass time.  she just holds a lot of emotion in , so anything that will release all of that or make her feel anything other than the things she’s avoiding are very much welcomed.