#the men though. oh god. wheres the energy of the guy buying me a drink just to have a shoulder to cry on . WHERE !!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalpanic · 3 years

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Lovely Josie! Can I request a Frankie piece? Where reader is part of the friend group and really into Frankie. She knows he's also into her but just typical insecure Frankie. So she flirts with him and tries to seduce him every chance she gets until one day she's had enough and really goes for it. And if course Frankie likes it 😇 Merci!

Spicy-Sweet (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

summary: ^^

W/C: 4.3K

Warnings: lots of talk of alcohol, food, god Frankie’s an idiot but a cute one, so much pining and flirting, implied age gap and Frankie’s insecure over it, Frankie has a brief and mild anxiety attack but is comforted

A/N: this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Bucky- that was what the men called you. When you’d first joined the group of men, it’d been as Pope’s friend, a shock to all of them; you weren’t sleeping together, weren’t sneaking around. Just friends. That threw them for a loop. You were always at his side, his right-hand wing-woman. Frankie had been a little put off at first that he’d been replaced, but he grew to like you just as much as the other men. That’s how you’d earned Bucky: Cap’s sidekick, Pope’s sidekick.

When you finally bonded with the rest of them, became friends with them, you were less Pope’s sidekick and more yourself. You grew to love the men for different things. Benny was always there to cheer you up, full of bad jokes and energy. He’d take you out when a date stood you up, buy you a beer on your shittiest days. Will Miller was a shoulder to cry on. He was smart, strong, emotionally intelligent. Wise beyond his years, Ironhead always had the best advice for you. Pope was the partier, and was the one who got things done. Organizing plans was his forte. He loved getting the group together to hang out, and was the only one who could rally the group.

Frankie was all of that and more. Everything. Frankie had caught your eye the moment Pope introduced you to the men. Frankie was the quietest, even quieter than Will. He never enjoyed the spotlight, especially when you were new, but he loved making his friends laugh. He was comforting and helpful, lending you a jacket or helping you with a manual labor task you couldn’t quite get.

Frankie is the one you have a crush on. All of the men have their attributes, and you have to admit that any of them would make a good boyfriend and surely a good lover, but they are and always have been brotherly first. Frankie was something different. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, wanted to kiss the bald patch on his jaw and steal his Hawaiian shirts. You tease him endlessly to hide your feelings, though never in a mean way at all. Always soft and joking, always reciprocated by the teddy bear of a man.

You were the same to him; the first time he saw you, he thought he wanted to marry you someday. He loves your laugh and your humor, loves the way you nudge his side and even though it’s a little painful, wants you to do it again just so he can feel your body touching his. He loves how you can hold court over the men with your stories, can get them to agree on the most divisive of issues. He’d even proposed once that you become Cap, not Bucky. You were clearly a leader. But Santiago brushed it off by saying that Bucky was getting his own show now, so he’s just fine, and besides pendejo, you can’t change a nickname once it's been given.

Emotionally constipated Frankie is just fine to sit to the sidelines. If he has one principle with love and friends, it’s that he’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. That’s why he doesn’t necessarily openly flirt with you, why he suppresses his feelings until it’s late at night and he’s alone and can daydream about your pretty face and tight jeans and the crinkle of your nose when you smile.

You’re different. You wear that green shirt you know Frankie always ogles you in when it’s a night out. You buy him a drink or two. You insist he dance with you, take him on errands with you on a Saturday morning. You can read the man; you’re pretty damn sure he likes you too, but you don’t want to ruin it. Rushing him is the last thing on your mind.

As you wander through the farmer’s market on a spring Sunday morning, you shiver as the breeze rushes past your bare arms. Frankie doesn’t notice; he’s too busy admiring a booth selling hot honey. You can’t help but laugh as he delightedly samples a spoon of the syrupy-sweet-spicy product, and turns to you with wide eyes. “Bucky, you gotta try this,” he insists, handing you a sample spoon.

Nodding, you give in and taste it. The flavor on your tongue reminds you of Frankie if he were a flavor: a little spicy, but more of a warm feeling. Infinitely sticky-sweet, floral and tasting of sunshine. There’s heat, just a little, enough to awaken your tastebuds and mingle with the honey perfectly. “That’s good shit. How much is it?” You ask the vendor.

A few minutes later, you walk away with two bottles. You hand one to Frankie. “Here. This is for you,” you tell him with an earnest smile.

Frankie’s brows slide together beneath the brim of his favorite ball cap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you shrug and pat his cheek, your path curving to the right as you approach a bakery stall.

The morning is sunny and just slightly cold, making you shiver every so often. Sweet Frankie walks dutifully at your side like the dogs and their owners similarly strolling the tent-lined sidewalk. His eyes light up as he sees breads and flowers, homemade jerky and beautiful jewelry. The variety is exciting, and you often hear Frankie shouting for you from a new booth.

While you admire the jewelry made of local stones, something warm and soft covers your shoulders. You look down to find that it’s Frankie’s suede brown jacket. “You looked cold,” he tells you and turns a little pink before patting your shoulder and wandering off.

At the end of the day, you have a full reusable bag, brimming with goodies: a small bright bouquet, two loaves of bread, cookies, fresh berries, and a bottle of hot honey. Frankie’s is similarly stuffed, though it’s with much more unhealthy choices. The two of you sit on a grassy hill, munching on a pack of thumbprint cookies Frankie purchased.

The morning sun is just starting to warm up, but the jacket you’re now wearing is cozy. You lean your head on Frankie’s shoulder as the two of you rest there without words, lost in your own thoughts.

God, he’s so cute. So sweet. A little stupid. Just how I like them. Is my flirting not obvious enough to him? You wonder internally.

Frankie’s thoughts are similar but different. She’s so sweet. She’s so nice to me. I wonder if she’d ever like me like that.

Partying is Pope’s favorite pastime. The man enjoys getting shitfaced and taking a similarly drunk date home. Lord knows what they do; you’re glad you don’t. That leaves you and the Millers and Frankie. You and Benny dance and sing karaoke, twirling and shouting the lyrics to the song blasting in the bar. Frankie and Will sit on the sidelines.

That’s exactly where tonight has found you. A surprisingly sober Pope has gone home with a pretty girl he flirted with briefly before she tugged him by the jacket sleeve. He shot a look of excitement at the four of you before leaving.

Now, Benny requested his favorite song through the pay-per-tune machine in the corner. You’d squealed and dragged him out, dancing with him on the wooden floor the bar provides. Frankie can’t help but think the two of you would make a good couple. The two of you are full of sarcasm and energy at most times, around the same age. Frankie’s a bit older, and he can’t help but think that it would be weird for you, that it would prevent him from liking you. If only he knew.

Benny does, actually. He’s annoyed that your group doesn’t give him enough credit for his smarts. He might be mostly muscle, but he’s packing brains too. He’s great at observing social interactions, and he can especially tell that there’s something between the two of you. He’s learned his best friend like he knows how to drive or what his own phone number is. Benny knows Frankie, and he knows he won’t make the first move for fear of upsetting you. That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to be your blonde, blue eyed Cupid and queued up Frankie’s favorite song next.

You know it’s his favorite song. Of course you do. When it comes on, you turn to the bar with wide eyes and wave to catch Frankie’s attention, then wave him over. Benny says something or another and wanders off. It takes some nonverbal persuading, some pleading eyes and pouting to the man, but Frankie eventually adjusts his jeans and gets up, leaving that suede jacket behind on his barstool.

“It’s your song!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around him, starting to dance along with him. He moves back with you, though nowhere near as fluid or free.

He shakes his head but smiles, and you flick the brim of his cap. “Oh come on, you love this song. Don’t be such a dope,” you tease and grab his hips, forcing him to move them a little more than the stiff motions he’s making.

“I am a dope,” he mumbles and you roll your eyes, moving in a way that invites Frankie to move back against it. It’s a two-person dance, and you’re starting to get him moving.

Chuckling, you look up at him. “You ever seen Footloose?” you ask him.

He blows a raspberry into the air, laughing. “Of course I have. It’s my favorite movie.”

“Then how come you can’t dance?” You tease.

Frankie makes a noise of mock-injury, clutching his chest. “Damn, Bucky. Right in the heart.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. “I was going to say that you remind me of Willard. I guess that’s fitting though. You can’t dance.”

His scent is the only thing you can think about, the way his cologne is spicy and sweet on his flushed skin, warm from having you in such close proximity. “Does that make Pope Ren?”

“And it makes me whatever the girl who dates Willard is named,” you shamelessly flirt, swaying him to the side as the song changes in keys.

If there was anything in Frankie’s mouth right now, he’d be choking. Maybe it’s just because you’re dancing together, he rationalizes. Maybe it’s just because you wouldn’t want to date Pope. It can’t be because you like him. That’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. “Ha. Sure,” he shakes his head, taking off his cap and teasingly placing it backwards on your head.

It’s loose on your head, and you laugh as you look up at him. Frankie has that feeling again in his gut: he’s going to marry you someday. It can’t be the alcohol, not in either of you. You’ve both only had a drink each. No, in this moment he realizes the depth of how bad he wants you, but he cannot comprehend that you want him too. There’s no way you could ever love a man like Francisco Morales, he tells himself. But he wants you to. He aches for you to.

The song ends and the ache only grows. Frankie is not a dancer. This is his time to retire to the barstool. “Well, thank you for holding my hat,” he teases you and steals it back, putting it on himself and patting your side before wandering back to his spot next to Will.

You frown, but then Benny finds you again and the energy returns somewhat. You long to feel Frankie’s arms around you again, to dance with him and whisper jokes next to his ear so that you can feel the way his laugh buzzes in his chest. You consider buying another play of Frankie’s song later, but that would be suspicious. You’ll have to find another way, but you have to do it soon; you’re not sure how much longer you can last before you combust from not getting to kiss his soft lips, to feel his scruff beneath your fingertips as you cup his face and finally close the gap between the two of you.

Frankie is much too old for parties. He’d decided that even a few years ago now, that that sort of thing was best left to the young bucks who could drink endlessly and awaken with only a mild headache. How the hell Benny had talked him into attending this party, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that you’d be there and that was enough for him.

You’re not a big partier either; you can get wild, but only around your friends, usually only with Benny there to egg you on and hand you shot after shot. You don’t particularly like getting drunk, just enough alcohol to make things a bit lighter. Benny and Santiago were the ones who’d insisted you and Frankie come along to this party a mutual friend of theirs is hosting.

Of course, the boys wanted you two there but had failed to mention they were each bringing dates. When you wandered in with Benny and a girl flung herself onto him, peppering his blonde stubble with kisses, you’d quickly learned that you weren’t going to get a good night with your favorite guys. Santiago was similarly taken, a girl draped across his lap in a busy living room, each of them holding a drink. He’d given you a two-finger salute as you wandered to the kitchen, kind of annoyed.

You’d dressed a little nicer, though nothing too special, and you immediately hoped at least Frankie and Will would be around tonight to hang out with. Will’s not a big partier, though he’s a little more social than you and Frankie. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your face falls as you read the text.

Ironhead: sorry guys. Not gonna make it out tonight.

He provides no explanation why; Will never does. You know better than to question it. Your only hope now is that Frankie doesn’t blow you off.

Frankie could never. The promise of you being at the party was enough for him to meticulously shave and spray that cologne he knows you love on his flannel, which you’ll surely ask for because you’re always cold. He’s not here yet, so you lean against the kitchen counter and crack open a hard seltzer as you look around. Bringing your drink with you, you hit the bathroom and when you return, there’s a familiar ball cap poking above the crowd, labeled with Standard Heating & Oil. Frankie.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the cap from his head and put it on yourself. “Hey, pilot,” you sing as he turns and his face lights up to see you. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, leaving an indent in those curls from where the cap was.

“Goddamnit, Buck,” he laughs and tries to steal it back, but you dodge out of the way.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight, flyboy,” you sigh as you prop an elbow on his shoulder and look around, finding Benny and his girl making out on the dance floor and Santiago playing with a woman’s hair on the couch.

Frankie has to admit he’s okay with that. “They didn’t tell me they’d be bringing dates,” you grumble. Frankie holds back a chuckle. This was most definitely planned, Wingman Benny embracing his role in forcing the two of you together. Frankie couldn’t say he was too upset about it, in all honesty. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” you shake your head and grab Frankie by the bicep, trying not to shiver at how muscular his arms are.

In the kitchen, you toy with the hem of his shirt as he mixes himself an old fashioned from the vast cocktail bar. “I love this one,” you murmur absentmindedly, admiring the worn fabric and the ripping seams at the hem. It’s so perfectly Frankie: an old black Fleetwood Mac shirt, nearly falling apart. There are holes in the hems and under the left armpit but it always smells sweet and spicy, just like him, and feels like a security blanket. “Looks good on you.”

“Looks like a piece of shit. I need to just throw it out, but I can’t bring myself to,” he chuckles as he finally takes a sip of his drink. He knows the reason he can’t: you love it too much.

“Good,” you nod and set down your hard seltzer, making yourself a drink.

“What you got there?” he asks as he watches you stir up a concoction.

“Essentially the same as you. Old fashioned but with Fireball instead of regular whiskey.”

“You seem to like the spicy-sweet thing, don’t you?” he teases.

God, if only he knew. “Spicy-sweet, just like someone else I know,” you tease him and nudge your shoulder with his. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Frankie’s heart does several backflips in a row, complete with a roundoff and a cartwheel. He’d earn the gold in the Olympics, the way his heart tumbles and turns in his chest. “Ha,” he laughs dryly, looking down at his own drink, swishing it and watching the ultra-sweet cherry spin through the dark liquid.

The music gets louder from the other room as you and Frankie drink in silence, both of you leaning against the kitchen counter as the amount of alcohol per cup steadily decreases. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Pope,” Frankie finally speaks over the loudening noise, nodding to the living room where everyone is clustered.

“Sure,” you call back, even though he’s just a few feet from you.

It’s practically a maze, trying to find his way through the people. They’re all moving and bouncing, the sound overwhelming him. It’s like a goddamn mosh pit, he thinks, or how it must feel to be buried inside one. How did this party become something like this, and why the hell is he here? Frankie wanders through, getting turned around as the group moves and sways.

His breathing gets heavier, and suddenly Frankie feels suffocated. His primary objective no longer is finding Pope, it’s getting the fuck out of here before this herd stampedes him to death. He feels pathetic and small, like a single fish in a giant school wandering through an abysmally deep sea.

When the tide loosens its hold, when Frankie sees a path, he takes it out. He’s not sure how long he was trapped in there- 20 seconds, a minute, five minutes, but he’s overwhelmed and his head is spinning, his drink somehow gone and lost in the shuffle.

You see him stumble out, looking terrified, and rush over. “Hey, hey, Frankie,” you murmur as you grab his forearms. “Are you okay? Did you find Pope?” You ask, your thumbs tracing over his pulsing veins.

He shakes his head, and you take it as a no for both. “Okay, come on, did you drive here? Is your truck out there?”

He nods and grabs his keys, putting them in your hand. “Alright, pilot, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” You stick the hat back on his head and hope it could maybe bring a sense of normalcy back to him.

Frankie’s head feels like radio static as you bring him to the truck, unlocking it and sliding in first across the bench seat. He follows in after you and closes the door, and he turns the air conditioning on full-blast, feeling desperately hot.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me,” you beg of him, cupping the side of his face with one hand. You shiver under the quick breeze of the vents, the cold air immediately filling the cab of his truck. “What happened?” You ask, just above a whisper, fingers tracing the stubble of his jaw.

His eyes are getting more normal, less panicked and more sane. He must’ve had some kind of anxiety or PTSD moment in the crowd. “Just… thought I was gonna get crushed,” he murmurs, not looking at you.

“Frankie. Let’s breathe together, okay? Look at me.” His eyes find yours and you smile. “Good. Follow me.”

You ground him nearly instantly, your chilled skin under his hands as he grips your upper arms, your soft lips parting to breathe in and out. The flutter of your eyelashes when you close those beautiful eyes, the one that have such a distinct unique color. He would kiss you right now if he had the courage.

He breathes along with you and is calm enough by the second breath to think rationally again. The wave has passed, leaving his body feeling tired and limp. “I-I’m good,” he assures you, tracing his fingers across your skin. “Bucky, you’re freezing.”

“Frankie,” you give a sad chuckle. “I’m supposed to be calming you, and-“

“I’m super hot, please, take this,” he says as he shucks his flannel and hands it to you. “It would help me,” he says simply, enjoying the way the air conditioning more directly contacts his skin without it on.

“Well, okay,” you laugh and slip it on, breathing in the warm scent that is Frankie and sighing contentedly. “See? I love the sweet and spicy thing, like your cologne.”

He shakes his head and looks away. “Oh, stop. You don’t mean that.”

You frown at him. “Frankie. You’re thinking straight again, right?”

He nods.

“Then how aren’t you processing how in love with you I am?” You ask with a soft laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “I flirt with you endlessly, and it feels like you never pick up on it. So now I’m just going to say it: I like you, Frankie.”

Biting his lip, Frankie looks down at you with slight confusion. “Really?”

You laugh incredulously, burying your face in his neck. “Yes, Frankie, really. I like you a lot. I have since the moment I met you. And I’d like to think you like me too.”

There’s a beat of silence and he nods, taking one of your hands in his and lacing the fingers together. “I really like you too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met, Buck,” he admits, wide brown eyes looking down at you with all of the love in his massive heart. “I just… didn’t want to assume anything. You’re so good to me, but you’re so good to the other guys too.”

“Do I buy the other men bottles of hot honey? Have I ever brought a date around like the other guys do?” You ask, lovingly and hoping he sees your point. “I’ve been pining for you for so long, Morales. I just want you to get it through your thick skull that I care for you and I’ve been in love with you for quite a while.”

“I feel stupid,” he mumbles, ears turning pink at the tips. “It was pretty obvious. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” you assure him and squeeze his fingers. “I personally think it’s fucking adorable that you didn’t want to assume that. I like that, that you didn’t want to do anything first without knowing the same about you. I like all of you, Frankie, from that scruffy beard to these cozy flannels you always let me borrow.”

His heart melts in his chest, reducing him to a puddle. “Then I guess I should ask if you’d be my girl.”

His girl? If you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, you were wrong. You can’t hold back any longer and you swing your leg across his lap, straddling him in the bench seat of his truck. “Can I kiss you, Frankie?” You ask, gently removing his cap and setting it aside.

“God, yes please,” he practically whines as he cups your face in both of his big hands, kissing you deeply and breathing out heavily through his nose.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, Frankie’s body pressed to yours as your lips meet. You both taste that perfect spicy-sweet flavor, the way that’s so Frankie in your head. This might be the sweetest and softest man alive, you think to yourself, and goddamn, you’re lucky, Bucky.

His body radiates the heat of his love and stress and everything, completely melting into yours. You’re never going to stop doing this now that you’ve started. You’re never going a day without holding Frankie like this.

Your legs are firmly planted on either side of him, and Frankie moves his hands to grip your waist and pull you in closer. Shivering at the way he practically manhandles you, you moan into his lips, murmuring his name breathlessly. It’s like the most perfect melody, the way you say it. He mumbles your name back, your real name. Not Bucky.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself tight against him, running one hand through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He tastes like heaven, just as perfect as you’ve dreamed about for as long as you’ve known him. When you break away, you smile softly, admiring the way he’s panting beneath you. His head is tilted back to look at you on top of him, his eyes glazed over and cheeks warmed with pounding blood. You gulp and trace the side of his face with feather-light fingertips, admiring his beauty. “God, Francisco,” you murmur. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

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itgirlification · 3 years

Text

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Permanent Vacation

Summary: Calum falls for a musician.

A/N: I just really wanted an excuse to use Arrows in Action newest releases in a fic. (They’re bangers. You should go give ‘em a listen.)

Word Count: 2.8k

And away, and away we go!

The sun was hot as it beat down on my neck, the line for the beerstand long, and the noises of people chatting excitedly were loud in my ears. But I didn’t care in the slightest. After the isolating shitshow that was quarantine, I was more than happy to be out at a festival with, wait for it, live fuckin’ music. The only way I could be happier was if my band was in the lineup, but this was still a pretty close second. To be surrounded by musicians and people who loved music was a breath of fresh air after so long. A breath of very hot fresh air. But still.

Behind me I heard the girlish giggling and whispers of my name, which drew the attention of the group in front of me: three guys, and a girl around my own age, two of the guys a good shoulder and head taller than the other man and girl. The shortest of the guys whispered, “Could you imagine if we got noticed like that?”

The tall brunette’s eyes went wide as he pulled a face and shook his head. “No, thanks. I think I’d cry.”

The other tall one with purple hair laughed loudly, “Aw, c’mon, that would be rad! His band’s not even in the lineup and he still gets recognized. Could you imagine?”

“He has a name, and can hear you, J,” the girl hissed with a playful eye roll. Then, she flashed me a smile before calling out in a loud voice, “Hey, man! Good to see ya! How ya been?” to me, before taking a step forward and stretching up to wrap her arm around my shoulders like we were old friends. “Just go with it,” she added under her breath. “Nobody’ll bug you for pictures and autographs if you’re with a bigger group.”

“Thanks,” I laughed at her rescue attempt. “But it’s fine if they do. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but they can at least let you buy a fuckin’ beer first.”

“Well, thanks again,” I said, not sure of what else to say, or do so I let her pull me up with her friends who were all staring at her with I’m sure the same look of soft shock I had on my own face.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She let go of me as she started introducing her friends to me. “And this is Jesse.”

“Hello,” the tall one with purple hair smiled warmly.

“That’s Matt,” she nudged the other tall one.

“Hey.”

“And this is Vic,” she finished, looking at the shortest man who waved.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Calum,” I said, then realized how stupid that was. “But, you already knew that, huh?”

Y/N grinned, holding her thumb and index finger close together. “Just a smidge. But it’s cool. So, any bands you’re particularly excited to see?”

“The Maine and All Time Low mostly. I’m a huge fan of The Maine, and All Time Low are friends of mine.”

“Both are great bands. And the All Time Low guys are good friends to have, for sure.”

“Oh, you know them?”

“Yeah, we worked with them a few times.”

“Worked with? Fellow musicians, huh?”

She laughed. “We’re up and comers, yeah.”

“Your cool aunt’s favorite band,” Jesse grinned at me.

Y/N laughed more at the confused look that crossed my face. “That’s one of his favorite ways to refer to us. Like we’re the band you find out from word of mouth from the cool relative that’s always discovering new music.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding in understanding. “Been there. Are you guys in the lineup?”

“Yup!” she chirped happily as we got to the front of the line. “5 beers, please,” she told the person working the counter.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I tried to decline, reaching quickly for my wallet.

“Relax, it’s just a beer,” she told me, passing me one of the cups being placed on the counter.

“Well, thanks,” I said, raising the cup and taking a sip. “I’ll getcha guys next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she grinned around the rim of her own cup. “Enjoy your beer, Cal. See ya around.”

~~~

I took the last swallow from my beer, cursing myself for not having stopped her to get the name of her band, or at the very least her last name. But before I had a chance to get the words out, I’d been bombarded with requests from fans for pictures, engaging in small conversations with them, and by the time I was done, Y/N was long gone.

So I resigned myself to walking around the festival grounds, my head reeling. It wasn’t often a woman pretended to be my friend to rescue me from the onslaught of fans. In fact, I couldn’t recall one time that's ever happened. I also wasn’t used to being bought drinks, even if I was still fully intending to return the favor. Although that would require me to find her first. But something told me that wouldn’t be too difficult.

I was grateful I’d come on my own, and not with Ashton who would have no doubt teased me about how hooked I was on the girl. The cynic with a crush? Whatever were the odds? And was it even technically a crush when I’d only interacted with her for maybe five minutes? Okay, maybe Ashton being around wouldn’t be the worst thing if he could help me make sense of the jumble of thoughts in my head. The way that man could bounce from crush to crush almost seamlessly was enough to give me a case of whiplash.

I sighed as I tossed my cup in the trash. Whether or not it was a crush was still to be determined. All I knew was that I liked her energy, and wanted to see her again. And… that was a crush, wasn’t it? God. Fuckin’. Damn it.

A guitar chord rang out loudly, and there was a mad dash of people running towards the stage. Slowly I pushed my way through the crowd of people towards the front, grinning when I noticed it was her on stage, and grinning even more when I noticed the instrument in her hand. A bassist? Fuck, I was definitely in trouble now.

The shortest of the men, Vic, I recalled, started singing, with the other three providing backup harmony on the chorus. Until they got to the bridge that was all Y/N, her voice ringing out “Tomorrow’s a nightmare, I’m dreaming today. And my head is haunted, the past just can’t stay. The devil you know, yeah he comes and he goes. I’m selfish, and vapid, I hide in my prose!” before they launched into the final chorus.

“What up, Anaheim?!” Vic yelled into his mic to a scream of cheers and applause. “We’re Arrows in Action, and that was our newest single, Only Be Mine. I’m Vic. We got Matt over here on guitar. Jesse’s on the drums. And Y/N’s over there on bass. We got a few more songs for you all. And if you’re an awesome crowd, we might have a special treat for ya at the end of our set. Sound good?”

We answered him in whoops of cheers and loud applause, causing them all to grin as they launched into their next song.

They played seamlessly through about three more songs, enjoying the feeling of playing live in front of people again, before Y/N whooped into her own mic. “Whoo! It’s hot! Anyone else hot? Y’all staying hydrated out there?” she asked us, before flickering her gaze across the stage at Matt who was wiping his forehead. “You good, Matt?”

“Dude, it’s like a million degrees up here,” he commented, before taking a huge swig from a water bottle.

Y/N laughed. “Right. Y’all gotta understand. Matt’s from the cold states. Then there’s Vic and I who are California natives, technically, right Vic?”

“Yeah, I was born here. But I didn’t live here as long as you did.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So Vic and I are used to the heat. Matt, not so much. And Jesse? How you doing back there, J?”

“Me?” the drummer pointed at himself in confusion “Oh, I’m great!”

“Great enough to give this crowd a real surprise?” she asked, her voice laced with playful trouble, as she looked at all her bandmates. “C’mon, boys what do ya say? Wanna give this crowd something special before we go?”

Again, we all cheered and applauded as encouragement for whatever surprise they had in mind. “Alright!” Vic laughed. “Alright, you wanna go ahead and introduce it then?”

She smiled wide as she turned towards us. “Alright, everybody! We’re Arrows in Action. We’ve had a great time with y’all! So, as a thank you, we’re gonna play a new song that we haven’t released yet. Is that cool with you?” She laughed as she awaited the response of screaming, whistles, and applause. “Alright. This is called Permanent Vacation, which will be available on all listening platforms this Friday. Let’s go!”

Matt started playing a series of chords that sounded incredibly familiar, while the other three clapped to the beat. But right before the lyrics were supposed to come in, Vic started talking into his mic. “Wait, wait, wait!” he laughed. “I don’t know the lyrics to this!”

“So it’s just like every other song,” Y/N teased him with her own laugh.

“Nah, I think it’s cuz that one’s not ours.”

“Be rad if it was though,” she said, and I swear she shot me a wink. “Alright, alright. So, that one’s not ours. But this one definitely is. And it’s definitely called Permanent Vacation. And it’s out Friday.”

A new guitar and drum beat started up and Vic immediately started singing, again with the rest of the band providing back up vocals until the bridge where it was all Y/N. A soft build before a wild yell that would have torn my own vocal chords to shreds.

“I’m locked and loaded, fire away! Permanent vacation from my brain. Extend my stay another day. Far from home, not alone,” they all finished with a flurry of chords. “Thank you!” Vic croaked into the mic. “Thank you guys so much! We’re Arrows in Action, enjoy the rest of your night!”

With tired but happy smiles, they all bowed before exiting the stage. I moved to follow, but thought better of it, going to hit the drink stand first where I bought 5 beers and 4 waters. A small challenge, made slightly easier by the person working the stand putting the water bottles in a grocery bag for me. With that hanging off my arm, I held 2 beers in each hand, and my own in my teeth.

“Cal!” she laughed, her face flushed when I found them lounging in the grass. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told me as she rose to her feet to help me distribute the beers.

“I said I’d get the next round,” I offered up simply, setting down the bag and taking a seat with them all. “I brought you guys water, too.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” she laughed, tossing the bottles out anyway, and sitting back down, this time next to me.

“Shut up, Y/N, let the man do what he wants,” Jesse said, downing a water bottle in 2 gulps before turning his attention to his beer. “You’re rad. Thank you.”

“For real, man. This was really cool of you,” Vic said.

“Yeah, huge thanks,” Matt nodded.

“What they said, I guess,” Y/N laughed again, following Jesse’s lead of downing her water bottle before going for her beer. “Fuck,” she sighed. “That’s good. Thank you, really.”

“Happy to do it,” I answered. “That set was amazing, by the way. And that joke at the end was pretty clever. How long were you planning that?”

She giggled. “Uh, well Jesse and I are much more the 5sos fans than Matt and Vic are. But we’re all familiar with your music. And when we were writing the song, and settled on the title, I suggested that it would be funny to start playing your version if we ever got the chance to play it live. Which meant bugging Matt to learn the guitar parts.”

“So you’re the troublemaker of the band?” I guessed.

She shrugged, and hid behind the rim of her cup. “I mean… Depends on the day.”

We continued to lay in the grass, making small talk as we all finished our beers, before Jesse cleared his throat. “Uh… Matt, Vic. You guys wanna come with me to get a good spot for the rest of the acts?” he asked, the suggestion in his tone heavy.

Matt and Vic shared a look, before nodding. “Yeah, yeah of course,” they said, all three of them getting up.

“You assholes are just gonna leave me?” Y/N asked, looking up at them.

“Just come find us when you’re ready,” they winked. “Thanks again for the beers, Cal.”

“Assholes,” she muttered again as they all made themselves scarce. “Sorry about them.”

I laughed, waving it off. “Nah, it’s cool. And kinda nice, maybe?”

“Oh?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Uh…” her face flushed. “I mean…” she started to stammer. “Yeah. Yeah.”

I gave a half chuckle, scratching at the back of my neck. “Look, it’s fine if you’re not… I mean, I figure you probably are if they did that for you, cuz they have no reason to do it for my sake. I mean, they’re your friends and bandmates, not mine. But I know a wing man set up when I see it. But if it’s more of a meddling wing man set up, like that’s fine,” I spilled out, before realizing I was rambling.

“No!” she rushed. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” She covered her face in her hands, groaning “Oh, this is so embarrassing…” Her hands moved to push through her hair as she took a long breath to steady herself. “Of course I like you, Cal. Like before I even met you. One of those embarrassing fangirl crush type of deals. And I mean, I’m a bassist in a punk band, so you’re also someone I idolize and take inspiration from.” Slowly her gaze lifted from her lap to lock onto mine. “And then I met you today. And you’re everything I thought you’d be. Thoughtful. Generous. A bit shy, and quiet at times. Nice. And it makes the crush that much stronger, and harder to deal with. Cuz now it’s real. And I feel like I know you. And it’s just… Ugh, it spirals from there, ya know?”

“A good spiral, or a bad spiral?”

“Bit of both? Like the insecurities in me say that you’re an A-list celebrity, while I’m more of like… not an A-lister. My band’s not on the same level yours is. I mean, we play bars and small day festivals. You sell out stadiums and have world tours. There’s a clear discrepancy. But then, another part of me doesn’t give a shit about that. It sees how we’re like-minded. It sees all the ways we click, and all the ways we could work. And that’s where the cocky part comes in, where it sees the like-mindedness and the reasons we could work, and calls you an idiot if you can’t see it too. That, uh, screwed up defense mechanism of it being your loss, ya know?”

“Mhm.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I said a lot. Point is, I do like you. And, that’s that.”

“So the ball’s in my court?”

“Only if you want it to be. And if you don’t, then no. There’s no ball. No court. Just two people who have a few things in common.”

“You wanna hear what I think?”

“Go for it.”

“I think your friends left us for 2 reasons. 1 being that they’re loyal to you, and know how you feel about me. 2 being that they’re also guys. Which gives them a pretty good insight for how I’m feeling too.”

“Uh-huh…” she nodded slowly. “And how you’re feeling is…?”

I could have said the words. But I settled for leaning in, brushing my lips softly against hers for the sweetest of moments, listening to the way her next breath got stuck in her throat. I pulled away, smiling softly at her and shrugging my shoulders.

She traced her lips with her thumb, bewilderment written on her face. “Okay, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“Relax,” I chuckled, stealing her words from earlier. “It’s just a kiss.”

“Well, thanks. I’ll, uh, getcha next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @1weekago @centerlino @binxiboo

#permanent vacation #calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood x reader #musician!reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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doublekrecs · 4 years

Text

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

synopsis: your lab partner in chem is annoying.

word count: 4.2 k

college!au, barista!akaashi, e2l, mean!kuroo, meg thee stallion stan!atsumu fem!reader

warnings: a lil angsty, swearing, nsfw, smut, some semi x reader smut, fingering, oral, face sitting, drunk sex, drinking, mentions of weed, degradation, hate sex??, unprotected sex, overstimulation, a lil breathplay?

walking into a stem class, especially chemistry, you expected at least a few girls to be in there with a male majority. it’s not that you didn’t get along with boys, in fact, your best friends were men themselves. but being a girl in a science class meant constantly being talked down upon, sometimes sexualized by some weird ass incels.

so when you walked into your small class as the only girl who knew no one with nowhere to sit, you settled for the next best thing: sitting next to a guy who had seemingly okay vibes. and you spotted exactly that. you couldn’t deny that he was kind of hot, a little rugged looking with his messy rooster hair. though he was only sitting down, you were also able to tell he had some height on him.

you took your seat next to him and waited in silence for the professor to start the class. this class is only a semester long. this repeated in your head like a mantra. one semester. one semester. and it’s next to a seemingly normal hot guy. you could do this. as the professor got right into the topic, you got to work right away. notes were scribbled, important topics were highlighted, your focus completely spent on the class.

“god, your perfume reeks. what did you do? dump the whole bottle?”

you looked to your left. gears were turning in your head and you felt yourself tense at the sound of his first spoken words. are you fucking serious? yeah, you liked your vanilla scented perfume. bokuto did, too. hinata loved it. akaashi was indifferent, but he never said anything negative. one semester, you repeated to yourself. one semester.

“your hair looks like absolute shit, but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

and that was your first impression of kuroo tetsuro, your lab partner. a complete asshole.

“and he fucking asked me if i dumped a bottle of perfume on myself! i’m not going to survive this semester with this rooster bitch.”

you sighed loudly and turned to bokuto and hinata who listened intently. while you came down from your red, hot anger, the faces of these two angels helped you feel good again.

“i’m sorry, (y/n), but there’s this one guy in my math class you might get along with. he said he was taking the same chem class, so just tell me when you need help,” bokuto responded, putting his arm around you, “but for now, it’s dinner time.”

“from where?”

“osamu. hinata won a bet against atsumu and now we have free onigiris.”

hinata snickered in the kitchen while akaashi typed away on his laptop. your roommates really were the sweetest.

for the next two weeks, the class slowly started more and more labs. you and kuroo mostly stayed silent unless you needed to talk about what to do with various liquids or what solid formed from what. it was okay like this. he was tolerable, except when-

“you’re off by one mililliter.”

“what?”

“you heard me, you’re off by a milliliter.”

you turned to kuroo and your sight is met with his usual stoic expression, “does it even matter? this is a huge beaker and one milliliter is like nothing compared to the rest of the solution.”

“you want to get consistent results, don’t you? so stop being sloppy or else we’re both going to fail this class. you can’t treat this class like the way you treat your perfume.”

shock took over, then boiling anger.

“sloppy? you come here looking like a fucking rooster.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you brushed your fucking hair in the last 3 years? have you looked in the mirror?”

just one semester. one semester.

you calmly composed yourself, remembering that bokuto and hinata had planned a movie night. you can get through this stupid class period. -

“and he lost his shit over one fucking milliliter! can you believe it?”

akaashi listened as he poured the milk into your coffee. you always liked to visit the cafe during the slow hours to check up on your roomie. plus, the quiet atmosphere, the smell of pastries, and akaashi’s pretty face was the perfect setting for ranting about your stupid fucking lab partner.

“i don’t know, (y/n). he’s a bit of an asshole, but maybe he’s just meticulous. it could be a good thing, you know.”

“metic-a-what? i need you to translate your big boy vocabulary, kaash.”

“you know i hate that nickname.”

“yet you have no problem when bokuto calls you that. you’re warming up.” he sighed in response while you gave a toothy grin back up at him.

“you got me there. but what i’m trying to say is that he pays attention to small details. he looks at little intricacies, especially in your assignments.”

“intri-ca-what?”

the next month of chem went by fast. you and kuroo had little snarky remarks here and there, but nothing too bad. he was just less of an asshole for right now.

you sat in your usual spot with the same scent of vanilla lingering on you since the first day of school. the class period went by with the usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check. until halfway through the lecture-

“shit.” the highlighter ink was running low, your notes were getting less and less vibrant. while you knew highlighting signified some kind of shallow understanding of the subject, color coding helped you organize your thoughts.

you made a note to yourself to buy a new pack the next day.

but then the next day came and there was already a new one at your desk. midliners, in fact, the ones with prettier colors. the ones that were slightly more expensive than your usual ones with a post it note that read your name on it. you had no problem with accepting this anonymous gift, picking it up with admiration shining in your eyes. now you can continue class with your usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check.

“so no one was going to tell us that we were going to throw a party tonight?”

akaashi spoke sternly to the two children on the couch while you prepared some snacks. for a party. that you discovered was happening tonight. ten minutes ago.

“aghaaashi, we haven’t thrown one in awhile. plus, it’s been awhile since all of us drank together.” bokuto whined. hinata had his full puppy dog eyes on as if he was a little boy begging their dad for a puppy.

“fine. but if anyone throws up, you guys are the ones cleaning the bathroom.”

while akaashi turned around, the children celebrated by excitedly putting out their drinks. this was going to be a long night.

there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house.

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for a fun night.

tsumu drunkenly held onto you as if you were some kind of pillar. who knew it only took a few shots for such a big man to lose his ability to walk straight?

“(y/n)!!! wap is playing!!!”

“i know, baby, it’s your song!!”

“i know damn well flattykawa isn’t stealing the fucking show!! hold my drink, babe.”

that’s when you kissed his cheek good luck and your buddy disappeared onto the dance floor. and your eyes were met with the sight of a pretty boy staring at you.

“kaashi, who’s that?” your roommate turned to you, the pretty boy, then back to you.

“semi eita. he was in one of my literature classes. he was also on the volleyball team at shiratorizawa in high school.”

“the one with big daddy ushiwaka?”

“yeah,” he grimaced, “he’s in a band now.”

“A BAND??”

“you know what? just remember to use protection-“

kaashi was interrupted by the sight of tsumu throwing it back to hinata. the tangerine haired child really was doing his best, but tsumu was a big man. although, he really did show oikawa up.

“shoyo is so small. is he going to be okay?”

“not my problem.”

your focus went back up to the blondish grey haired musician. ruffled hair, cuffed jeans, a loose shirt. semi eita. huh. you took your last sip and discarded the red solo cup. you took another peak at him. bedroom eyes.

“hey, (y/n), the guy in my math class just got here- oh.”

“i’m gonna have to meet him some other time, bokuto.”

kuroo poured himself another drink and immediately found bokuto full of energy and red faced from the alcohol. a hyena laugh filled the room at the sight of hinata and tsumu, until he scanned the rest of room and saw you. in the hallway. with some guy with grey hair. who you led to an empty room. his heart dropped a little, but he didn’t know why.

“hey, my roommate is kinda busy right now so i can’t really introduce you two,” bokuto apologized, “why do you look like that?”

“like what, owl head?”

“sad.” he spoke with concern.

“oh, i thought i saw this one girl from one of my classes. but it doesn’t matter. let’s go drink.”

not even ten minutes later, you were in your bedroom with the pretty grey haired musician, most of your clothes already on the floor. you straddled him and cupped his face as his lips met yours, then your neck, then your shoulder.

his fingers found their way into your panties, quickly finding your clit as he sucked the sweet spot on your neck.

“s-semi.” you whined, grinding on his hand.

“you wanna cum on my fingers first, babe?”

you nodded quickly, lips once again meeting his. he laid you down on your bed, head resting in the crook of your neck. you felt two fingers enter you as semi curled them, his thumb rubbing your clit. the pace was agonizingly slow, but the more vocal you were, the more he sped up.

“you’re so fucking wet, baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbled in your ears.

his mouth made contact with your nipple, swirling his hot tongue over the hardened bud. his mouth continued to move south, eventually replacing his thumb. you felt his tongue circle your clit quickly as his fingers continued the assault on your g spot. you clenched around his fingers, letting out small whines as the coil in you began to tighten.

“i’m going to cum, semi.” you breathed out.

he let out a low groan of affirmation, “don’t hold back, then.” his fingers began to move faster, your g spot being hit even harder. his mouth was back on your clit, sucking the small nub harshly. your thighs began to shake as his fingers fucked you through your high.

he pulled his fingers and his mouth met yours once again, your teeth pulling on his bottom lip. his fingers were brought up to your lips and you sucked on them greedily. this was going to be one hell of a night.

the crackling sound of the oil filled your ears as akaashi cracked some eggs onto the pan. the smell of food and coffee drifted in the apartment. the morning after was always nice for you two since you guys rarely drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol. sure, you had to take out some trash and clean up here and there, but surprisingly, no one threw up last night.

“when do you think bokuto and hinata are going to wake up this time?” you asked sipping your coffee while akaashi added rice onto the pan.

“hinata’s awake, he just feels like shit. bokuto fell asleep in the bath tub, so you know the drill.”

you nodded, walking up to the fridge to make your classic hangover concoction. as if on cue, bokuto walked into the living room with his fingers pressed onto his temple and hair looking all sad.

“good morning, you baby.”

“you hooked up with semi, didn’t you?” bokuto responded with a smirk on his face.

“i did what?”

and that was the moment semi decided to emerge from your bedroom shamelessly. his hair was messy, his clothes were all disheveled, and the memories from last night hit you all at once. you didn’t even notice that he was sleeping next to you in your bed when you walked straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

“morning.” he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. bokuto snickered while akaashi was unphased by the interaction.

“morning.” you responded, your face getting hot as you recalled the events of last night. he was good. very good. you couldn’t deny the fact that he had some talented fingers. and a pretty good stroke game.

“you want any coffee?” akaashi offered, as semi headed towards the door.

“no, i’m good. i’m supposed to eat breakfast with wakatoshi.” he replied groggily. semi let out a yawn and bid bokuto and akaashi a farewell before he pulled you aside.

“thanks for last night. call me if you want to do it again some other time. or not.”

you nodded, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as he left.

“(y/n), you fucking asshole!! you were supposed to get with the guy in my math class!! i knew him in high school he’s a big sweet nerd!” bokuto whined.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll meet him when there’s another party. me and semi were just a one time thing.” you brushed him off as you put all the ingredients in the blender for the hungover children.

“all of you are going to have to collaborate with your partner for this lab report.”

you threw your head back with a silent groan. this was going to be a long assignment. you looked to the asshole on your left. his face was expressionless as he looked back at you.

“i know you despise me, but we both want an A on this.”

you couldn’t disagree with him. he had become more tolerable the past few months, often lending you notes that you had missed with the addition of some snarky comment. plus, you often got good scores on your assignments, some of his insight being helpful. at this point, you had developed the habit of going to the cafe akaashi worked at after to rant. he would make you some coffee, lend you some advice, and calm you down as you ranted about your asshole lab partner. it was a whole routine.

“fine. the cafe after class. my friend works there and it isn’t too crowded.”

“okay.”

the rest of the class period went by in the blink of an eye and you finally found yourselves entering the small shop. the scent of coffee and pastries filled your nostrils and a sense of happiness and familiarity flowed through your veins.

“kuroo?” akaashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“kaaaashi!!” he responded excitedly, “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, i gotta make money somehow. plus, (y/n) here likes to snag some free coffee during my shifts.” akaashi narrowed his eyes at you.

“wait, you two know each other?” you asked. how did this asshole know your sweet, stoic roommate?

“our volleyball teams played a lot in high school. i used to practice with bokuto and akaashi. you’re their roommate?”

the barista nodded as he prepared your iced coffee, “i was just at your party a week ago. small world.”

kuroo looked at you and the puzzle pieces came together in his head. so this was the cute roommate bokuto boasted about. not bad.

“how do you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner.” you grumbled quietly.

“you wanna say that a little louder, sweetheart?”

you flinched at the nickname while kaashi tried his best to hide a smile. it was a small world indeed.

the next few hours were spent sitting across from kuroo, entering data, highlighting important results, interpreting the recorded numbers. it was plain busy work in a cafe, but it oddly felt warm. when it came to writing about applications, kuroo seemed a little better than just tolerable. you would have an idea and he wouldn’t shut it down. instead, he engaged in them and spoke with intent. you would make a small connection to an environmental solution and his face would light up and his eyes would widen in excitement. the input that followed was filled with insight and it almost felt like his heart would pour out. he really did live and breathe chemistry. it was nice to see someone just as passionate as you are.

the bell of the cafe rang signifying another customer. you instinctively looked up, your face immediately lighting up.

“tsum-tsum!!” you jumped excitedly, “i haven’t seen you since you threw back to hinata bokuto’s party!!”

“please do not remind me,” he said with a disappointed sigh, but quickly turned back to his trademark smirk, “but did i look better than flattykawa?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“no.”

“wow, that was cold.”

while tsumu ordered his muffin, you let kuroo know that you were going to take a small ten minute break to catch up with tsumu to which he responded with a grumble.

you quickly got up and sat at another table with tsumu, quickly catching up about the past week and telling him all about kuroo.

“ooo (y/n), you wanna kiss him so bad? he probably wants it, too. i can feel his death glares.” tsumu said with a wide grin and raised eyebrows.

“what? no! that’s my asshole lab partner!” you whisper yelled back.

“whatever you say. the fact you two hate each other thickens the sexual tension, baby girl,” tsumu stood up and placed a kiss on your cheek, “remember to come to my volleyball game on friday, there’s gonna be a party at later that night. i’m sure bokuto told you already.”

you nodded and pulled him into a hug before he left.

“so miya atsumu, huh?” kuroo spoke up as you returned with your iced coffee.

“what about him?”

“you’re dating? i don’t see another reason to waste time that could be used on a project that’s worth a good chunk of our grade.” he replied snarkily.

“he’s a friend, i don’t see why you need to be a dick about me wanting to catch up with a friend.” your head hurt. fifteen minutes ago, he was sweet and insightful. but now, he was a cold asshole again. what the fuck was this guy’s problem?”

“well maybe you should stop slutting around with your ‘friends’ while we’re supposed to be working.” you scoffed. slutting around? is he fucking serious?

“i can’t believe i thought you were a sweet person for a few hours. i can’t stay here if i’m just going to get slut shamed for the rest of our work time. i’ll see you in class tomorrow, you fucking asshole.”

you got up and checked up on akaashi who was already clocking out. he was going to get an earful on the way home tonight.

“(y/n), you better not hook up with anyone tonight. you’re meeting my classmate tonight and i don’t want to have to tell him that you were ‘busy’ again.” bokuto pointed at you with a stern look on his face.

“yeah okay, ko.”

“good.”

you walked out to the living room with some light makeup and a skirt. hinata’s eyes lit up as he sped towards you. akaashi rolled his eyes while bo coughed.

“(y/n), you look so pretty!! when did you get that skirt? oh my!!” hinata poked and bombarded you with compliments and questions like the sweet child he is.

“(y/n), why are you wearing your horny stress outfit?” akaashi asked, glaring at the skirt.

“my what?”

“whenever you want to relieve some stress by hooking up with someone, you wear a skirt, dummy,” bo explained, “oh no. the victim better be my math buddy.”

you huffed. sure, they weren’t wrong, but still.

“is this about your lab partner?” akaashi questioned, pulling you aside from bokuto and shoyo.

“maybe,” you paused, “okay, yeah, but there’s been so much tension after that incident and i hate it. it’s stressing me out and the project is due in a few days. let me hook up with bo’s friend.”

“fine.”

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for another fun night. now, you were just waiting for bo’s nerd friend to appear.

“tsum tsum!!” you yelled happily, immediately jumping into the arms of one of your best friends.

“i’m glad you made it, (y/n), i missed your ass,” he kissed your cheek, “so who’s the victim tonight?”

“bo’s friend if he’s into that. i’m supposed to be meeting him here.”

“ohhh, the nerdy one, right?”

you nodded while taking a sip of your drink. you already felt more relaxed from the environment of the party. plus, a faint scent of weed filled your nose. it was probably from suna.

“kuroo-san!!” bokuto called out. wait. did you hear him correctly?

“bokuto-san!!” oh, no.

“(y/n), come here! this is my friend from high school! the math one-”

you and kuroo stared at each other, his face expressionless, yours morphing into disbelief. everything bokuto said drowned in the background noise of the party. and suddenly, you connected the dots. oh shit.

“y-you!” you pointed at him, unable to form a full sentence.

“me?”

“yeah, you!”

bokuto paused and watched the scene happening in front of him, “you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner, you dumbass!” you yelled while bokuto’s hair spiked up in nervousness. he decided to slowly back away and find hinata before something happened to him.

you poured more henny into your red solo cup and prepared another drink for kuroo. yeah, he was an ass, but you might as well give him a chance to loosen up. maybe get an apology. you held out the cup to him and he muttered a small thank you.

“so,” he started, “our project is due in a few days.”

you sat down next to him while mindlessly playing with the ends of your skirt, “yeah, i guess.” you two sat in awkward silence for another minute.

“look, asshole-”

“i was just about the apologize, but then you decided to bitch again-”

“you didn’t talk and i want to leave this situation immediately so i can go hook up with-”

“with semi? with atsumu? is that the reason you came?”

“you’ve been on my goddamn nerves lately, i think i’m allowed to sleep with whoever i want so that i can relieve some-”

you were cut off by a pair of soft lips on yours. maybe it was the alcohol, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. the taste of liquor and something sweet on his mouth was intoxicating and you wanted more of it. but you hated him. he was your asshole lab partner after all. but he was also an excellent kisser. kuroo pulled away quickly, but before he can say anything, you spoke.

“what the fuck was that, kuroo?”

“i don’t know, but do you want to do it again?”

“...yes.”

and so you both got up, drunkenly stumbling to a random room. you were immediately pushed onto a bed, kuroo sucking on the spot below your ear as he pinned your body down to the bed.

“you know, i fucking hate the smell of vanilla, but because of you, it’s become one of my favorite scents,” you blushed at the comment as he pulled down your underwear beneath your skirt, “lace, huh? were you planning to get laid?”

“you’ve been stressing me out, what do you fucking think?” you responded with an attitude.

he began rubbing your clit in small circles and you let out a small sigh of relief, “so, you’re a fucking brat, huh? is this how it’s going to go?”

“well, you’re a fucking asshole, so i don’t know how else you expected this to happen.” he pressed harder and quickened his pace as you mewled under him. he found the sweet spot on your neck and began to suck harshly. you felt two fingers enter you slowly while thumb continued the assault on your clit.

“f-faster, tetsuro,” you cried out as he sucked more hickies onto your neck. he curled his fingers and assaulted your g-spot harshly while you clenched on his fingers.

“you’re already close, i can tell,” and then he halted his movements, “but i don’t think you deserve to cum yet.” you whined.

and with that, he entered his fingers into your sensitive cunt once again, kissing his way down your body until he reached your clit which he greedily sucked. you let out small whimpers and moans and you swore you felt him smirk. then a sudden feeling of emptiness.

“fuck you!” you pushed kuroo off of you, getting on top and straddling his lap, “i’ll make myself cum.”

your lips met in a heated kiss and he groaned as you grinded on his clothed crotch, “you’re a fucking brat.”

“i don’t care. shut the fuck up and let me sit on your face.”

he brought your pussy up to his head and gripped your thighs ensuring that you would stay in place while you lifted up your skirt. you felt kitten licks on your clit which only made you go lower until you were able to feel more of his tongue. he licked a strip from your pussy back up to your nub, sucking it harshly. you let out another moan, gripping his hair which only egged him on. the wet muscle found its way into your pussy and fucked you deliciously.

“fuck, tetsu, i’m coming-”

with the sounds you made, your skirt, your tits, and the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, kuroo thought he was going to cream his pants. you shamelessly grinded on his face until the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter until it eventually broke.

you removed yourself from his face and appreciated the image of your juices on his face, his thick lashes, and sharp cheekbones, until you snapped out of it and went to work on discarding his pants. slipping off his underwear, his cock sprang free. pre cum spilled from the pink tip. sucking a hickey on his inner thigh, you took his cock into your hand, slowly moving it up and down to agitate him as he thrusted into your fist. taking the tip in your mouth, you sucked gently until his hands found themselves tangling into your hair and pushed your head down until he hit the back of your throat.

“you look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock,” you sucked in your cheeks and he let out another groan, “who knew this was the way to get you to shut the fuck up.”

you could only moan at his response, sending vibrations down his dick. your head bobbed up and down until you pulled him out of your mouth. you smirked, drool and pre cum dripping down your chin, knowing you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

bringing up your lips to his ear, you spoke, “how does it feel now?”

he replied by pushing down onto the bed and pinning down your wrists. you could feel his tip rubbing your clit, “i was planning to cum in your pussy anyways, slut.”

you felt yourself get wetter at the sound of his voice until he swiftly pushed himself, instantly bottoming out. the stretch stung, but the mix of pleasure and pain had you wanting more. your skirt cinched around your waist, the sight making him even harder.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he gave you another kiss before he pulled out all the way and snapped his hips back into you.

his mouth made it way onto your hardened nipple, swirling the bud with his tongue as he set a fast pace for his thrusts. you were vocal, whining every time he buried his cock inside of you. wanting you closer, kuroo harshly grabbed your ass and pulled your body into a new position that hit deeper into you.

“you’re a fucking slut, you know that?” his pace quickened. you were a babbling mess, your breasts bouncing and the knot in your stomach tightening. the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin filled the room as you came closer to your high. his hand squeezed the sides of you neck firmly. the only thing you were able to feel was him.

“you think atsumu can fuck you like this?”

you were unable to respond coherently as he pounded harder into you, your legs wrapping his waist as you came again. he kept going.

“how about i make you cum again, brat?”

“i-i don’t think i can,” you whimpered.

“sure, you can,” he gripped your hips tighter, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. you felt completely spent, but he refused to quit. he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly in fast circles and you felt your second high coming.

“f-fuck (y/n).” he let out a final groan as your pussy milked his cock while you saw stars.

kuroo laid on the bed while you two distanced yourselves. you didn’t know what to say, so you scanned your surroundings.

“shit.” you muttered. “what?”

“this is atsumu’s room.”

you both looked at each other for a few seconds before he let out a hyena laugh. you giggled along with him.

“how do you know?”

“i’ve been in here before. just didn’t quite register where we were. we could have fucked in a closet and i wouldn’t notice.” you answered in a light tone.

“so, you’ve been in atsumu’s room before?”

“i mean, yeah. to hang out and stuff,” you turned to him, “why do you care so much?”

“well i thought that reason was obvious considering we just had sex,” he grumbled, “now we’re three feet apart and everything feels awkward.”

“i mean i couldn’t tell if it was just sexual tension from hate or if you actually liked me. it’s kind of hard to tell considering other.. events?”

“well, i like you. i thought you were pretty ever since the first day i met you. i just didn’t know how to tell you so i insulted your perfume and gave you some highlighters,” he rubbed the back of neck, “sorry.” he added quietly.

“sorry,” he looked at you in shock, “for, uh, calling you an asshole, i guess.” you mumbled looking back at him.

“i’m also sorry for calling you a slut. i might have been a bit jealous when i saw you with atsumu. and semi that one night.” he awkwardly laughed and looked the opposite direction.

so he wasn’t good with his words. you scooted your body closer to him and wrapped your arms around him as you got into position to straddle his lap. your head rested on the crook of his neck and his breath hitched.

“don’t worry. you don’t have to say anything.” you kissed the spot below his ear and beamed at him when you pulled away. he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“why are you blushing?” you asked, smirking up at him.

“it’s the ethanol,” he said quickly attempting to hide his face by looking away, “you know how alcohol makes your face turn red and stuff.”

“is the alcohol also the only reason we just fucked?”

“n-no!”

“then do you want to go another round?” you asked innocently, grinding on him once again.

“ye-”

“(y/n)? what the fuck did you and rooster head do in my bed?”

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dangermousie · 3 years

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Something Happened in Bali eps 1-2 rewatch thoughts

It's really interesting, rewatching this. God, I'd almost forgotten how much I love Jo In Sung. LOVE. I mean, I love him and his nervous energy so much that I don't even notice So Ji Sub, who normally I really like. (ide note - A Dirty Carnival was the best Korean movie I have ever seen, and what made me truly and utterly lose it for him - but it was so brutally hopeless, it made me depressed for days. Go watch!) Anyway, back to the drama. 1. I'd almost forgotten how unpleasant the two guys and Other Girl are in this, at the start. None of them are monsters (though by the end the Secondary Girl comes close, IMO, even if I end up feeling a repelled kind of pity for her) but they are all in their selfish shells - it's little things, like not helping Soo Jung with her heavy bag or treating her as an extra in their lives. Even their kindness is this thoughtless kind. It's funny because I am not sure if they change in niceness quotient that much (though both the men become much more desperately vulnerable, especially Jae Min) but I guess I get to know them so well and their reasons for being the way they are, I sort of end up not caring - I end up adoring Jae Min as a character, especially, so much. Even if he is the biggest trainwreck I have ever seen as a kdrama lead in my 15+ years of watching kdramas. 2. Soo Jung. I adore her. You could see how annoyed she is she is dealing with the tour group from hell (the other 3) but the way she pushes and carries on is WONDERFUL. So is her drunken camaraderie with Jae Min. She is in another universe from the poised, iced, controlled Young Joo. But it's interesting, she seems so (relatively) well-adjusted compared to the rest of them but as the drama unfolds, you see that this hard-earned cheerfulness is a facade and she is very broken too - between her and Jae Min, I am not sure, which one is more screwed-up. For him, it's his family, but for her, it's her poverty that has made her so. Ha Ji Won SLAYS in this role (so do the rest of the cast, of course.) She’s rough, she’s desperate, she’s grasping, she’s vulnerable, she’s irresistible - in other hands you would never get how two screwed-up, closed-off men would fall so desperately for someone so greedy, so grasping, so flawed - but here you are drawn to her vividness, to her joy, to her intensity, to her unique combo of sunshine and extreme damage. 3. You know, there are hints about her screwed-upness even this early on - the scene where Jae Min offers her $$$ for a one-night stand and she calls him a jerk (and you see by his reaction he doesn't even understand that what he said was insulting - he is puzzled. In his world, everything can be bought and sold, and there is no such thing as affection.) and then asks whether he is going to pay before or after. In her world, there is no room for the grand gesture, for throwing money in his face. She leaves only because he kicks her out (giving her money but not doing anything) telling her to buy her new shoes (hers are broken) and saying "it's not fun any more" (the first of many instances she really throws him off any usual ways he deals with things). And then she trips on her broken heels walking out, sprawling in the lobby, inelegantly grabbing and picking up money. 4. One of the biggest delights of this rewatch for me is contrasting in my head the way Jae Min is going to be with her later - utterly desperate and "brought down" and willing to beg and beg and beg, and the way he is now - emotionally detached, with all the 'power' on his side - I mean, contrast his propositioning her for that one-night stand and the scene where they finally make love, a dozen eps from now. Though she is totally rattling him even now - I love the scene where he first truly notices her - seeing her in the parking lot trying to fix her shoes, eating, and drinking. She is just so REAL and alive and immediate. No wonder he's caught (and then quickly looks away). 5. Jae Min's father needs to die in a fire after being slowly cut with a myriad of razors - the scene in his office in ep 2 where he is practicing golf in his office and Jae Min flinches any time the golf club is in his vicinity, and almost stutters, just - RAGE. Increased 1000x by what I know he does later. But I confess to being amused in the scene where he is throwing things at Jae Min during the board meeting and a flunkie keeps moving things up to him to throw - folders, bottle of water, so he won't run out of things - a definition of a brown-noser.

6. I love how oddly real this drama feels in its filming - people are not glamorized within an inch of their lives and there is no glossiness, no studied detachment, no appeal to coolness or w/e. It is what it is and it knows it. God, I love this drama!

7. (The below is spoilery for the whole thing) Bali has the distinction of having the most dysfunctional couple I have ever shipped. Years of therapy were needed for those two. Yes, my OTP was Jae Min/Soo Jung, despite the fact that the otp's end was murder/suicide. I don't care, I still shipped them - the ending of the drama is one of my favorite drama moments, in actuality - Jae Min becoming more and more unhinged because of his nightmarish family and then finally he believes Soo Jung just played him in order to scam money and ruin his family with her lover. He tracks them down to Bali and finds them in bed. Ironically, Soo Jung has just finished telling her lover that she wants to leave him and go back to Korea to look for Jae Min because it's him she wants. Jae Min, of course, does not hear her (and he is so catatonic at that point, I doubt it would have registered if he did hear). So he shoots her and her lover dead as they lie there. But while her lover is dead asap, Soo Jung has time to look at Jae Min and tell him 'saranghae' which is about the most awesome thing ever - she has never ever told him she loved him before, not through all his efforts to win her heart, not even when they made love. And now she is telling him as she is dying, because it's important to her for him to know before she dies - there are no games or conditions. And of course, Jae Min snapped out of it as soon as he shot and he is falling apart as is and then he hears her tell him she loves him and his face - oh my God. And he goes outside and kills himself and I sit there bawling and hoping his horrific family all have collective heart attacks and die.

Yes. I ship THAT. I don't care what it makes me. The drama makes no bones that Jae Min is beyond messed up - I am kinda amazed he is walking and talking, to be honest. His father wins the incontrovertible award for the worst kdrama father ever and if you know kdramas you know what a feat that is. The scene where Jae Min is on his knees in front of his father, weeping and begging to be allowed to have Soo Jung and his father beats him half into unconsciousness and then tells him it's Soo Jung's fault and he will go after her next and make her disappear and Jae Min is left pleading that he did not mean it and it's not Soo Jung's fault and he misunderstood? FLAMES. FLAMES WHEN I JUST THINK ABOUT IT. So his love for Soo Jung is no help - I don't think any woman could have 'fixed' him, and certainly the hugely messed-up despite her sunny demeanor Soo Jung, with her own major issues and fragility, was about the last person to do so. However, even if they could have worked out their happiness, with the help of some really high-priced therapy, his family made it impossible - in fact they turned the screws on even worse, not caring that their actions were plainly driving him into nonfunctionality land. But then - how else could it end with all the destruction and damage and desperation on both sides and his having no experience with any expression of love that was not entangled with violence. And in context of fiction, the OTP that has the potential for helping each other but dooms each other instead is my jam SO MUCH!

#something happened in bali #kdrama

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dickspeightjrs · 4 years

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Do It For A Dollar (au / 1.5k words / college student!cas / actor!dean)

Prompt 18 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @breathingdestiel

ao3 link

The warm heat of the New York summer clings to Castiel as he walks along to his favourite coffee shop. (It’s his favourite for one simple reason - it’s cheap and he’s a broke college student.)

Despite the air conditioning of the shop welcoming him in when he arrives, Castiel decides to take a seat under the awning outside. As a student, struggling to pay for college, and all the other costs that come with simply being alive, Castiel has to find entertainment in the smaller things in life. One such entertainment is buying a coffee and sitting, just watching people go by.

It’s a beautiful day outside so there’s plenty of people for Castiel to flit his eyes over as they walk past, going about their days. He’ll likely never see them again and that thought alone fascinates him immensely. The idea that your life can seem so huge and overwhelming and yet there’s seven billion of them walking around the planet at this moment. Seven billion perspectives.

Castiel’s eyes follow a bobbing balloon, clutched in the hand of a small child babbling to his mother. As the balloon disappears out of eye shot, Castiel’s focus is snapped to what looks like a couple of trailers pulling up and some guys with cameras jumping out. It looks as though they’re filming something across the street.

That was something Castiel had found it odd getting used to about living in New York. There was always some movie or show being filmed around the city. If he didn’t see it himself, he always heard about it. He’s at college to study film after all.

He squints against the beating sun, to try to get a better look. People watching is sure to get a whole lot better if the people he is watching are celebrities.

A couple of minutes pass and Castiel is starting to lose hope that he’s actually going to see anything before he leaves. He’s just about to get up from his seat when he chances a glance across the street again.

It seems something must be starting as there’s a rather hyper looking man holding a microphone and talking into a camera. The man must be introducing someone as he suddenly holds out an arm to bring someone into shot.

Oh god, it’s Dean Winchester! That man is a legend in film and he’s only thirty. Castiel had been hoping that they’d study some Dean’s movies and performances in his classes. There is so emotion Dean can’t portray with intense accuracy and believability. His latest movie was a heart-wrenching story in which he played a monster hunter who fell in love with his angel best friend, only for them to be ripped away from each other in a scene that left Castiel breathless.

The man with the microphone is now shouting things at people on the street, while Dean seems to just be standing next to him. Castiel can’t quite make out what the man is saying but members of the public seem to be bewildered and are walking away quickly from the mad man - Castiel can’t say he blames them.

Both men suddenly pick up the pace, jogging down the street until they stop abruptly and a microphone gets put in another strangers’ face. This person looks confused until they do a double-take and spot Dean. Finally, Castiel thinks, everyone should know who Dean is. The stranger says something that makes Dean throw his head back with a belt of laughter.

Gosh, that man is truly beautiful. Castiel doesn’t imagine they’ll come over to his side of the street and he is definitely much too nervous to pretend to casually cross the street as if he had no idea what is happening there. Instead, he decides that, if Dean is still around after they finish filming whatever this is, he’ll pluck up the courage to go over and say hi. (To brag about it in class tomorrow, if nothing else.)

“Would you kiss Dean Winchester for a dollar?!!?” Castiel hears the hyper man’s voice shout to the next unsuspecting member of the public. He snorts to himself. There’s no doubt, he would do a lot more with Dean for a lot less than a dollar, if given the chance.

Whatever game the two men seem to be playing carries on for a while longer. Castiel sits and watches them film for a while, plans to leave forgotten in favour of watching Dean.

Dean looks like a nice person. When the microphone man shouts at people and even pushes some away, Dean always makes sure to catch them before they leave and give them a hug or handshake. And Castiel can’t help it every time Dean laughs, he lets out a little laugh too, though he covers his mouth so the people enjoying their coffee around him don’t think he’s strange.

Eventually, it looks like filming is winding down. The camera guy drops his camera from his shoulder and walks off back to one of the trailers. Now the spotlight is off him, the mad man’s energy has left him and he’s just taking in quiet tones with Dean. They must be saying goodbye because Dean claps a hand on the guy’s shoulder and shakes his hand before heading towards the trailers too.

Castiel drinks the final drops of his coffee and Dean doesn’t return. Figuring he’s missed his chance to say hi to Dean (not that he’d have worked up the courage anyway), Castiel picks up his things and throws his coffee cup in the trash. At least, he got to see one of his favourite actors in the flesh, not many people can say that. Plus, he couldn’t stay for longer, he’d already spent too much on coffee to keep his seat outside, which wasn’t good for his student budget.

Compared to the walk to the coffee shop earlier that day, the weather is now cooler under the setting sun and Castiel relishes the reprieve from the heat. His mind begins to wander to other things, mostly his new short film he’s got to work on for school.

Just as he’s about to cross at the end of the street, he hears someone shout from behind him.

“Wait!”

Castiel frowns and turns to quickly look over his shoulder, though he’s not actually expecting the person to be shouting to him.

Only, when his eyes fall onto the source of the voice, they immediately go wide in shock.

Dean Winchester is standing in front of him, green eyes filled with… nerves?

“Uh,” Dean says, as if he wasn’t expecting Castiel to actually turn around, “I noticed you watching us film from across the street. And I guess I just wanted to say that you look cute when you’re laughing. You shouldn’t hide it.”

When Castiel’s brain finally decides to reboot itself, he replies. “I was only trying to hide it because I didn’t want to look like an idiot.”

“I’m sure you could never do that, man.” Dean says, a small smile creeping at the corner of his mouth.

Castiel blushes and looks down at the pavement.

A comfortable, happy silence falls on them.

But then, Castiel frowns when he sees Dean reach into his back pocket. He tilts his head in confusion. The confusion doesn’t clear when Dean pulls out a dollar.

Castiel gives Dean a questioning look.

Dean clears his throat and holds out the dollar to Castiel. “Would you kiss Dean Winchester for a dollar?”

Castiel makes an unattractive snort of laughter at Dean’s gesture. He places his hand over Dean’s and gently pushes it away.

“I don’t need a dollar to want to kiss you, Dean.” He whispers, finding courage from the kind eyes Dean is showing him. “Plus, it’s a little crowded on this street, and people are starting to watch.” He flicks his eyes around them where some people have started taking their phones out to film Dean Winchester talking to this random guy on the street.

Dean deflates slightly under the attention.

“But,” Castiel says and notices Dean brighten up again, “if you wanted to find somewhere more private and, perhaps, put that dollar towards dinner, maybe we could talk a little more about that kiss.”

Dean’s smile could rival the beaming summer sun.

* * *

Two years later, Billy Eichner (turns out shouty microphone guy had a name, who knew?) presents them with a gift at their wedding.

Unbeknownst to them until that moment, some of the crew had noticed Dean run after Castiel on the day they met and they’d filmed what they could from afar.

All their guests chuckle when they see Dean try to offer Castiel a dollar to kiss him. Dean groans and hides his face in Castiel’s neck. Castiel runs a comforting hand down Dean’s back.

“In your defence, it was incredibly adorable.” Castiel says.

“Ugh”, Dean groans, “that doesn’t help, Cas.” He lifts his head to look at Castiel in the eyes, pouting like a sulking child.

Castiel smiles at his grumpy husband, and places a soothing kiss to his lips.

Yes. He definitely didn’t need a dollar to do that for the rest of his life.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it Ivana! Sorry it took so long, I had a whole other idea before this but scrapped it because I couldn’t make it work lmao

If you’re not familiar with ‘Billy On The Street’ go look it up on YouTube. It’s hilarious.

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover @aelysianmuse @2musiclover2 @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @50shadesofsubtext @destielle

(let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, we don’t have to be mutuals!)

#destiel #destiel fic #destielfanficnet #dean winchester #castiel #myfic #fluff #au #1k #collegeau #actor!dean #student!cas #prompt fill #quite happy with this one #might do a time stamp or two for this one #just like the little universe i've created #also notice the deancas s15 reference #because i'm in full clown mode

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domesticblisss · 3 years

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Nahër

Walter x Female Reader (Nicknamed ‘Hase’) Mob AU! Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) Word Count: 2517 Warnings: Smut. Choking, PiV, fingering, cum play, mild degradation, alcohol mention, drugs mention. A/N: Sooo, this happened. There’ll be a part 2. Might make it a series if I have enough attention span for it (and if you guys like it too!)

Honestly, I don’t know how I got here. Actually, I do. I met Axel a few weeks ago while buying groceries at the supermarket near my new apartment when we ran into each other. He was accompanied by four other men, all dressed similar in dark jeans and polo shirts. A very menacing look on their faces, they looked dangerous too, not the type that would hurt you for no reason, but the type that you respect just for their existence, the type that would give you a warning. Their presence was their warning.

Funny thing is that you don’t expect this whole vibe from good looking men, which, I’m going to be honest with you, is their case. Let me see if I can describe them properly. First is Axel, we met on the first year of high school, he was a tall, lanky, shy kid. Beautiful green eyes, blonde hair, the highest cheekbones I’ve ever seen with a permanent tinge of red in them. He looked like a Cherub. It was so funny but also a pain to watch all the girls throw themselves at him to be met with pure silence. He didn’t have any friends, the only person he would interact was me during all of our last school years. We had some sort of silent agreement: we would eat lunch together, I would get the girls out of his away and he would beat up anyone that annoyed me (even though I never asked him to).

Back to present day, Axel looks the same, just a bit taller and way, way more muscles on his body. Next to him was a bald guy, the shortest of the group but still tall enough to tower over me, he was also the one that looked much more friendly than the others, with sparkling blue eyes and a distant smile on his lips. Beside him was a tall man with nice chocolate eyes, thick brown hair and beard, muscular, but super lean, a nice tan and a cute ass too, if I must say. Next to him was another blonde guy, his hair lighter than Axel’s, blue eyes that said he was about to reach breaking point, but something in him screamed ‘loyal’. Now, the last guy... where do I begin... He’s tall, the tallest of the group. He’s not muscular as the others, he’s thick, strong. Black hair in a military cut, steel eyes that I’m sure could stare deep into my soul. All the other guys had readable faces, his... his was blank, impassive. There’s something about the way he looked at me, it was chilling, but I liked it.

“Hase! God, we haven’t seen each other for so long.” Axel exclaim as we pass by each on the cereal aisle. “Ugh, I can’t believe you still remember that nickname.” I answered as we hugged each other. “You haven’t changed a bit, huh, the same angel face. Well, you look... buffer now, but the face is the same!” We talked a little bit about life, how we’re now and what we did after we left high school, his answers were a bit vague, but I brushed it off. Wanting to catch up and see me again, he offered “Look, me and my friends here, we own a little nightclub on St Pauli and we are having a special night tomorrow. If you’re still into the same stuff we were in high school, I’m sure you’ll have a blast. C’mon, what do you say? For the old times.” He gave me a look that I knew I couldn’t refuse. “Okay, for the old times.” I could feel those steel eyes staring at me and when I looked at him, he had the faintest smile on his lips. We exchanged contacts, said our goodbyes, and went on our ways.

Something tells me that our little run in wasn’t by chance.

Axel texts me to ask if I’m going and where I am, by that time I’m already in line to get in and he asks me to wait for him. A few minutes passes by and he shows up. “Why are you waiting in line? You know the owner of this place, you have a free pass here, everything you want, you got it.” “Wow, I’m feeling really important right now.” I answer him a in a sarcastic tone he’s used to. “Oh Kleiner Hase, you’re still the same sarcastic little shit, huh?” he laughs as we enter the building. The inside of the club is mesmerising. The decor is very minimalistic but still attention grabbing. We made our through the crowd. Flashing lights, industrial music is playing, sweaty bodies grinding to the beat of the music, couples are making out, friends are drinking and I’m sure I’ve seen an illegal substance here and there. Fuck, I’ve missed being this free so much. Once you start adulting, you don’t have that much free time and you’re constantly tired. It fucking sucks, I know.

It takes us a while to get through everyone, and Axel gushes on about how the club is thriving “Every night is like this, we’re packed and there’re lines of people to get in.” We climb a stair that takes us to a secluded room. Two security guards waits by the door and they let Axel and I in without any trouble. It’s a large room, with the same minimalistic decor from the club, a custom leather couch sits in the middle of the room, accompanied by two matching leather chairs and a slick centre table. On the far back, there are two beverage refrigerators, packed with all sorts of drinks and two doors, one of which I assume it’s the bathroom. The main wall is covered with a one-way mirror, where they can overlook the whole club. When we get inside the room, we’re greeted by his friends. The bald guy is speaking in italian on his phone, the brunette with kind brown eyes reads a book that I can’t figure out what it’s about and the other blonde one and the one I assume it’s their “leader” are quietly talking to each other.

“Herren, look who is here! Hase, this is Fabian. Bookworm over here is Timothy, you can call him Tim. This lovely person is Alex, and finally, but not the least important, this is Walter. He’s the head that hold us together.” Axel introduces us, I quickly shake their hands and Walter stands up to greet me, his imposing figure towering over mine. His handshake is the strongest of all, very powerful, and he holds my hand a bit longer. “It’s very nice to properly meet you, Hase. Junior always told great things about you.” Walter tells me in a quiet but very polite tone. There’s something about him that is making me lose my mind. He has this energy that glues you to him and makes you want more. All he did was shake my hand and call me by my stupid childhood nickname. Pathetic.

The night goes smooth, whatever I wanted to drink, they made sure I got it, Axel, Fabian and I even went downstairs to dance for a while, I haven’t had that much fun in such a long time.

We kept talking for some time before everyone, one by one, left, leaving me alone with Walter. Fabian had to pick up his parents from a late flight on the airport, Alex went home to his wife and kids, Tim wanted to train, and Marcel had the “hottest chick” waiting for him downstairs. I felt a thick tension in the air, almost making it hard to breath. It was probably all in my head though, as I looked at him by my left side on one of the chairs, going through his phone. He caught me staring at him and apologised for being a horrible host. “I’ve got some last-minute business to attend to but it’s all done. Come over here.” He said standing up, waiting for me. When I got up, he immediately placed his left hand on the small of my back, leading us to the one-way mirror. “Look, it’s beautiful isn’t it?” All I could do is nod back, his hand was rubbing small circles on my back. “Are you nervous, my dear? I know I look a certain way, but I promise I won’t do anything to you, anything you don’t want to.” “I’m sorry. You do have this... imposing aura that, you know...” my words failed me. “I should be the one apologising,” he said as he positioned himself by my right side, facing my profile as I faced the one-way mirror. He gently put a loose hair stand behind my ear, leaned closer to the same ear, as if he was going to tell me a secret and continued “but look at it. All these people dancing, having fun. Friends, one night lovers… isn’t it all beautiful, Hase?” “Yes.” I answered as I turned around to look at his eyes. “Very beautiful.”

We stayed like this and stared at each other for a while, and in a moment of courage, I closed the little space we had between us and kissed him. He wasn’t surprised, responding almost immediately to it. He deepened the kiss, holding me by my hair. The kiss was rough, desperate but his lips were surprisingly soft. He broke the kiss when he felt me moaning, biting my bottom lip and positioning himself behind my back.

He trapped me between his thick body and the mirror, his hard erection poking my back. His left hand held me by my throat, squeezing it softly, while his right one slid up my right thigh, lifting the hem of my black dress on its way up. He kissed his way up my neck, stopping by my ear to whisper, “Tell me to stop.” “Please don’t stop.” I whispered back to him, pressing my ass to his hard length. He lets out a little laugh, bites my shoulder and slides one thick finger between my slick folds. “Little Hase is a little hure, isn’t she?” he says as he rubs lazy circles on my clit. I just nod a let out a small yes. He keeps going like this for a few seconds, later holding my face to the glass one more time, telling me to look at everyone while he starts fingering me. His fingering starts slow, increasing to the beat of Nine Inch Nails’ Closer as it starts to get louder. I come right after the song ends. He keeps his body pressed to mine, knowing that if he let me go, I’d probably buckle down.

I started laughing as I came down from my high, the hand on my throat turning my head up to look at him. “What’s so fun, Hase?” “This is the best orgasm I had in ages... fuck.” “You’re not being properly fucked, are you?” “Nope.” “Come here.” He kisses my lips and lets go of my throat, guiding me to one of the doors I saw when I first got in the room.

Behind that door there is an office. The decor is completely different from the club and the watch room. It’s rustic, a lot of dark wood, one of the walls is completely full of books, there’s an old record player and several vinyls, leather couches and chairs that looks like to be a signature piece for him, the light is dimly lit, with a yellowish tone. There’s a big wooden desk, stacks of money on top of it, one unlit cigar near the lamp, some papers and pens too but it’s tidy. I look around and turn to him, saying “I feel like I’m at the Corleone’s house. This looks like some mob shit.” “Come here.” he says and grabs me by my chin, kissing me roughly “Shut up.” he commands as he takes my dress off. I finish taking my bra and panties off, as he takes care of his own clothes.

He’s on me again, sucking one of my nipples and the plays with the other. Gently, he backs us down to his table and I prop myself up on my elbows. His cock is not that long, but it is thicker than usual, he positions himself between my legs and enters my heat in one swift move.

He lifts my right leg up and positions it on his shoulder, turning his head to kiss and bite my calf. His ministrations are hard and all we can hear is the sound of our skins slapping on one another. He tells me to touch myself and increases his speed making my orgasm hit me before I can even feel it coming. He keeps his thrusts hard even while I’m spasming around him. I can feel him twitch inside me and he pulls out immediately, emptying himself on my stomach.

He stares at me with that same mysterious face from the day we first saw each other on the grocery store. I make sure to put on a show as I collect his cum from my stomach and lick it off my fingers. The faint smile is back on his face.

I put my elbows down for a bit and lay down the table. He grabs a couple of bottles of water for the both of us, and I use mine to cool down my skin for a bit. We stay in silence all the time.

I feel something heavy being thrown on my stomach and when I prop myself up once again to look what it was, it’s one of the stacks of money that were on Walter’s table.

“Are you fucking serious? Do I look like some fucking prostitute to you?” I asked him, incredulous.

“I’m not saying you’re a prostitute. I’m offering you power.”

“You fucked me like you wanted and threw money at me. That doesn’t look like a power offering to me! Again, I’m not a fucking prostitute.”

I keep my position, looking up at him, waiting for an answer. He exhales, looks down at me, at my body and shakes his head. One of his hands are at my waist, the other is at his shaft making himself hard again.

“Are you serious?” I ask him.

“Am I?” and in one sharp move he’s back inside me. He moves slow this time, torturing me. The hand on my waist leaves and grabs another stack of money. And another, another, and another. A total of five. Layered out all over my body.

He grabs my throat again, pulls me up and closer to him, all that money spilling over on the floor. He slaps my face twice, softer than I imagined he would and kisses me. We come together.

He holds me close to him, but still leaving a bit of space between us, enough for his other hand find it’s way to my pussy, inserting two thick fingers to play with his own cum inside of me.

“I’ll ask you again, do you want power, little hure?”

---

Translations Hase: Bunny Kleiner Hase: Little Bunny Herren: Gentlemen Hure: Whore

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#walter x reader #walter imagines #wrestling imagines #DB Writes

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destroy-the-cannon · 4 years

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IT’S HERE!

Hey everyone! It’s finally happening. The long awaited Olivia x MC fit is happening. I’ll leave the rest of my thoughts as the bottom as not to bore you, but I’ll put one tiny thing here: there’s actually no Olivia in this chapter. I know, I know! She’s the whole reason you’re here. But I had to do a chapter without her to set up for something you’ll see in a future chapter. I promise, it’ll prove worth your wait. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to it!

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, queer romance, eventual lemon(s).

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, death, illness. Language.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t working towards something. She busted her ass all through highschool, working her way into a scholarship at a decent university. From there, she had concocted a simple, five-step plan:

-Graduate with honors

-Get into a fantastic business school

-Get an amazing, ultra-high paying job

-Pay off debt

-Buy a good house for her parents, and live out the rest of her life comfortably.

But no. Nearly a month after she graduated from college, her dad got diagnosed. As he spent more and more time in the hospital, the bills rolled in. Charge upon charge upon charge, until Paige’s mother had spent up their retirement funds and was looking into getting a second job. So, naturally, Paige stepped up. She got a job working at a tiny bar downtown, and sent her every spare dime to her family, rooming with strangers, because all her friends still lived back home in California.

And then, just as Paige thought her existence couldn’t get any bleaker, it did.

She was sent one final charge, then never any again.

After that, she threw herself into working extra hours at the bar, no longer having the energy to look into jobs anywhere else. For two years, she worked and slept, worked and slept. The only person she ever really talked to was Daniel, a friend who was good for cracking jokes and aimless chatter, but not ideal as emotional support. So, completely on her own, she did her best to heal. She cried till she couldn’t, screamed, cried some more, and did anything she could to try and lessen the complete suffocation that was her grief. Each day, she did whatever she could to wake up feeling a bit lighter, until she felt almost nothing at all. It took two years, but she was finally starting to feel like a person again.

That’s when she met three of the five people who were going to change her life forever.

That day, it was just the men who happened to be in the restaurant. This did make sense, because it was a bachelor party, after all. Not that that was easy to tell, just looking at them. Their clothes ranged from a simple denim-and-white-jeans look to a three piece suit, leather shoes, and a pocket square. Honestly, who still wore pocket squares? Paige shuddered just looking at it. It seemed that she was dealing with a typical group of douchey, overgrown frat boys. It would suck while she was serving them, but usually at least one of them would remember to leave a decent tip. She sighed and strode over, pulling out her pad.

“Hi, what can I-” She broke off for a tiny moment before resuming. “What can I get for you today?” Trying to cover her tracks, she flashed a bright smile.

The reason she had broken off was sitting there, watching her. He wasn’t dressed particularly flashily, in his garnet sweater and khakis, but he had an air of quiet importance about him, something almost noble. His posture was perfect, his hair done with not a strand out of place, a neatly shaved face, a perfectly straight and clean collar. It was the little things about him, things that one didn’t typically find in a crappy downtown bar, that made Paige even warier. He grinned a small, curious grin at her. Before she could respond, the man in the suit began to speak.

“So firstly, I’d like to ask about your wine. I’m assuming there’s a separate list?” Mr. Denim and a (quite cute, actually) guy in a black button down traded amused glances over Sir Suit’s shoulder.

“Sorry, we don’t. We have a good selection of beer an-” He cut her off with a horrified look. She’d never seen such a prim rage before; she had to stop herself from snorting.

“There’s nothing else? I’ve never even heard of some of these labels before! I’d think I’d like to speak to your mana-”

“Tariq.”

The sweatered man, the quiet one, lay a hand on Mr. Suit’s shoulder. His voice was warm, strong, and seemed to contain just a hint of some foreign accent that Paige couldn’t place. He smiled apologetically at her.

“That’s completely fine. We’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey, and four glasses.”

“Great. Will you be having anything to eat with that?” She was making some strangely intense eye contact with The Sweater (she’d have to try and catch his name) when Tariq cut in obliviously. She was really starting to hate this guy.

“Yes, we’ll each take a filet mignon, medium rare, prepared with a bearnaise sauce.”

Paige blinked. The man smiled blandly at her as though this was a perfectly normal request.

“Sir, the closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Now it was Tariq’s turn to blanch in horror. “Burger?”

“Sounds great! We’ll take four.” Mr. Denim cut in, shooting a glare Tariq’s way.

“Right then. I’ll go put your order in, and I’ll be right back with that whiskey.”

She turned and made her way back to the kitchen, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to take over her face. Taking out Tariq, this seemed like a group of pretty decent guys. Usually, she expressed nothing more than a vague sort of interest in customers, a kind of unattached curiosity. But listening to them laughing and yelling, she couldn’t help but to want to pull up a chair and join them.

Sighing, she pulled out their glasses and whiskey. She was putting in their order when she felt eyes on her. Without moving, she peered out of the corner of her eye.

The three friends were talking, except for the quiet one. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, and her spine tingled with awareness of his every move. She arched her form just a bit, trying to be as subtle as she could, and his eyes slipped lower.

Just as she was about to turn, his friend elbowed him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the quiet one smiled and turned his attention back to the group. She didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered back for just a half second, darkening, before he focused back in on the booth’s conversation.

She sighed, and grabbed the whiskey. Oh, well. This was going to be a boring night, but hopefully, in terms of tip, a fruitful one.

* * *

“Excuse me?”

Paige turned to find the sweatered man from before.

“I think we’re about to head out, and I didn’t want to do so without apologizing.”

The bar had emptied out completely, and the two were completely alone. Sweater’s friends were jostling around out front.

“Apologizing?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Well, I know we kept you late, and my friends can be pretty…” He paused. “Demanding.”

“Demanding, huh? Well, it was nothing I can’t handle. I’m used to it by now.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’d still like to apologize. We’re about to head out to a club right near here. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Which club are you going to?”

“Oh, well…” He winced. “We were actually hoping that you could help with that. We’re not from around here.”

“In that case, I know just where you should go.” She scanned him with a critical eye before making a decision. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would particularly enjoy some wild party spot. There’s a great little secret cove right near here you might like.”

He grinned in relief. “That sounds amazing. I’m getting just a bit tired of the traditional bachelor party antics. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! Let me just get out of this uniform, and we can get going.” She turned to go, then stopped short. “Before we go, can I get your name? I’m Paige.”

She turned to offer her hand, expecting a firm shake. To her surprise, he leaned down and actually kissed her knuckles. An honest to god bow-and-kiss. As soon as he’d done it, his eyes widened in embarrassment before shrinking into a wince. “Sorry, that’s an, ah, custom. Where I come from. It’s tradition. I just- just forgot you don’t do it here. I’m Liam.” He was clearly quite mortified, but Paige smiled. She thought it cute, and made her feel oddly regal. There was something so gentle in the gesture, it was almost reverent. Sweet. Grinning, Paige ducked back into the backroom, changing into an emerald-green dress she kept in her bag. She paused for a moment to check her reflection, fluffing out her hair and dress. Confident, she followed Liam into the night air.

As soon as she stepped out, the first thing she heard was: “Daaang! The waitress is hot!”, quickly followed by a more earnest: “That uniform didn’t do you justice.” Before she could respond, Liam stepped forward.

“Hey. Paige is a guest among us, and I doubt she appreciates you commenting on her appearance like that.”

If he didn’t before, he now had her full trust.

She was pretty used to receiving comments like that by now, and it didn’t particularly bother her. At least these guys didn’t seem to have any cruel intent. She got much worse in clubs or on the street. But it was rare to see another man stick up for her like that. Liam barely even knew her, and yet he was ready to call out his friends for her. Instantly, she found she liked him even more.

The guys stuck their head down and muttered apologies. They seemed sincere enough, and clearly eager to earn a fresh start, so Paige let it go.

“So, the waitress is coming with us?” Mr. Denim piped up, looking Paige over.

“Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picked out our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now.” Denim raised his brow. He didn’t seem malicious, per se, just skeptical.

“Hey, Paige very graciously agreed to show us around, so play nice.” Liam turned to her. “Lead the way!”

“I’d love to, but can I get the rest of you guys’ names first? I can’t be referring to you three as ‘you there’ this whole night.”

“I’m Maxwell! Maxwell Beaumont.” Button Down grinned and shook her hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Drake Walker.” Denim stepped forward and also shook her hand, though much less enthusiastically.

“Great. And you’re Tariq, right?” She pointed at the third man, who was smiling at her in a way that did actually make her just a tad uncomfortable. He nodded, his smile growing.

“Awesome. Let’s get going!” She spun around, and they followed her into the night.

* * *

They emerged from a small swath of greenery into a beautiful little cove. The starlight shone on the ocean, and the whole place seemed mysterious and magical. Like anything could happen.

“We should build a bonfire!” Drake looked happier than he’d been all night.

“I am will not be engaging in manual labor.” Tariq looked like he was about to throw up.

“I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’m going to go build a bonfire.” He practically skipped off. Paige could’ve sworn she heard a giggle. The men turned to take in their surroundings.

“This place is awesome! Skinny dippiiiiiing!”

“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Liam turned to Paige as the other two bickered. “Thank you for taking us here, Paige. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.”

“Forget your friends. Do you like it here?”

“I love it.” He was completely sincere.

“This is my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you here.” She was teasing, but he looked her directly in the eye as he responded. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.”

There was a moment there, where he held her gaze. But he looked away and turned his eyes to the sky as he spoke.

“There’s only one problem. How am I supposed to buy you that drink now?” He’d made his tone light as meringue, but there was a tiny crease between his brows.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”

“Seems fair enough to me.” They stood together for a second, until Drake called out.

“Guys! The fire’s ready!”

He beamed as he motioned for them to sit. His proud beam suddenly reminded Paige of a particularly peppy golden retriever. She stifled a giggle as she tucked her feet under her.

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” She had grabbed one of the beers Drake had insisted they get from a convenience store on the way. She sipped from the bottle, trying to appear casual. Maxwell looked up from one of the pop-tarts he had picked up. “What’s up?”

“Well, what’s up with you guys? What’s your deal?”

As soon as she asked the question, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The air grew thick with tension. The boys traded nervous glances, each one visibly uncomfortable. Finally, Liam spoke.

“Guys, it’s fine. She deserves to know.”

“Are you sure?” Drake’s puppy-like grin had vanished, replaced with a look of guarded skepticism.

“Positive.” Liam nodded, and they all turned to her.

“Okay. Paige, there’s something you should know about us.”

“Alright…” It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a remote island with four strange men who were now all staring at her, and why did she think this was a good idea? She tried to tamp down her growing panic.

“As you know, we’re not from here. But where we are from, specifically, is... Cordonia.”

“Okay. And this is a secret why, exactly?”

Liam shifted again. Clearly, there was more.

“Well, we’re not just tourists. I mean, we’re not really, ah, average citizens.”

Hm. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. Liam’s controlled manner, the way Maxwell kept looking over his shoulder, Tariq’s pocket square. But what, exactly, did this all mean? They were either spies, mega rich, or criminals. She waited for them to go on.

“What I mean by that is… well, we may have left some things out in our introduction. Drake really is Drake Walker, but the rest of us are different.”

Maxwell piped up. “I’m Sir Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Of Ramsford.”

“I am Lord Tariq Nadar, of Larada.” He bowed and leered at Paige in a way that caused her stomach to lurch suddenly.

“And I am Prince Liam Cicero Constantine Rhys, prince of Cordonia.”

Prince of Cordonia. The way he kissed her hand. The way the other men seemed so keenly aware of his every command. His cordial behavior. She had been flirting with a prince. An heir, she guessed.

But, if he was an heir, then that could mean-

Oh, God.

“Whose bachelor party is this?”

To her horror, Liam raised his hand tentatively.

“It’s mine.”

Shit! Ew, ew, ew. Her opinion of him dropped right down to the ground. Of course he was fucking engaged. He had been flirting with her, checking her out, and he was engaged! Fuck that, fuck him. She hadn’t even been that into him, so any disappointment she may have felt was swallowed by anger and disgust. She was almost ready to leave when he jumped in, probably sensing her rage.

“I’m not engaged. I mean, I will be, but I don’t actually have a fiancé yet.”

Oh. She lowered herself back onto the log, smoothing her pinched features.

“But wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Why have a bachelor party if you’re not even engaged yet?”

“That’s what you're concerned about? Not the nobility thing? I mean, I would- ow! Drake!” Drake elbowed Maxwell into silence before turning to Paige to explain.

“Liam’s at the age where it’s finally time to pick a future queen. The social season begins the day after tomorrow, and by the end of it, Liam’s gonna have a bride. They try to win the favor of the king and queen, catch Liam’s eye, demonstrate their queenly abilities through a series of competitions, blah blah blah. We’re throwing a bachelor party now because the next one’ll basically just be a press event with a bunch of nobles he barely knows.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. What the hell was she supposed to say? This was a huge bomb to just drop on her casually.

“I hope you don’t think we’re trying to fool you. If that is the case, it’s completely understandable-”

“I believe you.” Oddly enough, she knew they weren’t lying. Somehow, in her bones, she just knew. These were genuine nobles, ones she’d just happened to somehow convince to spend the night out together. Her, the broke, tired waitress. Intellectually, she knew this was an absolutely wild and preposterous thing she was doing, but emotionally, that just wouldn’t register. This felt right, like an evening out with three old friends and one Tariq.

But then again, this was different for them. They weren’t used to spending time with people like her. She was suddenly keenly aware of her own casual behavior, how she’d treated them like any old group of people. They weren’t. She started to gather up her things, fussing with her bag. She should leave them. Why would they want to spend time with someone like her?

“Does this mean I should have been curtseying? Bowing? Using your proper titles?”

“Well, personally, I wouldn’t have minded if you had-”

“Shut up, Tariq.” Maxwell twisted towards her. “This night has turned out to be awesome. You’ve turned out to be pretty awesome. And it doesn’t have to end! Let’s stay out! Just keep thinking of us as regular tourists. Don’t go.”

“I-” She stopped. “Okay. I’m staying.”

Her answer seemed to have surprised her as much as it did them. But she meant it, truly. She was having fun, and as weird as this night had turned out to be, she felt like she had made friends. Real friends, not work ones. This night would become a cool story she told at parties, and these people would become ones she’d wonder about and obsessively google for years to come, she was sure. So she didn’t leave. She sat with them, and it was one of the best nights she’d spent in a very long time.

* * *

“Paige! Wait up!” Paige turned to find Maxwell running after her. Her face split into a surprised grin. “Maxwell! What are you doing here?” He bounded up with a bright look about him. “I’m here for you! The plane leaves in like half an hour, and I wanted to catch you before we left.”

It was the morning after the bachelor party, and Paige was trudging to work. The sidewalk was choked with people rushing from place to place, and Maxwell was struggling to hold his ground.

“And why did you need to catch me, exactly?” Surely, from the beam on his face, he wasn’t just delivering a lost earring? Hope started to tickle at her insides, though what it was for, she had no idea.

“I wanted to make an offer. Obviously, it’s totally cool if you want to say no, and there’s no pressure or anything, but I had to ask.”

“Okay…” What was he doing?

“Come with us.” Her expression must’ve been absolutely shocked, and he hurried on upon seeing it.

“Liam looked really happy last night. Like, uncharacteristically happy and smiley. And you seem really cool, so I got to thinking. You could come with us. You’d be sponsored by House Beaumont, and you’d have a real shot at it! It wouldn’t be easy, since you’re not technically nobility, and House Beaumont is kind of-” he stopped himself. “Um, I mean, it would be hard. Is what I’m saying. But cool! Fun! Are you in?”

“Sorry, what is ‘it’, exactly?”

“Oh, yeah, shoot. Liam’s hand in marriage!”

Liam’s hand. In marriage. The sidewalk seemed to spin. She liked Liam just fine, but marriage? There was no way. She knew it, deep down in her soul. She wasn’t going to marry him, and she never would.

She glanced back over her shoulder, back at the bar. The whole place seemed grubby and hollow. Daniel was wiping away at the counter, a faraway expression on his face. He was dreaming of an out. They had dreamed of that out together, on mornings like this.

Paige pictured elegant palaces, glamorous parties, beautiful people. She imagined dancing the night away, drunk on champagne and laughter. She imagined stolen corridor kisses and secret rendezvous in lavish gardens.

She turned back to Maxwell.

“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes. I’ve got some packing to do.”

Son that was the first chapter! It’s out a bit later than I’d like, but it’s out! Sorry again about the Olivia thing. I promise, she’ll be a key character in chapter two.

I’m really new to publishing my stuff, so if you have any tips or suggestions, please let me know!

#slow burn #enemies to lovers #olivia nevrakis #choices stories you play #the royal holiday #the royal romance #trr au #trr mc #trr #the royal heir #choices fanfiction #choices fandom

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wincestisasincest · 4 years

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2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 5: Fore!

A quick one, inspired by this picture. Beautiful.

As always, credit to @casafrass for inventing the concept of Beatle!reader, that mf idea that sister snatched my heart.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Head canons: None, I think, besides the general concept, this is just me spitballing.

Words: 1465

Pairings: None? I mean, it’s the same as always, depending on how you view it, it can either be a pairing or a friendship.

Warnings: Alcohol, smoking, golf

“There is this recurring, oh, let’s call it a motif, in the book, of the Rolling Stones.”

“Yeah, this is one of the few cases in which popular opinion was actually correct. We really did see the Stones a lot.”

“Now, you were friends?”

“I’d say so, yes. Initially, we had something of a rivalry, I guess you’d call it, but even in those days, we still had a very deep reverence for each other. And, then, at one point, our managers decided that we should meet.”

“An interesting decision, yes?”

“Well, you see, in our industry, competition isn’t unusual, but having enemies really can’t be an option. I think they wanted to actually have us meet face to face so our competitive energy couldn’t turn into blind hatred. Because that only leads to worse things.”

“Hasn’t competition produced some great records?”

“Yes, but it’s not really a prerequisite. All due respect, I really am against the idea that you need some sort of negative presence to properly be a musician, or make beautiful things. People just like focusing on that because it’s interesting, but really, as much songs have been motivated by joy as they have grief. I wish more people, especially aspiring artists, knew that.”

*************

“They’re late.” Brian checked his watch impatiently.

“What’d you expect?” John was lighting his cigarette.

“Their public personas are one thing, but there’s no need to be rude in private.” Brian huffed.

“Maybe, and this is crazy, but hear me out, their on-stage personas evolved from their own personalities.” You retorted as John courteously lit your own cigarette for you.

“(Y/n), I’m really not in the mood for any of your back-talk. If you could kindly keep the sass to yourself, I think it would benefit all of us.” Brian retorted and John snickered.

“You got in trouble.”

“Shut up, John, I’m gonna go check out the bar.” You shifted your eyes up to Brian, expecting some sort of reprimand, though he just looked at you tiredly.

“Just don’t get drunk.” And with that, he paid you no more mind. It’s not nearly as fun when he doesn’t get offended, you thought.

You turned on your heel and wandered off in the opposite direction, leaving John to flit over to Paul, George, and Ringo, who were pretending to know how to swing a club. You laughed to yourself. The benefit of being the only girl in the group is that when they did dumb guy business meeting things, you were not expected to participate. Another day of your life where you would not have to play golf. Thank god.

You swung open the door to the bar and the air conditioner hit you in the face. The bar had an old-timey feel, all the way down to the bar tender cleaning a glass at the counter and a few mysterious strangers lined up on the stools. Might as well join ‘em.

You plopped yourself on the stool the closest to the door and called the bartender over.

“What can I do ya for, sweetheart?”

“Vodka sour.” He nodded and whisked off behind the counter to fetch your order. You took a drag of your cigarette.

“Vodka sour?” A thick British accent floated from one of the stools. You spun around your seat, face to face with none other than Keith Richards, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones, and also one of the people that you were waiting on.

“It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.” You shrugged. If he wanted to play it coy, and act like you two don’t know each other, then he’s on.

He slid out of his seat and moved to the one directly next to you. The both of you were smoking and sizing each other up. Of course, if you wanted to ruin the fun, you could’ve asked why he was late. But you didn’t.

“Vodka sour, Miss.” The bartender dropped your drink on the counter. You briefly turned back to him.

“Thanks, what do I owe you?” As you struggled to pull out your wallet, Keith took some money from the front pocket of his shirt and handed it to the bartender. He returned your startled look with a charming smile.

“On me.”

“Well now, I must be something special if I’m getting you to buy drinks for me.” You doused your cigarette in the ashtray and took a long sip.

“Nah, it’s just, I feel like I know you from somewhere.” He grinned.

“Feeling’s mutual. Perhaps I can buy the next one?”

“Oi, Keith, stop flirtin’ we got some bugs ta’ meet!” Another British accent, though this one a lot more harsh, cut through the room.

Coming in from the alternate entrance was none other than the flamboyant, the one and only, the Romeon to your Juliet, Mick Jagger. Trailing behind him like ducklings was the Stones’ manager, Andrew Loog-Oldham, the bassist, Bill Wyman, the other guitarist, Brian Jones, and the dummer, Charlie Watts.

“While you were sittin’ on your ass, Mick, I already got started!” He leaned back in his seat, revealing you sitting next to him. You flashed your million dollar smiled at the confused crowd.

“It’s a pleasure.” You toasted to them across the room with your vodka sour, before finishing the drink off and leaving it on the counter.

Mick’s eyes slanted at you, and you could’ve sworn that you heard him purr.

“A pleasure indeed.” He stalked across the room towards you, before gently taking your hand in his own and kissing your knuckles. You turned to Keith from the side.

“See? He knows how to greet a lady.” Keith chuckled at your joke.

“I apologize if our Keith has been forward at all, he can’t handle himself around birds, ‘specially those he fancies.” From what you already knew about Mick, you would never really know whether or not he was actually interested in you because he flirted with anything that moved.

“The picture of a gentleman.” You smiled wryly.

“Damnit, Keith. That’s against our image.” Brian teased, his blonde locks bouncing as his head moved. You giggled.

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t keep the others waiting? They’re out there pretending they know how to play golf.” The crowd laughed, yet again. You were on a roll. You got up from your stool, getting your footing on the floor, not forgetting to leave a tip in the jar, as you exited the building flanked by your biggest pop competitor.

The image of their (y/n) coming up the hill with a group of men known for being disrespectful towards everything did set the lads on edge a bit. John was almost angry, Paul was concerned, George was curious, and Ringo was still focusing on his swing. Brian was just glad that these people had showed up on time.

As the manager’s greeting each other with aggressive levels of formality, the group took to intermingling.

“Not gonna lie, I thought you had just found some fans (y/n).” Paul started.

“You’d be correct. We are fans.” Mick put an arm around your shoulder.

“Speak for yourself. I thought you were kidnapped.” John did that thing where he would say a joke, but you knew that there was real anger underneath. You silently prayed that John wouldn’t mess this up.

“Oh, please. If anything I kidnapped them.” You psshed.

“Does anyone actually know why we’re here?” Brian interluded, somewhat impatient with the formalities of the managers.

“I think the football mums over there wanted us to play golf together? Because that’s what business people do?” John shrugged sarcastically, and the group chuckled.

“Is now a bad time to tell them that I don’t think any of us know how to play?” George quipped quietly, though making sure that he was still included in the conversation.

“Speak for yourself, I think my swings improved.” Ringo demonstrated, narrowly missing the back of Brian’s head, though thankfully, Brian didn’t actually notice.

“Yeah, if you’re tryna take someone out.” You smiled at Ringo, knowing full well that someone would die of a golf mishap before the day was over.

“Speakin’ of takin’ out...” Mick looked back down at you flirtatiously. John had finally boiled over.

“Absolutely not. No.” He pulled you over to their side. Everyone giggled like a bunch of pre-teen boys, except for John, surprisingly.

“As a rule, (y/n) is off limits. Just business, lads.” He placed you behind him and Paul like a wall.

“Imma big girl, Johnny. Just like you.” Talk shit, get roasted John. Though everyone was laughing, with several oohs interspersed between them, you could swear that Paul laughed unusually hard.

“Alright you ten,” Brian returned to the group, “shall we get started?”

“I just have one question, Brian,” Paul turned to face him, “how do you play golf?”

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danielslilangel · 4 years

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In the Middle is How I Like It pt. 1

Part One Part Two Part Three

I had been working on solo ship smut pieces but I read a fic the other day involving Jason and Tim being together because of Marinette (I can’t remember who wrote it or where I found it so if I remember I will give credit to the writer!) Anyway, that story sparked an idea for a Jay/Mari/Tim fic. Yes, they’re brothers on paper but i liked how her story kind of ignored that so I’m gonna just do the same XD Not sure how long it’ll end up being but i have a few scenes planned. This is just the opening scene so nothing Mature here... but be warned, there will be Mature/Explicit content in future updates. I’m not a fan of trying to format things on AO3 but eventually it will get put on there. Enjoy?

Marinette giggled at the latest thing the man to her left was saying before taking another pink Princess shot off the bar top and downing it. As soon as she put the empty glass back where it came from, the man on her right captured her attention once more with a compelling story on why he had come to Paris in the first place.

It had been a rough day in the office as she sorted through the newest flood of commissions that had dropped in her inbox after the latest article on MCD was published in an American magazine and she really wasn’t complaining about the amount of work she had to do over the next few months- really, she loved the ideas her clients supplied her with and couldn’t wait to get started on all of them, but a girl could love her job and was still entitled to a few drinks to help take the edge off of all the expectations being placed upon her.

It hadn’t taken long for Marinette to garner a lot of attention after arriving alone at the bar tonight. She had turned every single one of them away, nicely, of course, but there was just something about the latest two men who had approached her that had the black haired beauty allowing them to take a seat on either side of her and buy her a few shots.

It was pretty obvious from the glares they threw towards each other that the men knew one another somehow and their strange dynamic was part of the reason why Marinette was so interested in them. The other part of her intrigue stemmed from something much more basic… they were both fucking hot!

Timothy Drake had introduced himself first after ordering three shots of vodka that he promptly dumped into his thermos of what smelled like exceptionally strong coffee. He wasn’t tall by usual standards, but Marinette was short so she considered everyone tall by default. His dark hair and blue eyes drew her in and she had been unable to resist smiling up at him as he asked “is this seat taken?” He was apparently a CEO of a large American business which fascinated Marinette as he couldn’t have been more than twenty-three. When she said as much he laughed and told her that her skills of deduction were spot on and that he was indeed a young business man her age, but he had help getting the job as it was his father’s company he ran.

“Not that I don’t absolutely deserve the position. I worked hard to convince him to give me a chance. I have quite a few degrees and have helped the company grow exponentially since I took over for Dad.” His voice wasn’t smug or boastful at all as he told her about himself and it was quite refreshing for Mari. She was used to the air of diva that often surrounded those with wealthy parents. After all, she had gone to school with Chloe Bourgeois all those years.

Jason Todd had arrived about ten minutes after Tim and had captured Marinette’s attention as well, though he was almost as opposite from the other man as one could be. Tall and muscular with toxic green eyes that seemed to glow in the bar’s dim lighting and a rebellious white streak running through his black hair- everything about Jason screamed bad boy while everything about Tim screamed unknowingly-attractive nerd. Jason was unapologetically loud as he chucked his motorcycle helmet onto the wooden bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. His eyes surveyed the room in a practiced way that told Marinette he was accustomed to trouble before his gaze landed on her. His broody scowl instantly evaporated and a brilliant smile lit up his face as he plopped down on the stool next to the small Asian girl. She had expected a cheesy pickup line out of someone who looked and acted like him, but Jason surprised her by asking her name and what brought her to the bar tonight. Their conversation flowed with ease and she couldn’t help but laugh at the jokes he told.

As compelling as he was, she couldn’t forget about the man to her left and after enjoying some time getting to know Jason, Marinette leaned backwards to introduce the two men to one another. She quickly realized how unnecessary that was as they greeted one another briskly.

“Jay.”

“Timmy.”

She had been quickly caught up in a game of 'capture the girl's attention' and had been unable to figure out their connection to one another, but Marinette felt a growing suspicion in the back of her mind that seemed to be getting closer to confirmation as the two kept up their own conversations with her.

“Mhmm,” she nodded and agreed with whatever Jason had last said as she pulled out some bills from her handbag and placed them on the bar as payment for her drinks. She took a final sip of her pink lemonade martini and leaned back in the stool before pointing a manicured finger in the direction of both men. “So… you two know each other, right?”

The pair sighed in surround sound before answering “yes” in dulled unison.

“Right. So, have you guys ever…” she trailed off with a smirk on her face, her hands gesturing in a way that left no need to imagine what she was asking them about. “Cause I’m sensing some serious pent up energy here.”

Jason choked on his drink and nearly spit it out while Tim took a moment to chug the rest of his.

“Never,” they answered in unison again and it only made Mari's smile grow more feral as she hopped off the barstool, heels clicking against the tile, and straightened out her mini skirt.

“I guess that means the two of you would be opposed to joining me at my place tonight?” Her voice was nothing but soft and sweet even as her eyes drank in every inch of the men who were both stunned into silence and left blushing as she pulled out a single scrap of paper from her bag and jotted down her address before placing it upon the stool where she had sat. “When the two of you manage to pick your jaws up off of the floor, I hope you also manage to make your way here this evening. Au revoir.” She winked and waved at them before strutting out of the bar and to hail a cab to take her back to her loft.

I cannot believe I just invited both of them back to my place, she thought as the cold Parisian air nipped at her face, sobering her up just enough to process what she had actually just done. Oh God…

She was pulled out of her mental spiraling before it could begin by a large hand reaching around her to open the cab's door as it pulled up alongside the curve. She arched an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, genuinely surprised to see that Jason was to her right again. She was even more surprised to notice that Tim had appeared on her left. Neither men said a word or made eye contact as the three of them slid onto the back seat with Mari in the middle. In fact, the- thankfully- short and silent car ride was only interrupted by Marinette giving directions to the driver before settling back against the warm leather. She hadn’t exactly thought out her plan of asking them both back to her home and she still wasn’t really sure what was going to happen, but she felt the alcohol strengthening her resolve and she was not about to turn an opportunity like this down. Both men took up a lot of space so Marinette was quite smushed between them and could feel their warmth radiating throughout the tiny space and the close proximity made it hard to think about anything else but being between them.

“Merci.” She thanked the driver and passed over the payment for the ride before sliding out of the car after Tim who had reached a hand in to help her with her exit. She made it a few steps towards her door before looking back behind her and noticing the men standing still awkwardly alongside the road.

“You boys coming or will I have to do that alone tonight?”

More pink rose to the cheeks before they lurched forward in sync, following after the her like a pair of puppies.

#miraculust #miracusin #maribat #marinette dupein cheng #marinette x tim drake x jason todd #my writing #miraculous ladybug #Smut

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edgythought · 4 years

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Strangers in the Bar II

Part I | Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,982

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: Nobody wants the second part but I am posting it anyway. Maybe, you'll enjoy. If you do, let me know!

The time flew by like a super-modern spaceship through the deep void of silent space and my stay in LA was coming to an end about just as fast. I still didn't know if I liked the city or not. It was totally different from what I'd seen before, but the aftertaste wasn't that pleasurable as I thought it would be. Maybe I was a prisoner of my own superstitions and prejudices, but I will never know. Moreover, Californian weather is just not my cup of tea, I would prefer something a lot more northern than constant heat and melting asphalt. But I must admit the city has its own unique vibe you cannot casually pass by, it wipes you away with its simultaneous boldness and sneakiness.

It was a challenge for me not to think about the dancing dude I met the first night. Let's be clear, I hadn't fallen in love, but there was definitely a spark between us, even if it was a result of drinking too much. Some nights I even wanted to google him, but my drunk ass never asked for his name. His face looked familiar, like I've seen him before, but I couldn't remember for shit when and where. So, I gave googling up and continued with doing my stuff, which was a lot more important than some random guy I popped into at some bar. I thought it was a drunk adventure and this gave some assurance it will not happen again and I can move on. But I'd be lying if I said what happened didn't bother me in a way I didn't want it to.

I was always very sensitive to vibes and energy people are emitting. That feature brought a lot of pain, but also a lot of understanding, so I tried to develop it as much as I could. And what I saw and sensed that night made me think about it way too much. I saw a lonely person trying to enjoy a simple moment of happiness, but I also saw a sharp mind and a visible ache in his eyes. I totally understand it may sound like an absolute bullshit, but I got the impression we were vibing at the same frequency in some way and it would be stupid of me not to admit I would do it again without thinking. And this fact was bothering me a lot. It was something I couldn't accept, like, how can it possibly be real — to meet a guy and have such a connection with him without even speaking to one another? Bear with me, I told my friends a lot, while sharing this story with them. But could I bear with myself? The answer is not really.

My time in LA is coming to an end, I thought, it would be nice to say goodbye where I started. To finish the adventure properly and leave for good.

It wasn't much later when I saw some familiar spots I observed while smoking near the bar on my first day in LA. Those palm trees were actually fascinating in a pastel background of the twilight sky, warm and so close you may have had a chance to touch it. There was no clouds whatsoever, so I took a pic of tree silhouettes to remember this beautiful view when I'm back home. What if Los Angeles becomes my home? I thought to myself strolling down the road, searching for a sign indicating a spirit-scented place. Soon enough I saw it on the other side of the street and rushed there. It wasn't as crowded as I remember it to be, but I guess that's going to change in an hour or so. I came too early, but I desired to get wasted and nothing was standing in my way so I just followed the waitress into the bar and crawled on the stool with all the grace I managed to find in my body. The bartender asked me what I'd like to have and I ordered "Orgasm" without thinking. Dude tried to make a joke out of it but unfortunately I wasn't impressed since I heard it way too much throughout my whole cocktail-drinking life. It was only funny the first couple of times. Anyway, I came to drink and I got what I wanted in 4 minutes. I spent the time glaring around, but there was nothing unusual for my eye to catch, just a bar, millions of them around the world. The music was on point, though. I thought it was a jukebox, the one you pay to put a song on, but I was wrong. Turned out, it was one of the bartenders who was in charge of music for the night and they took turns to be a DJ. At least, that's what I heard from the bartender, when I made a remark on the music. I was quite impressed, since it's mostly jukeboxes I saw in this kind of places. I found it pretty authentic and also very encouraging for the personnel to try their chances with music. What is more LA than that?

My cocktail was tasty enough for me to distract myself with it for a while. My head was almost empty and I felt I achieved what I was striving for, so I needed to think what to do next. I was alone and a little bored. Maybe I can try to talk to someone? Just for the sake of having a conversation… - I thought - People are probably thinking I am a weirdo, I came alone and I drink alone. Well, this is who I am now and bitches shall accept that. Anyway, the drink was so delicious I finished it without realizing it. I ordered another one and decided it would be nice to smoke.

When I got out I saw the last couple of minutes of the hot Californian twilight and was left to enjoy the early night. Cicadas were singing their oddly rhythmic song and I was inhaling smoke like it was my last cigarette on earth. It was nice to feel the relaxation spread from my chest to my hands and then knees. It felt nice having nothing to worry about for a night and just do whatever your heart tells you to, even if it's totally stupid. The smoke twirled in the air above my head in irregular spirals. I watched it slowly dissolve in thick warm air, traffic noise making the whole experience a little bit ambient. I took out another cigarette and lit it from the previous one, as I had lost my lighter a few days ago and hadn't bought another one yet. I know, I know. My mind was in a weird state, I felt very calm and very nervous at the same time and I couldn't say what exactly caused it. I should probably stop drinking and smoking so much. But not today.

My cigarette was quickly coming to an end as I watched people gathering near the bar entrance for a small chat or a smoke. I went back inside to continue my contemplation with a cocktail in my hand, but I was also determined to get to know someone. Maybe, that cute bartender who served the "dancing juice" will be back? I could talk to him, at least I did last time and it wouldn't be that awkward. But I haven't seen him today yet and I wasn't sure I will, therefore I decided to concentrate on people, cruising back and forth between table area and the bar itself. Everyone seemed very comfortable and friendly, but not a one familiar face in the whole room. Suddenly, I heard a phrase that made me jump on my stool and rush to the dance floor, occupied by two young men in weird shorts.

Get on your dancing shoes!

I cannot explain why the indie tunes from 2000s made me so eager to dance, but they did and I was fine with it. I wiggled my ass to the beat, shook my head and pretended to sing the song to the boys in weird shorts. They somehow agreed to take part in my performance and the three of us had a very nice time dancing and jumping around for the next couple of songs. Soon I was very hot and went back to my place at the bar to take a sip of my drink and order a refill and some water. I went to the bathroom right after I saw the bartender nod at me, letting me know he heard what I told him, as the music was getting louder.

I was surprised to see there was no queue to the bathroom, so I used my chance not to hurry and take my time to fix my makeup and hair. I was even more surprised to see the bar crowded when I finished and I was absolutely flabbergasted to find my place at the bar occupied by some dick! Can you tell I went from 0 to 100 in a couple of seconds? My mood wasn't so great before but now it was pretty much spoiled. I saw the guy talk to the bartender and put my drink aside and my ass went off. Somehow in such situations I have a resting bitch face, which may serve an impression of me being unbothered, but it's not exactly how I felt then. I was furious because there was no other place to sit at the bar and it was just rude of the guy to sit on my stool, cause there was my drink, signifying it was occupied.

I came up to the dude and touched his shoulder to catch his attention. He turned around with half a smirk quickly changing into a look of surprise. I could feel my eyes grow in size when I saw who it was. "Is it fucking real?" - I asked myself, trying to be less shook. What an amazing coincidence, my stool at the bar was occupied by the dancing dude! - Who would have thought, am I right? — he said, fully turning to face me. — Not me, for sure. Get off my stool. — I shoo'd him from the stool but he didn't move a muscle. — Nope. You weren't sitting here when I came in, so it's mine now. — I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. — Don't be a little dick, you've seen my glass standing right here. — I will buy you another one if you get off my dick. And once we are talking about that…. — he chuckled a bit. — You can sit in my lap if you fancy. My eyes widened, I was astonished by his bold move. — Are you flirting with me? — Who knows. So, mardy bum? Are you climbing in my lap or …? — he asked, looking attentively at my face with a wide smirk, pleased with himself.

I threw my hands in the air silently and turned my back on him. I didn't fancy sitting in a random dude's lap, even if the dude was kinda hot and not actually random. Oh God, FUCK! He looked a bit different this time; his beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled back, black shirt and pants so tight I could probably see the outline of his underwear if he wore any. What a dweeb. I guess I'd recognized him instantly if I saw those pants.

Why is this so embarrassing? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to sass this bitch out, but I couldn't come up with anything merely appropriate for the situation, so I decided to ignore his questions and turned to take my glass. At this exact moment a very familiar and a really slow song came on.

I somehow lost my breath and fell into a spiral of memories I had associated with the song playing for a second. I was watching people dividing into pairs on the dance floor and it broke my heart a little. I remembered my ex-sweetheart holding me tight to him while this exact song played quietly in our apartment, right after the final fight we had. I remembered the emptiness I felt then and my eyes became too watery. I am not going to cry at the bar today, I told myself. No one was going to ask me to dance today anyway, I thought, and it stroke me pretty hard. I turned to go out of the bar to have a cigarette when the dancing dude touched my hand. I looked at him, struck by the sensation. He was offering his hand to me.

"Shall we dance a little?"

I had no time to think properly and the whole situation felt a bit like deja vu. He was waiting for me to take his hand, eyes on me, wandering from hair to eyes, to boobs and back. I accepted his almost silent invitation and followed him to the middle of the dance floor.

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms

We were surrounded by different couples and that's one of the reasons I loved LA. It was just beautiful to see people simply dancing together. No one really cared what people might have thought of them, this is how it should be. He held my hands in his and as we're almost the same height I almost touched his long nose with mine. We remained silent while we were swirling in a very little space we had among all the people. His palms were soft and warm and I enjoyed his touch, even though I didn't want to admit it.

Soon enough we got even closer and danced way slower. My lips were almost on his jaw as we were almost hugging each other to a sad song. Him being so close yet so far made me puzzled in some way. I didn't want this to happen and yet here I am, staring at dude's earlobes and gelled strands of wavy hair on the neck. Pretty view, should I say. He smelled exactly the same as I remembered and I found the smell heavenly complex. This sparked an idea to spend as much time in his arms as possible, but I shooed the thought away. It would be inappropriate.

I turned my head a bit to see his face clearly. His eyes were closed, but I could sense something going on in his head. He moved easily and graciously, even with me by his side and I was pleasantly surprised to realize he led me all the time we were dancing. I smiled a little to myself. It felt good to be in his arms and I decided it won't hurt to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. I took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and smiled again. He tilted his head a bit, so it would touch mine. I thought about how we looked like on the dance floor seen by others. We probably look like two sad people dancing to a slow song, I sassed myself and shook my head a bit. Dude asked me if I was okay and I responded "sure". That was it, the whole conversation during the dance.

Can't you see? I don't wanna slow dance In the dark

As the song was reaching its climax, we almost stopped moving at all. My hand that was placed on his shoulder slid down to his waist. He did the same with his hand, still holding mine. I liked him not pushing anything on me and appreciated the effort to be nice. It felt right to be this close to him somehow. I saw him lip-synching a little to the song and felt his warm breath on my cheek. I kept smiling as I watched his private performance. With the final phrase we stopped completely and just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. I didn't want to let him go. He seemed to feel the same. I blushed a bit, because it was getting awkward. Eventually, we split and I followed him to the bar.

He sat on a stool next to mine which appeared to be empty and gestured a bartender to come over. I sipped my cocktail, which I completely forgot about, to be honest. I was watching the dance floor and the dude turned to me and asked "Whatcha gonna drink, mardy bum?"

I did not expected that and took some time to proceed with the question. I looked at him, confused. "Nothing for now. Excuse me" i said and rushed to the bathroom. I didn't want to use it, however, I felt an urgent need to get away from his deep dark eyes inspecting my face. I turned on cold water and splashed some on my neck and chest to calm myself down. I guess I shouldn't have left like this, I thought, maybe I need to go back and try to have a normal conversation? I wanted to talk to someone less than half an hour ago. Oh no, there would be no conversation, darling, you will just stare at his face for an uncomfortably long time until he finds you creepy and leaves, I told myself. Well, this sucks but I have to go back anyway. I'd fancy a smoke, after all it was an experience and I definitely needed some nicotine in my system. I went out of the bathroom to finish my cocktail at the bar and found the dude's stool empty. It made me a bit sad, but I didn't say goodbye either, so it's only fair. I knocked my drink down and headed to the exit.

#alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction #arctic monkeys #the last shadow puppets #miles kane #do i wanna know #los angeles #la #oc #original character #short story #strangers in the bar

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trashbinbackyard · 4 years

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🍁🍂🌻🌿🌳🌲🌠 for vanessa, anze and trias

watch me start writing this and then get distracted, again

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Vanessa pretty much lived her entire life in the temple, so her Place was her room or the garden, the garden was always in bloom, it was located in the middle of the temple but it felt secluded enough. Her room was pretty small before she became the head priestess and it only had a bed and desk in there, she filled the bed with pillows and the desk with all things shiny

His private quarters is pretty much the only place he gets to be completely alone, even his office has clerks coming and going, he has books piled next to his bed for those rare nights he gets to rest. Outside he always feels like stepping into someone else’s place, be it the public or a specific person, to protect and serve right?

She finds herself a nice bridge to camp under or a rooftop to climb, she doesn’t have a place she would consider home or hers. She tends to have all kinds of stuff in her pockets so she’ll just toy with them when alone.

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

She does. It’s her way of greeting her friends, comforting people and saying goodbye. They range from very casual to full of emotion. She reads people well adjust the to her friends preferred methods of affection, but hugs are always part of it. Deanoh know she likes physical touch so whenever he pays a visit he’s always within arm’s reach of her if not always touching her (there’s not that many places they can be together so it’s her quarters (they only became a thing after she became a high priestess) or the garden in the dead of the night) (it’s also amusing to him bc it’s Very Mortal of her to like that)

He’s pretty indifferent, though if you’re gonna hug him always make sure he knows, otherwise he kinda freezes up and it becomes uncomfortable for both of you. He does show affection but its hard to pick up if you’re not Nics, whom he kisses an lot. He’s checking up on his men to see no one is having troubles. As for receiving, pretty much the same he shows, just check up on him, nothing too fancy

Her first reaction to a Real Hug was “Krea what the fuck are you doing”. But she quickly learned to like them. Her way of being affectionate is making sure the other is having a fun time, or pestering them. It’s very tongue in cheek with her. She’s still a little awkward at receiving affection if its not goofing off so yeah

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

She’s happy people find comfort in the strangest things, a mother who lost her child holds onto a rock the kid brought to her, a widow fondly remembering their spouses jokes. How people in the towns near the temple come together to mourn someone they barely knew, the unity of it all, how people take care of other people. And knowing Deanoh is guiding the souls safely

The bond his men have always looking out for each other, sharing joys and sorrows, having sibling-like rivalries all in good nature. The fact that these people will trust their lives to their comrades any day

People just living their lives, going out to bars and clubs, having fun and making the outer rim seem like just another place to live, she’s seen some horrors but it’s comforting that not everybody has or ever will

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

She likes taking longs baths, just melt all that tired away and smell some nice herbs and make her skin and hair super smooth and shiny. Go to bed all clean and nice, pray to deanoh and have a chat with him before dozing off to sleep

He settles u all nice and comfy on a settee in his room and read. Alternatively: go out for drinks with the captains, unwind in good company, play games (he’s the moderator) and just catch up on his people

Hit the clubs to find the best drugs or hit up shyn and go do silly stuff. After a full day of heavy legal work and pretending to have a stick up her ass for Krea’s sake she gotta let loose

🌲 How deeply does your OC feel? Are they typically empathetic or do they have a hard time connecting with others in this way? What are they like when offering support and comfort to someone they care for?

She tends to be a very empathetic person but has to cap it out when working with dying people or people who have lost a loved one. She does genuinely feel for them but not as deeply as she would for someone she knows better. She’s a very warm and calming presence, knows what to say and offers her support

He’s a bit distant. Very straight to the point and bit helpless when he’s supposed to show support, he’ll do the pat on the shoulder “there, there” but you can sense he’s really trying, offers to buy you a drink or go on a walk with you, tends listen more than talk

For a long time she felt no empathy and she became kinda numb to suffering around her, she just didn’t care and later she just didn’t have the energy to. Now she tries, oh my god does she try, because now there are people she genuinely cares for, she’s still very awkward.

🌠 On a scale of 1 - 10 how Baby is your OC? BONUS when asking this question rate the OC yourself as see if the reply matches up!!

like, a solid 5/10, a medium baby

1/10, this man, no baby, he’s had a tough upbringing and now is all around tough guy

on the high 8/10 baby, never grew up, is kinda loud and annoying

#funny thing is vanessa is an introvert #even with socializing as one of her main jobs but she just likes helping people #but please give her the whole evening alone time thanks #anze is neither introvert or extravert thus getting drinks with a bunch of people is ok way for him to relax #tried not to get too religious-y with vanessa but what can i do #she was orphan raised in a tample and became a high priestess #her faith is pretty much a cornerstone for her #plus i like mythology and im having a blast making my own #armed asshats #space shitstorm

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storytimefromthecreed · 4 years

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Have We Met?

(1)

The man had been watching her at the bar for a long time now, and their eyes kept meeting. Chewing on her lip, her eyes flickered to her drink and her friend shifted beside her. “There’s a hot guy checking you out.” Lydia swooned and casually looked over at him again, wagging her fingers, before Eve swat her.

“Shut up. Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“Go say hey.”

“No! We never get to go out. Besides, what would I say?”

Finishing her drink, Lydia slid the glass away and grabbed her purse. “Well, if I were you, I’d figure it out soon.”

Before she could ask what she meant, Lydia looked over her shoulder, smiled, and headed out. Eve felt him standing there, and she bit her bottom lip. She was going to kill Lydia. Turning around, there he was. God, he was more handsome up close. Warm, brown eyes framed by dark lashes flickered to Lydia’s retreating form and back to hers, uncertainty in them. It was...adorable the way his lips formed a pout. “Is your friend ok?” An accent colored his voice, and Eve’s attraction to him only grew. Somewhere warm? Mediterranean?

“Work in the morning, so she’s leaving me to have fun.”

“By yourself?” A brow rose, and she pulled out the seat beside her.

“Only if you want me to be.” The man looked down at his shoes before his eyes flickered up to hers. That look, it was strange, her smirk faltering. So familiar...

“How about we let the Fates decide?” The man looked at the bar, searching the bottles.

“Oh?”

A playful smirk on his full lips, he pointed to her glass. “If I guess what you’re drinking, can I buy you another glass?”

“l’ll feel bad if you bought me a drink, lucky for me, you’re never gonna guess.”

“Humor me?” Sensing the challenge, Eve nodded.

“May I?” The man extended his hand, and she slipped her glass to him. The spark of electricity that bolted through her at the contact of his lingering fingers against her skin made her gasp.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Sniffing the glass, giving it a twirl, then taking a drop, he smiled. A beaming, bright, adorable smile.

“Ah, a fan of Greek wine?”

“How did you...?” He was already turning to the bartender and asking for another. Eve leaned back, impressed. “My friends make fun of me, but I tried it once and haven’t found anything good since.”

“Hm,” the man rose a glass and they toasted. “Where did you try it?” She opened her mouth, then closed it. The memory was foggy. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry. Just fascinated with your tastes.”

“You’re from Greece, aren’t you?” Eve smirked, “Guess I have a type.”

The man laughed, giving her a knowing look that she couldn’t comprehend.

(A very long time ago...)

Of all the adventures he’d gone on, falling in love was his favorite. For a long time, love had alluded him. Of course, he’d loved many times, but finding that person he wanted to have a home with never appeared to him. Alexios began to believe it was not in his cards until he’d run into her.

Technically, she ran into him. Couldn’t blame her. Alexios was admiring the mountain tops when the thump at his shoulder made him yell. “Malaka!”

An arrow pointed at his face, Alexios dove to the side and drew his weapons for the fight. The unmistakable whizzing made him pull his sword to his side to block, but he found the arrows never found their target. Or, at least, he wasn’t the target.

Two men fell before she twisted, pulling her sword from her side and stabbed the man attempting to sneak up on her. The men fell with thuds, and she span, grabbing her sword and spearing it through another. Alexios watched from the sidelines, unsure whose side he should be taking. A man grabbed her from behind, and Alexios leapt into the fray.

Throwing her head back, she caught him with a sickening crack and twisted from his grasp just as Alexios drove him through. “Are you ok?”

“Would be had you not ruined my hunt.” Was her response, and Alexios rolled his eyes. Another mercenary? Gods! Before he could respond, swords entered the battle and Alexios braced himself. He leapt into this, now he had to finish it. “Can you use that sword?” She cut a man’s throat before ducking through another’s defense. This man Alexios cut down. Her brow rose and briefly, ever so briefly, she looked impressed. Then the battle raged, and they were preoccupied.

Cleaning her blades and placing them skillfully back across her back, at her waist, and in her boots; Alexios watched her. “You’re a skilled fighter.”

“Not so bad yourself, when you’re not falling into my ambush.” Unlike before, her tone was playful. “What are you doing out here anyway? It’s dangerous.” Alexios’s jaw dropped. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you to town safely.” Her wink stopped his heart as she brushed past him.

“Hey! That’s my job.” Alexios found himself stammering.

“Not anymore.” She looked him and down, not like how other people did. There was nothing sexual in her gaze. It was like she was evaluating him. Alexios gulped. “Aren’t you going to ask your savior’s name?”

A smile grew despite himself, and he found himself greatly enjoying her company. “What’s your name?”

“Genevieve.” She declared proudly. “Yourself?”

“Alexios.” A cry sounded and he rolled his eyes upward. “And that’s Ikaros.” The challenging expression softened to wonderment as the bird flew to his arm and rose its head for scratches. In an instant, she reached a hand and Alexios sucked in his breath. “He normally doesn’t...” But the bird puffed and rubbed his face around her hand. Never mind then. This woman had stolen his title, his heart, and now his bird.

Many years would pass, and Alexios would still feel for her what he felt that day. Alexios rolled over and his fingers reached out. Brushing against her back, he hummed and pulled himself closer. Her giggling filled the room, and he buried his face into her back. Smelling lilacs and rosewater.

All these mornings, and he still did the same thing. Even though she teased him for holding onto her stomach as he slept, she would hold his hands there before cradling them to her chest, kissing them until he awoke. “A good rest, I take it?” Alexios nodded without answer, already trying to go back to sleep. “Considering how late we went to bed last night.” Motionless. Pouting, she stopped kissing to look over her shoulder to check if he was sleeping. Before she could fully turn over, Alexios pulled her so that her back hit the bed and he was hovering over her with a toothy grin. Sleep weighed on his eyes, his hair was messily undone, and his smile was playful while his eyes twinkled.

“Getting slow, misthios?” He loved calling her that.

Truth be told, she didn’t mind this change in position. “Am not!”

“Should’ve let me sleep in.” Rolling off her, Alexios kissed her hands and turned to ready himself for the day before she tugged at him and latched herself to his back. “Yes?” Alexios raised his arms, taking her hands in his and rocking side to side until he spun under her arm and faced her. Swaying side to side to music only they heard, Alexios just enjoyed her morning look. When her hair was wild and her eyes sleepy.

Side stepping, Alexios trampled her foot and she winced. Before he could apologize, she was laughing. Already used to it from dances done before. For a skilled fighter, Alexios couldn’t dance. Finally spinning her so she was pressed against him, Alexios rested his chin on her shoulder. The bristles tickling her, she hummed, “Should have let you sleep in.”

Unwinding her, Alexios bore down with eyes filled with promise. “Just have to finish what I’ve started. Two weeks, four at most, and then everything will be finished.”

“And what will you do then? Milk the goats?” She’d been teasing, but her voice hitched. What were two warriors to do after the fight?

Alexios nodded his head. The thought of owning a piece of land had crossed his mind, but he honestly didn’t know. “As long as you’re there, I don’t care what we’re doing.”

The excitement she shone was hard to conceal, and he found himself admiring how adorable she was. “Really?”

“I give you my word.” Alexios vowed and kissed her once more.

“Two weeks,” she repeated, more to herself that him. “Four at the most.”

“Then my attention will be all yours.” Alexios smirked, and eyed the bed. As if reading his thoughts, she fell backwards, bringing him along with her until the sounds of laughing and giggling turned into kissing and loving.

How long it had been, Alexios hadn’t a clue. All he was aware of was that Hades’s constant meddling had become an annoyance. And now the god owed him. “Hades, you gave your word!” Alexios growled, his fingers already twitching for his blade. There was no doubt killing the god was impossible, but the thought of hurting him pleased Alexios.

“That I did, but I’m going to be honest with you. You annoy me. So, yes, I will complete you favor. I’ll ensure no harm come to you precious woman and you have a long life together.” Alexios couldn’t relax. He could feel the other shoe about to drop. “But I can’t let your interference go unanswered, so I have a special surprise for you .”

“Leave her out of this!”

“It was you who brought her into this, so you’ve only yourself to blame.” Hades was enjoying himself now. “Long will her life be, and with yours, true, but good luck keeping it that way.”

“Hades!” Alexios charged, but was thrown backwards.

Hades’s laugh echoed around him. “As you’ll learn with immortality, it’ll drive some people mad.”

The dream echoed in his memory, and the Staff beside him told him it was real. He was home. It was done.

Eve!

Rolling up to his knees, Alexios found himself a mile from the nearest town, and from there found he was not even on the same landmass he’d left.

How the hell did he end up back on Kephallonia?!

It took time, more than he’d wanted to think about. The tears would run down his face and fire would burn into a dull ache in his belly when he did. Finally home, he felt energy return to his tired limbs. The town had grown, and there were very few people he’d remembered. Arriving at home, their home, Alexios froze. The grass was replaced with a vegetable garden, a field of wheat shone like gold under the sun, and a few children ran in the yard.

Knees buckling, Alexios leaned against the fence and watched them play. A couple of goats strode lazily by. Finally, one of the boys fixed him with an annoyed look before calling out, “Mater! There’s a vistor!”

“Aryan, what have I told you about-” The door opened and a woman strode out. She placed a basket on her hip and continued to lecture the boy until those eyes landed on him and the basket dropped, spilling freshly washed clothes on the ground.

“Mater!” The boy said, frightened now, and Alexios fell against the post for support. He’d knew he’d been gone long, but how long? Her hair was longer now and fell to her shoulder, she’d cut it, and her eyes were older, more mature. She looked the same, and yet...

“Aryan?” Another voice sounded, and a second woman’s head popped out of the door. Eve was still staring at him. The woman looked between them and pushed the boy behind her. The two other kids had forgotten their game and were retreating now. “Hello, stranger. Can we help you?”

Alexios worked the words out of his mouth like he was chewing them. “I-I didn’t mean to interupt, I just...”

But she was walking towards him, cutting his words off. “Alexios?” Staring at him like a ghost stood before him. Whispering the words as to not spook the vision.

“This is Alexios?” The woman behind her said, but he couldn’t hear her.

“Eve?” She’d stopped a few feet away, but at the sound of his quivering voice, she ran the rest of the distance. Alexios took her into his arms, crying openly. They both were. He repeated her name like a prayer as the sound of her, her touch, her smell, brought back memories and he was home.

“You’re alive!” She sobbed into his chest, alternating between hitting his chest and sobbing. He was supporting her whole weight now and she pulled back to stare at him. There was love still in those eyes. “You’re alive! After all these years, you’re alive!”

That’s how Alexios found out he’d been gone for four years.

#I've always wanted to do a soulmate AU!!#this just came to me in a dream #jk #i was made and just began writing and then this happened #Have We Met #Have We Met AU #buckle up! this is a long one!

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cosmichoneyedblossoms · 5 years

Text

For Your Use Only

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Angst | Smut

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: This is just plain smut with cursing sooooo read at your own risk.

“Y/N!” The shout of your name through the kitchen caused your head to snap in the direction of the mousy voice. Annaleise’s face looked drained of any energy as she plopped down into the corner of the entrance, “Mr. Mura requested that you bring him and his party another round of drinks.”

“Me…? Why me? He seemed to be just fine with you—” She shot you a glare with her pretty crystal eyes, her expression was too harsh for her sweet face.

“Me too until he said that I looked like a horse…” You could feel your face drop, feel your eyebrows knitting together as you tilted your head.

“He really said that…?” With a nod of her head, you were quick to fill a serving tray with glasses of water and head out onto the club floor. Your heels clicked against the tile as you fixed your expression to match one with a smile as you approached the table shrouded in red velvet.

“There she is, my sweet little Y/N.” Mr. Mura clapped with enthusiasm as you entered their space. His skin was dripping in glinting glitter and Gucci, but it wasn’t enough to cover up how drunk he was.

“A round of drinks for your table.” You sat the water down and Mura sighed.

“I thought I told that girl to have you bring us more alcohol.” Even with his protest, he picked up the glass of water and downed it.

“By this time you’re usually trying to sober up to head home to your wife, aren’t you?” His party of men broke into laughter at your remark while he set his glass down and scooted over to make a spot on the leather couch.

“Usually, but she’s out of town for the weekend and I’m here to try out Mr. Im’s best girl.” He patted the cushion as if giving you an invitation to sit a spell and forget about the fact you were working.

“I’m his best waitress, I can go get his best escort if you want someone to occupy your time while you’re here.” You offered your best customer service voice as you slipped the tray under your arm; this wasn’t new with Mura, he always hit on you and asked you for your time, but you weren't here to sell yourself, you had other plans that didn’t include selling your time and or your body.

“I rather find out why you’re his best girl. Would you let me buy your time so I can see why you’re the best?” You could feel his sticky hand graze the edge of your skirt as he reached for your free hand. You pushed away his advances and he gripped at your hand to pull you closer to him, “Are you turning me down?”

“I’m not an escort or a prostitute, if you want someone to sit here with you and make you feel better, let me go get you an escort.” You yanked your hand from his grip and turned to leave when you heard him whisper something under his breath.

“She’s just playing hard to get, Jaebum will let me have her if I just pay the right amount of money for his whore.” The whispering of a slur that you’ve heard many times had your anger bubbling, heating the blood that ran through your veins, it usually never made you this heated, but for some reason hearing yourself being called “Jaebum’s whore” irritated you to no end.

“Excuse me?” You asked, turning back around to face him. His lips wore a smug smile because he was getting you right where he wanted you, he wanted you to stay to prove him wrong, but then again, you knew that—Mura had just never been the guy to get this ballsy, is it because he has his buddies with him?

“Oh? Did you hear what I said?” He chuckled, leaning back into the cushion to spread his legs out, giving you the opening you needed.

“I did.” You hissed, sitting your serving tray down against the side of the couch.

“Well, am I wrong? I’m pretty sure if I paid him enough money, he would let me have you.” He eyed your figure as you pasted the fakest smile you could conjure onto your lips while you hiked your skirt up and slid into his lap.

“You want to see why I’m his best?” Mura slid his hands up your bare thighs, treading dangerous territory, seeing as you were Jaebum’s.

“I would love to…” He hummed watching your hand coming up to brush over his cheek to thread your fingers through his hair and yanked his head back, “Oh, you like it rough?” He chuckled while removing a hand from your thigh to land a hard smack to your ass, finally breaking the last strand of patience you had. You hummed rearing back your arm and landed an open-handed smack to his cheek.

“Listen here asshole…” You growled, yanking his head back harder over the back of the couch, the room was now quiet enough to hear a pin drop, “I’m no one’s property. I’m my own property and if you want a whore to bury your measly cheating cock in, go two blocks down to the corner.” You let go of his hair and got up out of his lap, quickly attempting to make your exit, but he caught your arm. His fingers dug too deeply as he yanked you back that you winced under his grip before feeling a sharp sting spreading through your cheek.

“Hey!” The yell of a bodyguard had him backing up from you as you held your cheek, trying to keep the tears of pain hidden from him. While one of the bodyguards took care of Mura, another one came to remove you from the situation, knowing exactly where he was taking you to.

The studio flat above the club was where Jaebum spent most of his time, why go home when you could just live above your job?

“Sit.” He hummed, walking away from you to wander back behind the half wall to the kitchen. You plopped down into the unkempt bed, catching old notes of his cologne escaping the duvet as it flattened under your weight—god did he smell heavenly, “Here.” You looked up to see him holding out a cold pack, “For your cheek.” Taking it from his hand, you placed it onto your cheek, the immediate cold making you hiss, “That’s what you get.”

“What do you mean?” You watched him walk over to his desk near the window, his dark jeans hugging him so well.

“You smacked the man, Y/N. Not to mention a man who spends a quarter of a million here every few months just to get his rocks off with any woman he desires… and you slapped him.” You couldn’t tell if he was particularly angry or shocked, but you weren’t about to guess which one he was.

“He called me a whore, your whore to be exact and that you would let him use me if he paid enough money to have me… and that made me mad because I’m no one’s whore… I’m me, no one else’s.” His curly hair bounced with the cocking of his head like you being called his was an insult to you.

“Is he wrong though?” He turned around to face you, his gaze heavy through the hair hanging in front of his face. Your eyes stayed fixed to him as he walked back toward you, your heart began pounding in your chest and it only got louder the closer he got, “Tell me, is he wrong? Are you not mine?”

“Jaebum—”

“Am I not the only one that gets to use you?” Long slender fingers dropped down to the hem of your skirt, washing away the feeling of Mura’s clammy fingers and replacing them with ones that felt so hot that they would melt you in seconds, “Are you not my best girl?” He dropped down to his knees in front of you, sliding his palms down the shape of your skin to run them back up your inner thighs, spreading them with ease; you didn’t put up a fight, Jaebum didn’t have to do much to seduce you, his eyes were enough to have you in a trance.

“I can’t answer that with you so—”

“So what? So close your pussy? I’ve been here many times before…” Smooth lips pressed hungry kisses into the delicate skin inches away from your aching core. Pushing your skirt up, you laid back as he pulled you closer to him and he continued to caress your thighs, letting his lips dance over your skin, his warm wet muscle traced your shape through your thin lace panties, soaking the fabric more than you had already done, “You are mine.” He pushed your panties to the side and dipped his tongue into your sopping wet core; between the swirling of his tongue around your clit and his scruff tickling your slick folds, you were already close to reaching your limit.

“Jae…” He hummed into your wetness causing you to arch your back off the bed from the vibrations through your core. Reaching down, you gripped his thick curly black hair in your hands while he lapped up your naughty juices, taking his time to explore all your folds and creases. Your pussy was his kryptonite, his one weakness, he could spend hours between your thighs, lose himself in you; he knew how you liked it, where you wanted to be touched, how you wanted to be teased, and how you wanted to cum. He loved watching you turn into a moaning mess with every flick of his tongue over your clit, with every bite to your lips, every kiss to your sensitive skin, he loved pleasuring you; you tugged his hair roughly as he slipped two fingers into your throbbing hole, them immediately finding the spot you loved the most. Clamping your thighs around his head, he was relentless—fingers dug into your g-spot, teeth gently nipped at your clit while his lips wrapped around the swollen nub, sucking until your moans flowed into breathless gasps, bringing your high to the edge, “I’m—” He pulled away from you and pulled his fingers from your core, you whined at the denial of your climax.

“C’mon, you didn’t think I would let you cum that easily, did you?” Standing from his knees, he rid your body of your panties and then unbuckled the black belt and ripped it from his waist to discard it onto the floor, “Knees, Y/N.” His raspy whisper was enough to have you in front of him, watching his fingers tug the maroon shirt from the waistband of his jeans and unbutton the last thing keeping his body from yours. Your mouth salivated witnessing the bare skin under his jeans, no boxers to be found; you reached up, brushing his hands out of the way, and tugged his jeans down. His cock sprung out of its holdings, it stood at attention in front of your lips, and you could feel your dignity, any sliver you had of it left, slipping away from you.

“How do you want it?” Jaebum followed your eyes, watching them swirl with the darkest strings of lust as you flattened your tongue over your lips, strings of drool dripped from the tip of your eager muscle as it met the bulging vein under his length. Your plush lips wrapped around his reddened tip, making him hiss at the unexpected light grazing of your teeth as you swallowed him whole; he swept stray strands of hair from your face and then slipped his hands to the back of your head, getting lost in the curling of your tongue around him.

“Take it deeper…” He growled, gripped your hair in his hands before thrusting the rest of his length down your throat; your dark eyes looked up at him, tears already building up in your eyes, but you weren’t trying to pull away if anything you were gripping at his thighs to pull him closer. He could feel the tip of your tongue slightly moving side against his balls, the feeling sent shivers up his spine as he slowly pulled out of your mouth; drool ran down your chin, he took in your fucked out expression, the sight of it being his ultimate turn on, “Bend over the bed.” In a blink of an eye, you were bent over his bed, legs spread and ass pushed out, putting everything that he owned on display, “Tell me what you want.” You groaned into the duvet shaking your ass a bit.

“I want you to fuck me…” Your muffled request didn’t reach him, the sharp burn of his hand landing a heavy smack to your bare asscheeks had you almost jumping off the bed and the sting had you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” Smoldering fingers slid over the burning handprint while you tried to form a coherent sentence, but when you didn’t reply fast enough, he landed another smack to your ass. Jaebum didn’t even have to fuck you to get you off, him spanking you was bringing your climax so close that you could feel it in your toes, “Better talk, otherwise I won’t even let you cum.”

“Please fuck me…” You breathed, your body becoming numb to every feeling besides the one screaming to cum.

“You want me to fuck you? Where?” He slid two fingers up your mess of a pussy, collecting your juices to spread them over your tight asshole, “Here? Or…” He dipped his fingers back down, circling your pulsing core.

“My pussy please…” Leaning back into him, he viewed your needy hole dripping your lust down your thighs, the need to tease you more piqued his interest.

“After you tell me whose pussy this is. Only after that will I—”

“Yours! This whore of a pussy is yours! No one else’s, your own private cock sleeve—Please, Jaebum…” Your salacious words made his lips pull up into a smirk while he nudged your aching clit with the head of his cock.

“How does my whore want it? Gentle?” His length slid over your sensitive nub, dragging it over his shaft as he offered languid rolls of his hips between your thighs, “Hard?” Sliding it back up your slick slit, he lined himself up with your hungry hole, you leaned back into him, slowly letting your pussy engulf him.

“Hard… fuck me until I can’t stand…” A chuckle fell from his lips while he gripped your hips.

“That’s my girl.” He slowly pulled his cock out, listening to how sloppy wet you were until only the tip was being cradled by your warmth, your walls coiled around his sensitive head, making it hard to tease you like he wanted, but you felt so good that he couldn’t hold back any longer. Ramming his length into you, you tossed your head back in pure bliss as his cock slammed into your aching nerves, making you cum immediately, “Ah, fuck yes, baby. Cum all over my cock…” He growled, relentlessly pounding into your squelching pussy, not giving you any time to come down from your high. With every thrust, your body trembled under his touch, every cell in your body was screaming to be tainted by him, to be destroyed by him.

“Fuck…” You whined starting to pull away from him, the beginning of another climax sent electricity through your limbs, but Jaebum wasn’t having it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He gripped your shoulder and yanked you back to him while spanking your ass again; his cock started prodding a new spot, this one more sensitive than the last and he could tell that he just found a new weak spot for you by the way you tightened up around him, “Such an obedient little pussy tonight, should I give her a break?” You violently shook your head, your voice was completely useless, the only thing on your mind was getting to cum again. Your wordless reply wasn’t good enough for him, he needed to hear your voice, “C’mon, use your big girl voice.” He slowed his pace, his vicious thrusts faded to a lazy roll of his hips, teasing your newly found spot.

“D-don’t st-top… p-please…” You slurred, your hips already trying to regain his momentum; he watched as you fucked yourself, thinking the way you were so desperate to reach your high was sexy but in a way also cute.

“Why do you make me want to break you?” He hummed while matching his thrusts with the movement of your hips, granting your wish, but the more you clamped down on his cock, the closer he was getting to reaching his own climax. Reaching around you, he found your clit and rubbed tight quick circles around it, your moans turned into screams of pleasure between his pointed strokes and his teasing of your clit. In moments, your climax was at a high, your juices spilled down your thighs making a wet spot on the floor under you; Jaebum pulled out of you and pumped his length, “On your knees, now.” With tingles still coursing through your body, you appeared in front of him, mouth open and ready to receive him. He let his head drop with a groan of release as he coated your face in his cum; with heavy breaths watched you open your lust fucked eyes, their gaze fixed to him while you licked your lips, tasting his sticky gift, “You’re such a good whore, my good whore.”

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