#this is what i was wearing when the dj checked me out

[colourofthekites]

When in Türkiye, do as the Turkish do, i.e. open shirt and be hot

[roosterforme]

Don't You Want Me, Baby | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was like a fairytale, the way you stole Bradley's heart with your gorgeous face, retro denim jacket, and karaoke skills. But when you disappear into the night, leaving only one small trinket behind, he's left wondering if he didn't just dream you up. 

Warnings: Fluff, swearing and karaoke

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley's favorite thing about '80s throwback nights at the Hard Deck was seeing how his friends dressed for it. Nat usually went with neon spandex. Bob had a vintage Nintendo tee shirt. Jake found a windbreaker and matching pants at a thrift store. Even Penny got in on things by wearing a hideous blazer with enormous shoulder pads. 

But Bradley just wore what he always did: one of his dad's tropical print shirts from circa 1983, his snug Levi's, and his slick mustache. 

When he arrived at the Hard Deck, he realized that his least favorite part of this kind of night was the fact that he was always the odd man out now. He'd been single for such a long time, and it didn't usually bother him. But the way Javy had his arm around Nat, and the way Bob's girlfriend was making him blush... well, Bradley was starting to feel like he was missing out. 

Nat handed him a beer as soon as he strolled up to the bar. "I can't decide if it's funny or sad that you don't even have to try," she told him, eyeing him up and down. 

"Says the woman wearing a neon pink jumpsuit? What even is that thing?" he asked, gesturing to her outfit. Frankly, it was scary, but Javy seemed to like it as he kissed Nat and whispered in her ear before he walked away, turning to look at her several times. 

She rolled her eyes and told him, "It's '80s workout attire! I'm going to sing the song Physical for karaoke, and I thought it would be fun to match the theme. You, on the other hand, wore the same thing the other day when we went out for pizza. You live in the '80s my friend."

"Whatever," Bradley grunted, sipping his beer. 

"Rooster, did you sign up for a song yet?" Fanboy asked him, jerking his thumb to the karaoke setup in the corner. 

Just as he was about to reply, Nat smirked at him. "How about I pick a song for you?"

Bradley just shrugged. "Sure." He liked singing. He was pretty good at it. And with tonight's theme, he'd know all the lyrics even without the video prompt. But he didn't like the smug look on his friend's face as she strolled away in her hideous pink outfit.  

He sipped his beer. There were a lot of people here tonight that he'd never seen before. It was usually the same Naval officer crowd every weekend, so this was interesting. And there were a lot of cute girls with their hair all teased and hair sprayed wearing things that made Bradley smile. 

Then his eyes caught on a denim jacket and a mini skirt on the cutest girl he had seen in a very long time. "Oh," Bradley gasped, finishing the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle down on the counter. You turned to laugh at your friend who was behind you, but your eyes caught on Bradley's, and he started stumbling through the crowd in your direction.

Then the DJ in charge of karaoke night called up the first singer, and the crowd closed in on the stage. "Shit," Bradley muttered. He lost sight of you amongst the too bright neon strobe lights. The song Sunglasses at Night started blaring, and Bradley couldn't find his friends either. The more he tried to shove through the crowd, the more dirty looks he got. 

Two more singers performed terrible renditions of songs that Bradley used to like until he heard them here. He figured you must have left, because he couldn't see you anywhere. With a sigh, he leaned against the back wall. And then Nat was there, pressing another beer into his hand. 

"Why do you look so pissy?" she asked over the music. 

He just shrugged and rolled his eyes at himself. "It's so dumb. But I saw the cutest girl, and then she vanished...."

There you were, not far from the DJ booth. You were dancing along to someone butchering Billie Jean. Bradley could barely see you through the crowd as he smacked Nat's arm. "It's her. Denim jacket. Little skirt. Fucking gorgeous face."

"Go talk to her," Nat told him with a grin that made him a bit nervous. 

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he asked, looking for the best way to get over to you. The way you were dancing and laughing had Bradley smiling as he squeezed past Bob. 

When you spun in a slow circle with your friends, you froze, eyes meeting Bradley's again. This time you bit your lip and waved to him. 

Bradley laughed and mouthed, "I'm coming." He watched as you pressed your lips together and ducked your face down.

"Hurry up!" you called when the song ended. 

Bradley was about to start throwing elbows to get as close to you as possible. Then he heard his name.

"Rooster is up next! Where's Rooster?" called the DJ. 

Bradley let his head tip back as he groaned. He waved to the DJ and then winked at you. "Sorry," he mouthed as he smiled at you. 

You smiled and shrugged and that's when the DJ announced, "Rooster is singing that iconic song from Dirty Dancing, I've Had The Time of My Life."

He turned to glare at Nat where she stood against the back wall. "You picked a duet, you jerk! I can't sing that alone!"

But his attention snapped away from Nat when he felt your hand on his arm. You had managed to close the distance to him, and Bradley met your eyes as you let your fingers glide down his arm until they met his hand. 

"I'll sing with you, Rooster."

Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you led him up to the stage as the bar was filled with applause. Bradley took the microphone from the DJ. You and he were going to have to share it, and he didn't mind that one bit. 

"Ready?" Bradley asked you, keeping his flingers linked with yours. 

"Let's do it." 

Bradley nodded, signaling they were ready to sing, and when the music started, you smiled up at him. He missed the first few words as his heart pounded, scrambling to pick up the lyrics as you giggled. 

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before. Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

Then when it was your turn, Bradley was hypnotized by your voice. He could come up with about a hundred more duets he was dying to sing with you. Either here at the bar, or maybe back at his place. Maybe you'd let him have your number. 

He missed his next line again, completely distracted by you biting your lip and holding the microphone for him. "Shit," he said with a laugh, finally getting back on track again. But you seemed to know you were the reason he was distracted, and he could tell he was blushing. 

And when it was time to sing together, your voice blended perfectly with his. 

So we take each other's hand, 'cause we seem to understand the urgency.

And then you started to dance with him a little bit, just a sway of your hips, but Bradley moved along with you. It was perfect, the way you shared the microphone with him. The way your smile made the song even better. The way you laughed at the end when Bradley's face was close to yours and the room erupted in loud applause. 

"Thanks for bailing me out," he told you as he handed over the microphone. 

"You're welcome, Rooster," you told him with a smile that made him want to taste your lips. Then you were slipping your hand free from his as your friends called you over. You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley turned back to the DJ while another singer took the stage. 

"I need you to let me sing again," Bradley told him. 

"One song per person, sorry."

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled fifty bucks out of his wallet. "One more song? Right after this one?" 

And then, just like that, Bradley was signed up. When he turned your way, you were already looking at him, challenging him to make a move. 

"Excuse me," he said, encroaching on your friend group and holding out his hand for you to take. "But, my friend accidentally signed me up for another duet. Think you can help me out again?"

You slipped your hand into his and smirked. "Really? It looked like you signed yourself up this time."

He shook his head and pulled you closer to him. "Nah. Just a trick of the lighting, I think. It was definitely my friend."

Your laughter had him reaching his free hand gently around your waist, tucking it inside your denim jacket.

"That's a cute mustache," you told him, reaching up to touch his lip. "Did you grow it just for tonight?"

Bradley shook his head. "It's a permanent fixture."

"Oh, even better."

Bradley was thinking about it. He was going to do it. He was inching closer, ready to kiss you, when the DJ called his name again. "Rooster, you're up for an encore!"

The room erupted in more cheers as Bradley led you up to the stage, hand still at your waist. 

"Which song is it?" you asked over the applause, your lips next to his ear.

His smile grew as he promised, "You'll know it."

Then Don't You Want Me started playing, and you laughed as Bradley danced around on the stage, singing just to you until the chorus when you joined him. Your perfect, smiling lips were so close to his as you both sang "Don't you want me, baby! Don't you want me, ohhh!" together. 

And then he let you have the microphone for your part, and your voice sounded even better than the original song. He let his voice blend with yours again and again, but then too soon, the song was ending. He briefly wondered if he could get away with bribing the DJ for just one more song with you. 

He had the microphone in his hand, about to check if he had more cash in his wallet, when you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Right in the middle of the stage. Right in the middle of the applause and the neon lights and the DJ introducing Nat as the next singer.

Your lips tasted as sweet as you looked, and Bradley almost dropped the microphone trying to get his arms around you as well. You kissed his lips softly and then laughed before you let your lips skim over his mustache. 

"I had fun, Rooster," you whispered over all the commotion as you stepped off the stage with Bradley in tow. When Nat snatched the microphone out of his hand with a wink, you took his hand in both of yours. 

"Think they'll let us sing another song together?" he asked, watching the smile on your lips as you took your denim hair scrunchie off your own wrist and pushed it over his hand. He looked down at his left wrist, now adorned with it. "What's this for?" he asked with what he was sure was a dopey grin.

"Keep it, Rooster," you said, but suddenly your friends were there, slowly pulling you away from him. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, his heart lurching as he ran his fingers over your scrunchie and tried to follow you. But the crowd was closing in on him, everyone going wild for Nat singing Physical. "I don't even know your name!"

You called out to him as you blew a kiss, but he couldn't hear you. He shoved Javy out of the way, trying to get to you again. As the crowd thinned near the exit, Bradley ran outside after you. But you were gone. There was no sign of you or your friends. All that was left was your scrunchie, the songs stuck in his head, and the feel of your lips on his. 

--------------------------

"I imagined her," Bradley said for the sixth time at work on Monday. "She was perfect, but she wasn't even real." He was stretched out on the couch in the aviators' lounge with your scrunchie in his hand and a pout on his face.

"She was real, Rooster," Nat told him with an eye roll. "We all saw her. We all saw her kiss you before she left. Maybe it was your choice of song? Maybe she didn't want you, baby?" she asked with a devilish smirk. 

Bradley launched the scrunchie at his friend's face, making her squeal. But then he was up off the couch immediately, running to collect his precious souvenir from the ground before anything happened to it. He balled it up in his hand and tucked it into the pocket of his flight suit. 

"It would be impossible to find her again. I don't even know her name," he mumbled, kicking his foot along the floor as he sighed. "She was just..." He was thinking about your voice as you sang and your pretty face and your vintage denim jacket. "Perfect."

Nat took a step closer and patted him on the chest. "There has to be some way... Oh!"

"What?" Bradley asked, meeting her bright eyes with his hopeful ones. 

"There would have to be other '80s karaoke nights around San Diego," she said quickly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Bradley's heart filled with hope as she said, "We could go to them, and maybe she'll be there."

"Nat. You're a genius."

When Friday night rolled around, Bradley picked Nat up in her hot pink spandex, and they drove to a bar in Oceanside where a throwback night was in full swing. 

"See her anywhere?" Nat called over the loud music. 

Just then someone started singing Don't You Want Me. Bradley's heart leapt. But it was a guy with a terrible voice and a girl who wasn't you. 

"No," Bradley groaned, his heart full of frustration. "She's not here," he confirmed after walking through the entire bar. 

And the following night, Bradley and Nat went to a bar in Balboa Park, ready to search for you again. They walked into a room full of people dancing around and singing to a Bon Jovi cover band. 

After looking everywhere, taking his time to search the crowd, a dejected Bradley shook his head at Nat, and she followed him back outside to the Bronco. 

The following Friday was no better as they hit up a club downtown. After they had no luck there, Nat told him about another karaoke night in Pacific Beach. 

"This is it, Nat. This is the last one," Bradley told her, glancing at your scrunchie on the shifter as he drove. "If she's not here, then I need to stop looking."

"But, she could be-"

"Nat, come on. I've been like this for two weeks. I can't stop thinking about her, which is absolutely ridiculous. We sang two songs together, and then she bailed. I'm starting to think that even if I do find her, she's not going to remember who I am!"

She sighed in the passenger seat, and said, "I really hope she's here, just so I can see you proven wrong."

So Bradley searched the bar for you while he listened to so many bad singers in a row. He felt desperate now, knowing there wouldn't be another chance after this. And every time a denim jacket and a cute face caught his eye, he did a double take. But you weren't here either. The search was off now. 

"Let's go," he told Nat, swallowing hard as he headed outside. And then he tossed your scrunchie into the center console, started up the engine and left.

-------------------------

"Come on," whined Nat, pulling on Bradley's arm. "I'll be fun!" Bradley was trying to head home after working late on Friday, but she wasn't going to let him.

"I don't feel like going to the Hard Deck tonight." He just wanted to go home, relax and pretend like he didn't still have your scrunchie in his pocket half the time. 

But she stomped her foot. "No. You've been pouting. Javy, Bob and Jake are already there. We're going."

Bradley groaned and agreed to follow her to the bar to have exactly one drink. But when he walked in and realized that it was set up for karaoke, he turned to try to sneak back out.

"There he is!" Nat called, rushing forward to grab his hand before he had a chance to leave. "You promised. One drink."

"Fine," he grunted, sitting at the bar with his back to everyone else who was rushing up to pick a song to sing. And when Penny handed him a beer, he drank half of it in one sip, trying to finish it as quickly as he could. 

When he was done, he reached into his pocket to get his wallet, pulling out your scrunchie at the same time. He shook his head, ready to toss it into the trash can behind the bar. But then he heard the opening chords of I've Had The Time Of My Life start playing. He'd been listening to the song nonstop for weeks, and when he spun to face the stage, he saw you. In your denim jacket. 

"Rooster!" You had the microphone held up to your lips, and you were calling out to him. 

"It's you!" he called back, trying to make his way through the crowd to get closer as his heart pounded.

"It's me," you told him with a bright smile. "Looks like I accidentally picked a duet as soon as I saw you. I need a partner. Are you available?"

He pushed his way through the crowd and jumped up onto the stage. "Yeah, I'm available." Then your hand was grabbing the front of his shirt, and his lips met yours. The crowd was screaming and cheering as you smiled against his mouth. 

"I thought I dreamed you up," he told you, resting his forehead against yours. "Like a fairytale Princess in a denim jacket. Please don't leave this time."

"I won't," you promised, kissing him hard before turning to the DJ and giving him a thumbs up. When the song restarted, Bradley took the microphone and sang to you. 

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before. 

Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

And then he opened up his hand, showing you that he still had your scrunchie. You gently took it as you smiled up at him in surprise, and then you slid it onto his wrist before taking his hand. But after that song, Bradley didn't even bother trying to bribe the DJ for more, because he had you in his arms, your name on his lips, and your phone number saved for later. 

-------------------------

If your man won't search the kingdom for you and then turn to a pile of mush when he finds you, then he's not the one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[vapekingg]

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader Fluff/angst 18+ for suggestive mentions WK - 4.3k TW for homophobic slurs Closeted reader and Robin, first kiss, first date, drive in date, Steddie setting up Robin and reader.

The overhead bell at Family Video dinged above you as you pushed your way into the air conditioned storefront.

“Right on time.” Steve said from the checkout counter. 

He was glancing down at his watch, boyfriend and best friend huddled around him as usual. You’d made a habit of checking out two or three movies every week just to have an excuse to wander over from your job at the record shop next door. 

“I take lunch at two o’clock every day, dingus.” You replied. 

Robin couldn’t help but to smile. She’d noticed you’d picked up that nickname for Steve after hearing her call him it a time or two. 

But she couldn’t smile for too long. Couldn’t let her eyes linger too heavily on the fray of your denim shorts — or more accurately, the flawless skin that sat just beneath it like a colliding estuary. Couldn’t let you know that she adored you in that way. 

Robin took a step back when you approached the counter. Sometimes she felt scared to even be around you, like you could smell the fag shedding off of her. As if she was sickly. Contagious. That’s what people would say behind her back if they knew. 

“Got anything new in?” You asked while sliding Steve the VHS you’d barely had for twenty-four hours. 

“Since you came in yesterday?” He cocked an eyebrow, “No.” 

“New release at the drive-in tonight though. Elm Street 4.” Eddie mentioned from your side of the desk. It was so miserable out that even he’d shed the leather jacket you typically saw him wearing, settling for a simple all black get up with that telling bandana hanging out the back of his jeans. 

“Eh, let me know when it comes in. Last time I went to the drive-in alone some high schooler tried to hop in my passenger seat and cop a feel.” You mentioned. 

You were content with watching re-runs on television late into the night while curled up on your sofa, you supposed. But a part of you wished you could just ask Robin to accompany you to that fucking movie. 

“No goddamn way she’s not into chicks,” your co-workers told you to every time you came back from leaning over that fucking service desk during your half hour lunch. “She hangs out with Steve and Eddie all day, for fuck’s sake!”

Fuck, how you wished you could believe it as easily as they did. Even if you did believe it, it was easier just to protect your ego. 

What if you made a move and she wasn’t into it? Would she recoil like she’d been shocked by a live wire? Maybe she’d use one of those hurtful words that you’d only heard while kissing girls outside of bars in the city. It was less painful to not take the chance. At least this way you could admire her from afar — on your lunch break, while she was dressed in that adorable uniform that fit her so well. 

“Why don’t you go with her, Robin?” Steve said, ripping you out of your daydream and forcing fear up your spine like the knived fingers of Krueger himself. “You love the Elm Street movies.”

Robin’s baby blues widened from sudden anxiety. She used them to stare at Steve frantically, as if he hadn’t been the one to just thrust her into this situation in the first place. Instead, all she received from him was raised eyebrows and a humored smile while her own mouth failed to produce words. 

“I, uh—” Robin stuttered, “I think I close tonight, actually!”

“Negative. Harrington closes tonight.” Eddie replied with cheek. Of course he had his own boyfriend’s work schedule down pat. God only knows how they defiled that check-out counter once Robin left those two alone in the evenings. 

You cocked an eyebrow at her. The way your bubblegum peeked out from between your teeth when your lips parted into a smile had her wondering how sugary sweet it tasted — how sugary sweet you tasted. 

“Don’t wanna be seen in my hatchback, Buckley? I’ll let you play DJ on the way there.”

Robin could feel the blood pumping through her veins. Every beat of her heart became so increasingly violent she could hear it in her ears. Of course she wanted to sit shotgun to you while you toted her around, but even the occupation of passenger princess came with its anxieties. What music to play, directions to give, do you hold a conversation or is that too distracting?

“Yes.” She burped out, and it sounded much like a bubble popping or a bullfrog croaking late in the night. All three of you looked at her with confusion. 

“Yes, what?” You asked. “Yes, we’re going?”

“Ye—yeah, that. Let’s go!” She continued after flitting her eyes to Steve and then immediately away. “I get off at six, movie starts at seven. Pick me up at my house?”

She followed the question with that nervous, adorable half-smile you often saw — and adored — right after she did something embarrassing, but there was no excuse to be embarrassed here. 

“Okay.” You said with disbelief. “Okay, yeah. You live off of Rosewood, right?”

She nodded through a broken grin and you began backing up toward the door. There was still plenty of time left on your lunch break, but suddenly Family Video felt even hotter than late August in Indiana and you needed air. Why was there no air in this goddamn building?

“Great,” you said in time with the bell above the front door. “Cool. I’ll be there.”

**********

“Cool, you finally asked her on a date!”

“I didn’t ask her on a date,” you told Mitch, your coworker, for the fifth time. “And I don’t even think it’s a date! Harrington kinda just set us up on some weird playdate like moms do with their socially awkward kids so they can get some alone time.”

You’d been trying for the past two hours to sort through the boxes of new inventory, but with your brain so scrambled, Blondie and Bowie read the exact same. Besides, you couldn’t get that adorable pout out of your head. The way Robin had looked so pitiful when she’d realized you were making an abrupt escape from such a sticky situation.

Sticky, because sometimes being queer felt like a glue trap sitting on your skin. Like you were a little mouse frantically trying to pull yourself free, or a fly hanging midair on a strip of paper. Sometimes you thought it might kill you.

“What’re you gonna wear?” Tiffany asked from behind the register. 

You looked down at your sprawled out form, comfortable and covered in records on the floor of the shop.

“This?”

“That?” She asked again. “You look like fucking Munson.”

It was true that you and Eddie shared a few qualities, at least when it came to style. The frayed hem of your shorts tickled your thighs and was mostly chosen for aesthetic purposes, but the cut off sleeves of your Iron Maiden t-shirt were purely practical. It was too goddamn hot to not show a little skin. 

“Robin dresses like a fucking dad. I’m wearing this, Tiff.” You reiterated.

Tiffany shrugged and went back to her counting, as if to say something along the lines of, “It’s your funeral.”

You stood in front of your mirror after your shift that afternoon.

Would it be your funeral if you wore the same outfit you’d been seen in earlier that evening? Maybe Robin didn’t like the way you dressed. If she didn’t like your cut offs, this very well could be the death of something that hadn’t even started yet. 

You held up top after top in front of your chest, shorts after shorts before your waist and nothing seemed perfect. You wouldn’t wear a dress to the movies with a straight girl – which is all that you could assume Robin was, and all she could assume you were as well. So you remained in your cut off shorts and Iron Maiden tank top while sliding your sunglasses off of your forehead to face the blinding late afternoon rays. Grabbing your keys off of the counter seems like a battle in and of itself, as if holding them in your hand meant that you had to get in your car and make a fool of yourself, but you combated that thought by snatching them up quickly. Hardly giving yourself enough time to talk yourself out of the date that you’d been set up on. 

But calling it that was dangerous. Presumptions got people killed. That’s what Steve and Eddie and Tiffany and Mitch failed to understand. 

You’d heard the stories in the city. They were talked about loudly while you flirted with girls at gay bars in Indianapolis — how another queer teenager had been killed, a casualty of the growing “gay panic” that seemed to be the excuse of every homophobic, bloodthirsty meathead that was looking for an excuse to rough someone up. 

Those thoughts faded away with the roar of your engine, and soon you were heading down Peony Circle, then Dahlia Street, and then Rosewood Drive. You recognized her house from the many birthday parties your mother had forced you to go to as a kid, until birthday parties became uncool — or at least until Robin stopped handing out invitations. 

She was waiting outside for you. And Jesus Christ, the way she knocked her knees together while sitting on the front steps of her porch caused you to pump the brake just a little bit harder. 

You liked Robin’s freckles the most. You liked how they didn’t stop at her cheeks, rather decorated her body in constellations. Even her shins and arms. Now that she was out of her Family Video uniform and adorned in a more comfortable pair of shorts and tank top, you could see the spots splattered across her chest, too, and that alone made heat fill your face. 

“I think I prefer your uniform.” You teased as she plopped herself down into your passenger seat. 

“Oh, shut up.” Robin spat with no malice, but the rasp of her voice never failed to make your heart swell. “I can’t believe you don’t have one. How long do we have?”

You glanced at the clock on your dashboard and signaled a three and then a zero with your free hand while popping a cigarette between your lips with the other. 

“Want one?” You asked. 

And to your soul crushing dismay, Robin visibly recoiled. 

“Gross.”

Immediately, back into the pack it went. 

She chose a Joan Jett & the Blackhearts album for the drive, which was to be expected. It wasn’t like you had any Madonna or Bowie albums lying around for her to choose from. And even if it wasn’t exactly her style, Robin put her feet up on your dashboard and tapped her toes along to the beat of Crimson and Clover like she’d been here before. Like you picking her up and toting her around was an everyday occurrence. Like she belonged in your passenger seat. 

“I got it.” You told her when she tried to hand you a few crumpled up dollars as you pulled up to the gate, then handed the teller a fiver. Enough to cover the bill for both of you. The drive-in on a Friday night was a lot like a no man’s land. Everyone in Hawkins seemed to flock there for a bit of entertainment and respite from the summer heat once the sun went down. The layout was structured:

In the first set of rows were families with screaming, playing children and nervous first dates. Little boys and girls running around outside of cars with bubble wands and teenage couples who got there earlier enough for a good parking spot, that way there was no pressure to make out or fool around in the back seat once the stars aligned. In the second rows were those that needed the stars to align. The lovestruck couples that couldn’t wait for the lights to dim over Indiana, just so they could get a taste of each other. The second batch or rows meant heated touches and wandering hands, fogged up windows and cries muffled into a cigarette burnt seat cushion. It was sweaty, once in a lifetime summertime teenage love that one looks back on well into their life and reminisces just for a moment before continuing on with their day. 

Had you gotten there earlier, maybe you could have been one of those second rowers. God knows you needed the stars to align. You needed Robin to be like you, needed someone in this town besides fucking Steve and Eddie to be queer and not be afraid to show it. 

Instead, you parked your hatchback at the very back of the lot, where high schoolers and washed up jocks roamed the gravel like lions during a feeding frenzy.

“You’re sure about this?” Robin asked, nerves settling into her throat and weeping out through her tone of voice. You could see it painted on her face when she glanced past you and noticed Jason Carver leaned against the hood of his car, still sporting his letterman jacket from three years ago.

“We can go grab a movie at work and go back to yours instead?”

“I think we’ll be okay.” You said while flashing her a half-hearted smile, “Just… lock your door.” But the look on Andy’s face when you stole another glance their direction told you that you would make a liar out of yourself by the end of the night, and there was something comforting about knowing that maybe the universe was about to start making decisions on your behalf. Concessions came around shortly before the movie began, and you bought a large popcorn and two sodas. You let the bucket rest between the two of you and were careful to not put your hand anywhere near it when hers was there — as if one touch was all it would take. The simple brushing of a few fingers, and she would begin calling you that ugly “F” word.

“Does Steve do this to you often?” You asked when there was hardly any light left in the sky. Just a few more minutes, and you wouldn’t feel the need to make small talk. You could enjoy the movie in peace and go back to admiring Robin from afar tomorrow, just like you preferred doing.

“Set you up on playdates, I mean.” You continued when she scrunched up her eyebrows in an adorable manner. 

“Oh, uh…” She said while glancing down at her hands, and you were afraid then that you might’ve offended her. “He just wants me to make more girlfriends — FRIENDS! Friends, I mean!”

She stuttered, and her baby blues became wide. But she snapped them up to you, and as more words came tumbling out of her mouth, you were just thankful that she was actually looking at you again.

“Friends. I don’t really have any besides Steve and Eddie, but no, they don’t do this often.”

Now you were the one furrowing your brow, along with the cock of your head. You turned sideways in your seat to face her.

“You don’t think we’re friends?” You asked.

Robin shrugged. “Are we? This is the first time we’ve hung out since we were in grade school.”

“I come to see you every day at work.” You slipped.

And with those words slipped your heart.

Little did you know, Robin’s heart slipped, too. Right out of her chest. She would’ve bet money that had she looked down, that still beating organ would’ve been a bloody mess at her feet and she would’ve had to apologize for dirtying up your floorboards. 

“You’re visiting me?” She asked quietly, mouth slightly ajar.

“Not Steve?” is what she wanted to follow with, as she was more than used to seeing Steve upsell like a pro daily with the ladies at Family Video — even if they did know that he was dating Eddie.

Even with the truth laid out before her on a silver platter, Robin still refused to believe it. 

And by the grace of God, before you were forced to answer with a gut wrenching, moment defining confession, the big screen lit up and A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master began its opening credits. 

You turned forward in your seat, and Robin continued to rasp her fingernail against the side of that sweating Coca-Cola cup as the movie played on. Anxiety riddled thoughts played out in her head in rapid fire succession, so quickly that each jump scare didn’t cause hardly a flinch as she stared forward.

You’d been visiting her. In your cut off shorts and tank tops that’s been sliced down the sides. Every day, for months. Had those movies gone unwatched, or had you actually taken all of her recommendations to heart and played them over and over again in the darkness of your living room? Had you invited another girl along to watch them with you? Maybe they hadn’t even made it out of the record store. You’d left them there overnight just as an excuse to bring them back the next morning to see her again. And you were punching yourself for talking so much. Because everything was ruined now, wasn’t it? Robin would know you were a dyke, a fag, and she’d duck into the back of the store every time you came to snag a peek at those constellation-like freckles that darkened with the summer sun.

But all thoughts, yours and Robin’s alike, came to a screeching halt when faced with that damned waterbed scene. 

A beautiful blonde, completely nude, hair splayed out around her, breasts pressed against translucent rubber. She was unrealistic. Not perfect, just unattainable, but that was what made Joey — and you — so fixated on her. 

You had to move. You could feel your limbs tensing up, as if they were about to creak like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. You slipped your hand to the center console to grab a fistful of popcorn. Even if you weren’t hungry, you had to pretend like you weren’t sweating bullets, right? Had to pretend that you didn’t feel like some undercover agent that was being talked about in the third person. But why did the girl on the screen have to be so pretty? You couldn’t help but to stare, and the warm butter mixed with the stickiness of summer air forced a whole new sensation to befall you. The sensation of everything closing in, of it all coming to a head, to an end. And then, there was skin. 

Robin’s fingers met yours at the center of the popcorn bucket, and she was sure that her heart stopped. It might have minutes ago when that girl had popped up on the screen, but it was nonexistent now. 

And you didn’t move your hand away when it met hers, despite it feeling much like a jolt of electricity racing through your entire body. That momentary effervescence, it was enough to get you through the stress of living in a world that didn’t understand.

But it wasn’t long lasting, as a chili dog thrown with the force of a football hit your back windshield full speed. You ripped your hand away from Robin’s, nearly knocking the bucket of popcorn all over her in the process. 

“Fuck!” You mumbled to yourself. From the driver’s side mirror, you saw Jason and Andy approaching your window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was Andy who tapped against the glass with knuckles calloused from years of playing sports, and you bit the inside of your cheek while rolling the window down. 

“First date?” Jason grinned from outside of your car. 

“Go fuck yourself, Carver.” You spat with immediate regret. 

But then Robin’s elbow seemed to bump yours near the center console, and whether it was on accident or purpose you couldn’t be sure, but that skin to skin contact allowed you to ground yourself a bit this time around. 

“Just trying to enjoy our movie.” You continued, and never once did you dare meet eyes with either of them. 

Because last time you had, well, they’d seen too much.

You and some redhead tangled up in each other beneath a streetlight in a sparse parking lot. You’d thought you were the last ones out of The Hideout that night, but you’d been wrong, and they’d witnessed it all. Every bit of your mouth on hers, her hands around your waist, and the way you’d ushered her quickly into your car once you caught a glimpse of your audience. 

“Right.” Andy drawled, and you saw him lean past you to look at Robin in the passenger seat. “Know what else she enjoys?”

“Andy,” You bargained with a nervous smile covered by your fingers, eyes closed gently so you wouldn’t have to witness the explosion of what could have been. 

But Robin was already anticipating his next words, and her heart hurt for you.

“She’s butch.” He said loudly, “A fuckin’ dyke, y’know? Right here in Hawkins.”

There it was, the final nail in your coffin. You could feel the pity shedding off of Robin from the seat over, and perhaps that was the worst part of all. 

“Come on.” She whispered. The blood and gore playing out before you was nothing compared to how absolutely gutted you felt inside, and Robin could certainly sense that. “Let’s just go home.”

“Home?” Jason teased. 

From what little you could see through your back window, you noticed a third figure blocking your exit.

“So you lesbos can scissor it up in private? That’s what you came here for.” He continued, and your hand slowly made their way toward the keys that sat in the uncranked ignition. “Go on, give us a show. Just like you did at the bar.”

With the roar of your engine, Patrick McKinney scarcely missed getting snagged in the ass with the edge of your bumper. You peeled out of there, dodging roughhousing teenagers and kids that were just heading back to their parents with fresh buckets of popcorn just alike. You could hear your heart thumping like a drum in your ears, could feel the tears prickling the corners of your eyes — but you wouldn’t cry. Not yet. 

It wasn’t until you pulled up in front of your apartment and let your knuckles soften around the steering wheel that you realized what you’d done.

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean to bring you back here.” You sighed while shaking away the thoughts in your head like an Etch-A-Sketch. “Like, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to—”

“I don’t think anything.” Robin interrupted. 

She hadn’t put her feet up on the dashboard during the drive back. Hell, she hadn’t even put her seatbelt on — which was uncharacteristic of a hypochondriac. Instead, she’d sat there holding her hands in her lap, disbelieving of what she’d just found out to be true.

She wasn’t alone. In this small, backwoods town — there was someone like her. 

You washed your hand over your face and contemplated where to go from there, and after a moment, you knew what you wanted to do.

“They weren’t lying, you know.” You laughed, and then looked at her for the first time in what felt like ages.

And the look you saw on Robin’s face, surprisingly, was not that of disgust. But one of hope. A light sheen covered her waterline, as if she’d just been granted her dying wish — kinship.

“I kiss girls.” You said while running your hand through your hair. “Like, a lot. Almost exclusively, actually. I just don’t want you to think that I was trying to bring you home, or that I was trying to pull anything weir—”

But everything past that first sentence was lost on Robin’s ears. The next thing she knew, her mouth was moving without permission from her brain.

“No, I kiss girls, too!” She blurted out, and then squeezed her eyes together with embarrassment. 

You smiled, and she spoke quickly to save herself.

“I mean, in theory.” She corrected, “I would love to kiss a girl! I haven’t actually kissed a girl. I mean, it isn’t like there are tons of options in Hawkins. But if I had the chance — I mean, if the right girl came along—”

“Robin,” you interrupted, and her chest deflated with relief. 

You reached forward to place a gentle hand on her cheek, and it almost seemed right that all of this was happening under the cover of the night. Like it was made easier for her because of it. You could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she could feel the pulse thumping away in your thumb as you brushed her temple. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You asked.

And with a sigh, as if she’d been waiting for you to ask since you’d first set foot in Family Video some months ago, she replied.

“Please.”

So you did. You leaned across your center console, and her lips were just as plush and pillow soft against yours as they looked. It was everything that you’d anticipated, everything that those second rowers back at the drive-in were chasing after. Robin tasted like a cotton candy summertime sunset that would soon fade into a cashmere sweater, and there was no better way to explain that other than the cusp of summer and fall was your favorite. She was your favorite. 

When you pulled away, you could see by the way her eyes remained closed that perhaps you were her favorite, too.

[wildemaven]

1000 kisses to you and here's my 2 prompt picks for the drabble thingie: 4 and 15 with Javier

Can't wait to see what it leads to 😘

call me javi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x reader word count: 651 content warning: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing, fluff, javier being protective and sweet, I don’t think there’s anything else note: sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I hope this works okay 💕 thanks for sending in your ask and for you support

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” You say loudly rather close to his ear, hoping he can hear over the booming music and crowded bar. 

It was a slow week at the embassy, which meant the DEA’s finest had a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves for once. 

Drinks flowing. Bodies grinding in tune with each song the DJ throws out, keeping the energy circulating throughout the small bar you all frequent regularly. 

Tonight would be like any other Friday with your fellow Agents, except this evening you find yourself drawn to one Agent in particular. 

His body has been firmly against yours for the better part of the evening, front and back. Hands holding you close no matter the pace of the song, selfishly worried you might drift away or find yourself in the arms of someone else. 

You lost count at the amount of times his lips brushed over your own ears. His constant need to check in with you had your chest tight and stomach full of fluttering desire. 

There was a small part of you that was feeling he might even like you. More than just a crush born from an evening of close proximity. There was never a thought that he would be, not with all the beautiful women constantly in his arms in all the years you’ve known him. 

With the way his warm brown eyes are so fixated on you says otherwise. His expression exchanged for something a little less brooding and a little more alluring. Hands still finding purchase by any means as you lean against the wall while his body shields you from onlookers. The dimly lit hallway near the back of the bar adds another layer of privacy. 

“Who’s everyone?” Javier’s voice is laced with a nervousness you’ve never heard before. The stoic demeanor he wears regularly now hangs up alongside his worn-in leather jacket. 

There’s a raspiness brought on by the pack of cigarettes he most likely blew through leading up to showing up here, even though he said he had other plans.

“Who do you think?” You smirk playfully at him, your fingers playing with the damp curls at the base of his neck. 

“Steve?” There was no need to even ask, he already knew how protective Steve was, rightfully so. Didn’t mean he still didn’t find his overbearing partner to be a pain in his ass, especially when it came to you. 

You nod in agreement, desperately trying to contain the laughter bubbling up as he huffs out  dramatically, shaking his head. The annoyance doesn’t last long though. The corners of his mouth lifting, revealing one of his best features. His smile makes you instantly weak and it has you prematurely looking forward to being on the receiving end of it forever. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Javier?” The prospect of his lips on you, in any capacity, had been overwhelming your every thought since he saddled up next to you at the beginning of the night.

Watching the way his lips formed every word he spoke. Cradling the edge of his glass on his plush lower lip as he sipped on his dry whiskey. Contorting in such a delicate way with each drag he pulled from his cigarette. 

They’re the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Excruciatingly blissful, deliberately encompassing your own, as your brain silently screams for more. 

“Javi.” Javi. It rolls off his tongue like a sweet springtime honey. Each letter electric as he says it, leaving your mouth tingling as it brands itself to your soul. 

“Hmm?” Too consumed by him to form words. 

“You can call me Javi from now on.” There’s a permanence in the way he says it, something you both have to discuss once the hangovers have worn off tomorrow. 

“Kiss me again— Javi.” And he does well into the next morning. 

[lazygirldoesfics]

drunk confession [1/7]

how i imagine each of the bistro huddy guys would drunkenly confess their feelings for you

starting with nico !!

Nicole plops into the passenger seat of your old sedan, heaving a sigh. "Thanks for picking me up last minute."

"No worries, you're on my way anyway. What happened to Bridgette?"

"She fucking bailed." You watch as Nicole studies herself in the visor mirror. She picks at her mascara, eyes sparking with outrage as she continues, "Her bum ass boyfriend told her she 'couldn't come', that it's not 'his scene' so it'd be 'disrespectful' if she goes to another guy's birthday party without him. Like fucking grow up."

"Unbelievable," you groan, commiserating.

"I don't know why she stays with him," Nicole says smacking the visor back into place before she turns to you. Her lips curl upwards, deviously. "Which means we have to put in the work tonight to make sure she feels every bit of FOMO and gets pissed at that piece of shit so I'm not the only one seething about it." Nicole pulls out her phone, angling the camera to get both of you in the shot, and snaps a picture when you're wearing matching frowns. She texts it to Bridgette as you shift the car into gear and take off.

"Of course he picks a spot with absolutely no fucking parking," Nicole complains as you make your way to the club. The click clack of your heels echoes every inch of road you had to drive down until you finally found a place to park. Nicole keeps having to pull her dress down, grumbling each time she wrangles the hem back into it's place. You suppress a smile, amused by her grumpiness, knowing fully well that if she didn't want to be here she wouldn't have put in the effort to show up.

"It's gonna be fun," you cheer. "He's been talking up this spot all week."

Nicole stops dead, glancing down at you with eyes bearing just a hint of judgement. "It's Nico. I don't exactly trust his idea of a great spot. I'm prepared for sexual harassment and well drinks that taste like diesel." You shove her playfully with your elbow and that at least rises a smile out of her. "All I'm saying is I better get extra fries all week for coming to this. Like they better be hot and waiting as soon as I clock in."

"Agreed," you laugh.

There's a line out the door that emits more cursing from Nicole, but you make the best of it by sending selfies to Bridgette while you wait. She responds to each one almost instantly, hearting the messages or sending crying emojis. You frown when Nicole suggests this means Bridgette's probably watching reruns of Real Housewives by herself, while her boyfriend ignores her.

When it's your turn to be inspected by the bouncer, you give him your best smile. He barely glances at you before waving you passed the threshold. Stepping beyond the entrance door, you become engulfed by the change in atmosphere. Sweat slick air clings to you, fog from the DJ booth hazes your vision and the thrum of the bass pulsates through to your core. An air of cloying desperation sinks into your skin while your heels stick to the grime covered floor.

Nicole coughs next to you, disdain barely concealed. Eagle-eyed, you spot a guy stumbling towards your direction, beer sloshing onto the floor in his wake. Gently, you steer Nicole to the left, just beyond the drunken splash zone, saving her from a drenching.

That man has no idea of the life debt he owes you.

Nicole clenches her eye shut, breathing deeply. "Okay. Okay! I'm aligning my energy. I am here." Her eyes snap open and she brushes her long blond tendril back. "Let's go kill this shit."

She uses her height to scan the crowd and you're happy to watch from your shorter vantage point. "I see them." Nicole strides through the crowd towards the left side of the dance floor and you follow the path she carves. Still, she checks behind her every so often to make sure she hasn't lost you.

At last you make it through the crowd, rewarded with the sight of familiar faces. Brad turns his attention from the bar to wave a greeting, then signals back to the bartender to add two more drinks to his order. Ruby toasts her beer to you with a barely perceptible nod. Joey, perched at the edge of a black plastic bar stool, rubs at his temples. "This music is fucking awful."

"Oh, don't be such a boomer, Joey," Nicole teases, happy to abandon her own irritability if it means she gets to rub Joey's face in his. He mouths for her to shut up and Nicole responds by turning around to snap a selfie. She winks at you after sending the photo off to Bridgette, a secret between the two of you that she actually agrees with Joey more than he'll ever know. You choke down a laugh as you sit next to Ruby, letting Nicole sidle up to Brad and grab the two drinks he ordered for you both.

"Where's the birthday boy?" you ask and Ruby nods towards the dance floor. It's easy to spot Nico with his signature red bandana, though you don't know the cute blond girl he's dancing with. The burn of a blush creeps up your neck as you linger on Nico's hand clutching at the girl's side, ashamed that you notice the way his eyes rake down her figure. Besides him is Pickles, bouncing around like a pinball and dancing, presumably, with himself. That, at least, makes you smile.

"Bottoms up!" Nicole announces, handing a shot off to you. Her and Ruby share a terse smile. You wish they'd get along better, they are so incredibly alike.

You down the shot, letting the warm burn fill you. "Next one's on me!" you say, putting the glass down on the table and standing. "Anyone gonna dance?"

Ruby stills and Nicole proclaims she's not ready, turning back towards the bar to get another drink. Brad scans the crowd, though his eyes seem to trail after Nicole as she flirts with the bartender.

"Joey?"

The chef shakes his head. "Sorry, sunshine, as soon as this beer's done I'm out of here." He shakes his half full bottle of Coors at you. You put your hands on your hips, feigning appall. "You're all boring." With that, you jump into the crowd next to Pickles and bump your hip into his in time with the music.

"Y/N!!!" Pickles beams, flinging his arms around you and squeezing. "I'm so happy you're here!"

You squeeze Pickles just as hard, then take his hand to let him twirl you around. As you spin your eyes lock with Nico's, unaware that he'd even noticed you were here. You smile at him over Pickles' shoulder, and his lips pull into that lazy half-grin he sometimes gives you from behind the line. The blond he is with is lightning fast though, putting her hands on either side of his face to pull his focus back to her.

Your chest tightens, but the music changes to a song with a fast bass that dissolves the knots forming. You grab onto Pickles' hands and you jump together while sing-screaming the lyrics at each other. This goes on for awhile, the songs bleeding into each other, each one hyping you and Pickles up more and more.

The latest song begins to fade and Pickles leans into you, panting. "I need water."

You nod in agreement, fanning yourself with the neck of your shirt. Hands entwined, Pickles pulls you off the dance floor. Ruby and Joey are exactly where you'd left them, a few more beer bottles discarded around the table and hands waving wildly as they argue about something. Nicole stands a few feet away, back leisurely pressed against the bar. She's making exaggerated expressions over her espresso martini glass. You follow her eye line as you press up to the bar next to her and realize she is silently judging Brad's dance partner. Brad's eyebrows react back to her, and though not a word passes either of their lips, they are having a full blown conversation. Gracefully, Brad untangles himself from the girl, walking back over to Nicole in defeat. "I didn't think she was that bad."

"I didn't say a word," Nicole responds, smugly.

Barely hiding a smirk as the bartender approaches, you ask for two waters, handing a cup over to Pickles when they're given to you. The song changes just as the water hits your lips. The familiar opening bars to a Queen song fills the club. You turn to Pickles, eyes meeting each other in pure delight and the water cups are immediately discarded. "Oh we're ALL dancing to this one!" You proclaim, latching onto Nicole and Brad's wrists. You pull them forward, pushing them to follow Pickles onto the floor before you turn on Ruby and Joey. "You guys too, let's go! C'mon Joseph!" Ruby gets up, feigning reluctance as she lets you prod her along while you pull Joey by the crook of his elbow onto the floor with you.

You meet the others just in time to hear the girl Nico had been dancing with pout over the song being lame. She leaves when she realizes Nico's attention is totally lost for the moment. The song may not be her thing, but it also probably didn't help the way Pickles was jumping on top of Nico with abandon, holding absolutely no regard for her attempt to continue grinding. You all surround Nico, singing at the top of your lungs and jostling him in the middle of your mini mosh pit. Even Joey belts out a few words and plays air drums along with Nico's air guitar. Nicole catches it all on video, instantly sending it to Bridgette.

"Alright, alright. I'm outta here," Joey says as the song ends, waving his hands in front of his chest when you groan in protest. He pulls Nico in for an overly aggressive hug and slap on the back. "And don't any of yous be late tomorrow. I'm not dealing with a Terry temper tantrum." A chorus of 'bye Joey' and eye rolls reply to him.

"I'm heading out too. Happy Birthday," Ruby adds, a near smile hinting at her lips before following her boss towards the exit.

"Need. Water." Pickles pants again and heads back to the bar, just as the blond girl re-enters and takes up Pickles' spot next to Nico. Nicole and Brad, who have somehow gotten into an argument about how to make a proper gin martini, are so lost in their own bickering that they haven't noticed the crowd jostling around them. You stand awkwardly next to them, not wanting to get involved but feeling like you can't exactly escape either. Holding your arms across your chest, you sway uncertainly.

A hand find yours, and you look over your shoulder to see Nico tugging you back towards him. "It's not too early to cash in on a birthday dance is it?" He smiles at you in that aloof way, his eyes focusing in on you. A question bubbles on your tongue, wanting to know where the blond went but you decide you'd rather not know. "No, not too early. Right on time, I think," you smile back, fitting your arms around his neck.

His left hand is soft against your lower back, fingers guiding you to sway back and forth in time with the music. You're moving slow, the beat lost as you can feel the inches between you and Nico closing. The club is nothing but Nico's dark eyes swallowing you, the weight of his arms pulling around you until you're poised to meld together. You can't take the heat of Nico's eyes on you anymore so you hide against his collarbone, eyes shutting and letting the smell of earth and smoke on his shirt collar encompass your whole world. You're not sure if the thrumming you feel is the bass or your own heart, if you're still dancing or just standing still wrapped up in Nico's arms.

Suddenly you're knocked backwards, stumbling over your own feet until you hit up against someone. "Hey!" a voice shouts, indignant and you mumble an apology as you try to find reality again. "What the fuck, man," Nico's saying, head turning to glare at the man who'd shoved him and caused you to nearly fall on your ass. The guy is standing over him, absolutely beaming. When Nico finally sees him, he starts laughing. "Oh! Yo, I almost fucked you up man!" The two start shoving each other, albeit playfully, as more guys surround Nico, shouldering anyone, including you, out of the way to land punches and smacks on Nico's shoulder and stomach.

You feel disoriented, discarded even, as you slowly find your way back to the edge of the dance floor. You find the others there, all looking towards the sea of newcomers that have swallowed Nico. "Who are those guys?" you ask, hating how defeated your voice sounds.

"I think they used to work with Nico at Waffle House, at least some of them did," Pickles informs you. You try not to watch him assess you, ignoring the slight frown he wears as he turns to the bar to order another water. You drink it slowly when he hands it to you, watching the amorphous blob of raucous men completely take over the dance floor.

"And that's my cue to leave," Nicole asserts. "Ready?" she looks at you expectantly.

You should leave. You know this in the way you feel cold and unsure and slightly humiliated but you can't ignore that something just opened up between you and Nico. You're not quite ready to leave whatever that is behind yet.

"I'll drive you home," Brad interjects, saving you from having to say anything at all. You're not sure if he could sense your hesitation or if he was just looking for an opening of his own, but you're grateful nonetheless. As long as Nicole agrees.

Her eyes flit to Brad, assessing him with the quickness of a hummingbird's wings. "Let's go then," she says as if it's a challenge, daring Brad to follow through on something unspoken. You watch them disappear, Brad's hand hovering at the small of Nicole's back as she leads them through the crowd.

Next to you, Pickles rifles through his front jean pocket. He pulls out a bag of Skittles, pours some into his hands and offers them to you. "You don't have to stay for me you know," he chirps, "I told Nico I'd drive him home so I'm here for the long run."

You shove the Skittles into your mouth, the candy sticking to your teeth. You look towards the dance floor, watching the group of men you don't know chatting up different girls and pointing them towards Nico. You fix a smile on your face for Pickles. "I'm having too much fun to leave."

Pickles nods, giving you a look that's somewhere between skepticism and pity. You sigh, letting your shoulders sag and the pit in your stomach swallow you down with its full weight before putting your hand back out for Pickles to fill with more candy. Instead you feel a warm weight in your hand. You look up to see Nico, hand wrapping around yours. "You're still here," he's beaming at you, though his eyes are so glassy you're not sure how he can even see you clearly.

"Yeah," you answer softly, wishing you could stop the smile that's spreading from cheek to cheek.

"I think you need water," Pickles says after assessing Nico's wobbly stance, excusing himself from the table. Nico's still standing over you, hand in yours. "Our dance got interrupted," he says, his signature lazy laugh chasing after his words. He starts to move to the music that's playing, eyes slowly shutting. A heavy arm slams into his shoulder, and in the startle Nico slips his hand away from yours.

"You gonna introduce me?" It's the same guy that shoved into Nico while you two were dancing. His eyes waggle towards you in a way that makes you recoil.

"Oh uh, Carmine this is--"

He interrupts before Nico can finish. "No, let me guess. Nicole, right? Or are you Amber?"

You frown. "Neither. Actually, you just missed Nicole."

"Damn!" Carmine snaps his finger. "I really wanted to see the hottie my boy won't shut up about it."

"Bro," Nico says, with what could be a glare if his eyes were alert at all.

"Nah, I mean, you're cute too, don't get me wrong. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm nobody," you answer, hastily. "And I'm leaving so…have a good night. It was nice to meet you." You stand, ignoring the hushed way Nico tries to stall you. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop his fretting. "Happy birthday, Nico." You lean in, landing a soft, barely there kiss to his cheek. Eyes glued to the exit sign, you walk as fast as you can towards it before you completely lose your composure. You even ignore Pickles when he calls your name, pretending not to hear the way he asks Nico what happened to make you run off.

You look back at the dance floor quickly, noticing Nico's red bandana bob and sway in the crowd. You leave before it gets too close. The cold air outside hits you in the face like a brick, clearing your senses and leaving you with a weird empty feeling. Like you had something in the palm of your hand but it's slipped through your fingers. You walk a few feet, until the music is no longer drumming in your ears, and lean against the wall of a closed Chinese takeout. Your hands brace against your knees and you let yourself breathe. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes but you're too drained to fight them off. You can't help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Your feelings for Nico aren't entirely a secret to anyone, certainly not to yourself, though you hope you've always held your composure well enough. You're always hiding your blushing cheeks when he flirts and batting away Nicole and Amber's teasing when they catch you smiling to yourself after leaving the kitchen. But you always held it arm's length, knowing it was all just part of the fun with Nico. It can't ever be serious with him, it just can't be.

"Y/N."

His voice is like a rasps against the wind. You brush your eyes quickly, straightening up as Nico jogs haphazardly towards you.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" he says, breathing heavy as he catches up to you.

"Sorry, yeah, I um, I didn't realize how late it was," you lie.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

You shake your head as he contemplates you. Eventually he leans against the wall next to you, pulling his vape out for a long pull, as if that's going to help him breathe any easier.

You shrug one shoulder up. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome, is all," you admit quietly, trying to escape the track of his eyes on you. His lids are heavy almost closing as he rests his head back against the wall, yet he won't take his eyes off you. "Not possible for you to do that."

"I have to go, Nico." You say gently.

"Don't." Nico says, hand finding yours again. Entwining your fingers together, Nico tugs you towards him and you oblige, leaning against your side so you're facing him. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you can feel him nuzzling against the sensitive skin there.

"Nico," you protest without any real harshness or edge to your tone. Just a sadness that you can't mask the way you normally would.

"Stay," he pleads, hand trailing down your back. "Everyone else can leave, if it means you'll stay." His words murmur against your skin. Lips press against the side of your neck so gentle you're not sure you really feel anything at all. You sigh as he moves further up, letting him land soft little kisses up your neck to the nape of your ear. He nips at your lobe and that's when you have to push him away.

"Nico," you say firmly, putting a hand against his chest to make distance. He smirks as his head lolls back against the brick wall.

"C'mon baby," his hand hooks around your wrist, thumb running gentle circles. "I know you want me."

Your heart drops, sinking into the deepest pit of your stomach. You wretch away from him. "Don't be an asshole."

Nico's bloodshot eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stumbles forward trying to cling onto you again. "No, no, no. I want it too. YOU, I mean, I want YOU too."

He's holding onto your wrists, knees slightly bent as he sways in the non-existent wind. You're afraid he's going to fall down and you won't have the strength to pick him up so you walk him back towards the wall so he can lean against it. You try to pull your hand from him but he just holds on even tighter. "It's your birthday, you're drunk and you're just trying to get laid. There's a million girls in that club that would be happy to go home with you. Please don't do this to me, Nico. It's not fair. "

"They're not you. I don't want them."

"You don't want me either!" you laugh, incredulously.

Nico's mouth drops open, eyebrows shooting straight up as if they're going to hide in his bandana. "You're all I want!" You don't know how to respond to that. You stare back towards the club hoping Pickles or Carmine or someone will appear and come take him away so you can just go home and forget this entire night happened.

"I like you SO much," Nico confesses, eyes still wide and words slurring together. "Like, I haven't even quit once since you started working. Every time I get to see you it makes all the like bullshit worth it. I know it's kinda crazy, you and me. You deserve a lot better."

All the wind knocks out of you. You try to process what Nico is saying, justify it against the way his eyes glaze over with alcohol and weed. "You're drunk," you say again, an explanation.

"Yeah," he smiles, lopsided. "No way I'd ever tell you this shit if I wasn't."

And though his eyes are barely open there's a sincerity to his words. "You know," he continues, "I've seen our future, if we like, try this. It's all good baby, just me and you forever. 'Till the four kids of course."

"Four?" you laugh,"That seems like a lot."

"Okay maybe two, and a cat named Lucy."

"I'd like a cat," you smile, leaning against him as Nico wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the stretch of his smile against your cheek as he spreads kisses across your face. He moves closer to your mouth and you can feel his lips reach out for yours. You catch his head between your palms. "Not while you're drunk," you reprimand gently.

"That's fair. I can fuck with that," Nico smiles. "Tomorrow then. I'm taking out for breakfast before our shift and I'mma kiss the shit out of you."

"Sure," you smile back. "IF you remember any of this."

"Oh, baby, I'll never forget it."

Nico grabs you, picking you up off the ground as he twirls you just slightly. You're a little afraid you're both going to fall and tumble to the ground but he makes it around a little half circle before setting you back down. You throw your arms around his neck, holding him close as he nuzzles deep against your cheek.

Your phone pings, notifying you of a text. You pull it out from your purse, swiping it open while Nico continues to nestle into you. It's from Nicole, a picture of she took of you and Nico dancing. In it you're pressed against him, face hidden in his collar as he looks down on you with an expression of pure serenity. Looking at it you can't help the butterflies that swarm within you. You hold Nico even tighter, hiding your big, wide grin against his hair.

[earthtoharlow]

Series Masterlist

Pervious Chapter

JACKHARLOWSOURCE

liked by 5,789 users

jackharlowsource: Jack posted a photo dump today and included this throwback photo with DJ Drama!

view all 7,457 comments

user: oh

user: when y/n gets a retraining order >>

user: yes just a simple throwback with dj drama no one else

user: ugly ass ghost pants

user: I’m truly a child of divorce

urbanwyatt just added to their story!

CALLHERDADDY

liked by 10,678 users

callherdaddy: Jack’s thoughts on Y/N now that he’s single again 🥹💜 catch up on last week’s episode only on Spotify

view all 689 comments

user: he dropping new music so he needs people to like him again

user: dude on apology tour 😂

user: “I love her, she knows that. I believe we’ll get back together when the time is right.” 🥹🥹🥹

user: I love y/n too, you ain’t special!!!

user: he’s acting weird so some news about to come out about Y/N

user: “she’s not even in a serious relationship right now” mind you there’s rumors of her marrying drake 😭😭😭

user: whatever helps him sleep at night

yourinsta just posted to their story!

champagnepapi added to their story!

THESHADEROOM

liked by 75,568 users

theshaderoom: Is a congratulations in order for Drake and Y/N??? A couple months ago there were rumors of the couple getting married but they were shut down by close sources but apparently things have now changed.

According to People Magazine, the pair had a private wedding in Toronto, days before Christmas. Only close friends and family were in attendance, including Y/N best friend Urban Wyatt.

#Roomies send your congratulations to the couple down below!

view all 56,789 comments

user: stop cause I’m so happy for them 🥹

user: awwwww I love that Urban was her maid of honor 😂😂😂

user: chileeeee not y/n stealing my man

user: we gotta hang Drake’s jersey up on the rafters

user: the streets just lost a real one

user: has anyone checked on Jack

user: them leaving the reception early to go get ice cream is so cute 😭

user: sending my condolences to Jack Harlow 💐

user: I love that y/n didn’t wear a traditional wedding dress!!!

BALLERALERT

liked by 6,789 users

balleralert: Jack Harlow just performed the worst halftime show performance EVER. Is the news of his ex Y/N marriage getting to him? Let us know what you think in the comments!

view all 356 comments

user: y’all told me he was the best white rapper alive?

user: embarrassing

user: Jack go get yo bitch back please I can’t handle this

user: yikes!

user: whew that y/n voodoo working overtime

user: chileee he just needs to go be a stay at home dad

***

(un)holy matrimony 💍

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO THIS AU!! Doesn’t even feel like it’s been that long!!! 🥹🫶

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @harlowsbby @neon-lights-and-glitter @toocriticalharlow @babiefries @mace23477 @snows-blog-of-fiction @dstark-0706 @itsyagirljaz @comehomeimissyou @harlowcomehome @w1ldthoughts @vinniehackersbaee @halfmoondaze @jaydaaasworld @hufflewhore128 @leftapricotprofessorlover @minkookie95 @katiaw2 @kkrenae @jackharloww @babybardi2 @plushkhiii

[mykoreanlove]

in character

🎃 happy halloween y'all 🎃

How did I end up in this club?

“Hey, y/n, lighten up. Don’t you like it here?”

Did you?

The club was narrow and over-crowded. Instead of dancing the night away, you bumped into costumed strangers every other minute. It was way too loud – the bass made your whole body vibrate, tuning out every possible thought. Bright lights were flickering and clouding your vision, making it hard to see anybody but yourself. You always hated big crowds, and you hated being pushed around and smelling strangers' odors even more, but you promised your friends to come to this Halloween party, so you faked a positive response.

“What? Of course not, I love it here. Hey, I’m gonna get some shots for us, okay?”

Your friends nodded in agreement as you turned around and made your way to the other end of the venue. Navigating through those drunken crowds was a hassle but you finally made it to the neon-lit bar. It wasn’t too crowded, but you still took your time. Anything that would let you escape the chaos in front of the DJ was highly welcomed.

As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you checked if your outfit was still in place. You chuckled at the idea of dressing up as the Powerpuff girls. Your friends took this very seriously though; they even made you do a personality quiz. You weren’t sweet and innocent like Bubbles and you weren’t confrontational and badass like Buttercup either. No, you were a leader with a brain and ego to match so they made you Blossom. Your hands checked for the essentials: the giant red bow was still in place; the wig was still clipped to your hair and the rose-colored tint still covered your full lips. You sighed in relief.

As you were trying to get the bartender’s attention once more you noticed a handsome guy approaching you. You were used to men hitting on you, but they rarely caught your attention. You were picky, yes, but you had standards and you wouldn’t waste your time on just anybody. This guy, however? He definitely piqued your interest.

„Hey, are you a Powerpuff girl?”

He was nervous – scratching his head and looking down at his hands but he was gorgeous! You always loved a handsome man, but he took it to a whole new level: full brown hair, dark shiny eyes and a gorgeous smile with a sturdy nose. You loved a man with a big nose and already started to wonder if everything about him was sturdy, too.

“I am for tonight.”

He looked at you surprised. “What will you be tomorrow then?”

You smirked, having too much fun with this. “Whatever you want me to be.”

He was surprised by your assertiveness and started laughing. His cheeks were slightly flushed as he was a bit embarrassed. You thought he was the most adorable person to ever exist.

“Damn, you are good at this. Sadly, I’m not. I’m Chris.” He stretched out his hand which was covered in silver rings to introduce himself formally. You smiled as you were shaking his hand in reply. “Y/N.”

A brief pause followed as he was too nervous to talk to you. “So, you dressed up as a wolf?” You looked him up and down – he was barely wearing anything, but you did not mind. He was built like a god – marble abs, strong arms and a lean torso. It would have been a crime to not show up half-naked.

“Ah, yes. But I’m not a regular wolf. I’m a werewolf.” He chuckled again, overplaying his nervousness.

“When the full moon strikes, I turn into an animal. Ahuuuu!” Chris imitated a wolf before turning red again and looking down, utterly embarrassed by what he just did. You couldn’t help but fall for his awkwardness – he was so shy and precious. You had never encountered a man like him before and you were highly intrigued.

You grabbed his arm and started laughing which made him ease up instantly. “I have a question about wolfs, Chris.” His eyes widened in surprise, wondering if he would embarrass himself further by not being able to answer your question.

“Can they drink?” He sighed in relief as he understood what you were up to.

“They don’t normally do”, he paused for a brief second while motioning the bartender over to you, “but when they meet a gorgeous Powerpuff girl, they surely make exceptions.”

You spent the next hour talking while downing bitter shots, completely forgetting about your friends on the dancefloor. You got along quite well – after the first couple rounds, he was relaxed enough to talk to you. You chatted about yourselves, shared some jokes and flirted heavily. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable and you wondered if he sensed it, too.

“So, are you here with your tribe?”

“Tribe?” He asked astonishedly.

“Aren’t wolves always running around in packs? Or did you come here alone?”

“Ah, no I came by myself. I’m acquainted with the DJ, and he wanted me to say hi, that’s how I ended up here. I don’t go out normally, not a fan of big crowds.”

“So, what do you do instead? Spend some time with miss wolf?”

Chris choked on his drink. “Actually, there is no miss wolf. In case you wondered.” He dodged your side playfully.

You smirked hesitantly. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, just take a look around. Every girl in here has been eyeing you for the past hour. If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now.”

Chris shrugged his broad shoulders unfazed. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. If I’m being honest, I don’t care about the other girls here. I only care about one girl right now.” He took another sip of his drink, moving to stand closer to you.

“And who is that lucky girl?”

He turned his head, facing you now. With a giant smile on his lips, he whispered: “You.”

***

You abandoned your friends and went home with him. Was that the noble thing to do? No. But you wanted him, you needed him. Leaving the club with him while every bitch was sending daggers your way fueled your ego immensely. He didn’t care about anybody but you. And you liked that. You got off it.

Chris wasn’t living too far away , so you decided to walk. A walk that would have taken you 15 minutes turned into an hour. You couldn’t stop touching each other – stopping every two minutes to kiss and grope, you acted like brainless teenager in public, but you didn’t care. Smart of him to dress up as an animal since the sexual connection between the two of you was equally feral.

“Chris” you panted into his mouth as he was kissing you once again.

“Yes, blossom?” You smirked. That cheeky fucker was into roleplay, and you would gladly play along.

“If you don’t take me home right now, I will suck your dick on the streets.” His eyes widened in desire, totally turned on by that idea.

“And we don’t want Blossom to behave like that, do we?” You batted your eye lashes at him, acting all sweet and innocent. He cleared his throat, re-composing himself instantly. He turned around, his back to you now.

“Hop on.”

“What?”

“I said hop on. Wolfie is gonna carry you to his cave. Hop on.” You gladly obliged and jumped on his broad back, placing your hands around his neck, pampering it with kisses.

“Y/N, you’re such a tease.” You sucked on his neck harder.

“Who’s y/n?” You were marking him like a dog, leaving bruises all over his soft skin. Chris practically ran to this place, breathing faster and flatter.

“Good wolfie. Don’t make Blossom wait.”

You switched from his back to the kitchen counter and sat there impatiently, while he was taking off your costume. You grabbed the bow and hair and wanted to help but he stopped you.

“No, wait”, he looked at you embarrassed again. “Can you.. Can you keep that on?”

Fuck, he was good. So shy and embarrassed, yet so kinky and horny. You wondered what else was living inside of him.

“Get on your knees.” He looked at you surprised but did as you told. Sat on the counter you crossed your long legs and observed him cautiously.

Chris was on his knees, his face right on the level of your crotch. If he wanted you to behave like a girl leader, you would treat him like a dog. You cooed at him.

“Does wolfie want a treat?” His tongue slid over his lips, anticipation clouding his whole body. You uncrossed your legs and spread them just so he could see your pink, satin thong.

“Does wolfie want this?”

He shot up, grabbing your thighs with his big hands. His lean fingers pressed into your flesh, turning the skin beneath it white. He was ready to devour you – you could see it in his eyes. His pupils grew darker, his breathing got shallower and the bulge in his pants grew bigger. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards himself, towards the edge so he could face your crotch directly. Everything about you enticed him, making him lose his mind.

He was focused on your swollen pussy in that pink thong, barely covering anything. Dark patches on the fabric informed him about your wetness, leaking for only him. Chris felt his dick twitching inside his pants. You smelled heavenly and he couldn’t wait a minute longer to eat you out. Like a dog he approached your pussy by sniffing it, rolling his eyes in pleasure. He grabbed the hem of your thong with his teeth and pulled it off slowly, granting him direct access to your throbbing core.

“Fuck”, he muttered under his breath.

You watched him excitedly doing all of this. You had him pussy-drunk before he even tasted you, let alone entered you. You wondered how far you could take this and stopped him when he was placing kisses on your pussy.

“No no, not so fast.” Chris pouted and looked at you in dismay.

“Blossom, please. I’ll do anything, please.”

He looked up at you while placing kisses on your thighs, each kiss dangerously close to your core.

“I want you to beg.” His hands squeezed your ass as he was asking you to give into him.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll beg all night if you want to. Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel good. I promise I’ll take you to new heights like no one before me had. Please.”

You grew hotter, squirming on the inside. Fuck, I want him to do that to me. All night, if possible. Look at him sitting there, batting his horny eyes at me. You want me that bad, huh? I’m gonna give it to you, baby boy. You can have your way with me.. But I will have my way with you first.

“No.” Your voice was bold, depicting your dominance beautifully. Chris watched you aroused, unknowing of what was about co come. “I want you to beg like a wolf would.”

He looked at you in surprise before grinning, totally loving this freakish role play of yours. His hands spread your legs even wider while he was licking his lips. You wanted to play the alpha? By all means, had it your way.

He took off his black pants, hence standing naked in front of you. It was hard to concentrate on anything but his throbbing cock which was pulsating for you. Hard like a rock and covered in veins for you. You gulped in excitement. He got back on his knees and looked up at you – total submission on his part. He was ready to beg, ready to be humiliated, ready to do anything for you. He kissed the insides of your thighs while making eye contact once more.

“Ahuuuuu”, he whispered in a rather deep and raspy voice. He leaned closer and kissed near your entrance, repeating the whole process.

“Ahuu”, this time shorter.

Once more he licked his lips and whispered “Ahu” before burying his head between your thighs, licking and sucking his way to heaven. Your head fell back in ecstasy, your legs shivering from all the sensations. His tongue was entering you forcefully, while his nose hit your clit in just the right way. It wouldn’t take long for you to come, and he could definitely tell. The grip of your thighs around his head hardened which made him lick you even more forcefully. You grabbed his dark hair, tugging at it, moans escaping your lips involuntarily.

“Fuck, Chris, fuck, Chris, fuuu-”

You came all over him. Chris leaned back and drank in your exquisite juices, smiling proudly like a kid on Christmas. You chuckled at his reaction, once again he was too cute for you to handle.

“Soooooo, was wolfie a good boy?” You already knew what he was up to but decided to play along.

“Yes. A very good boy. Tell me, does wolfie want a treat?” His eyes shot up in excitement once more.

“Is wolfie’s tail already wagging for me?” Chris looked down at himself, his full-blown erection giving him away.

He shied away, biting his pink lip. “I guess..”

“Come here.” He got up and positioned himself between your legs. You grabbed him by his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, tender and passionate like he was with you.

“Let me show you what a good boy you are.”

[daisynik7]

Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday. 

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

--------------------

The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying. 

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth. 

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours. 

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment. 

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children. 

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade. 

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you. 

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor. 

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol. 

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him. 

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?” 

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass. 

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.” 

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting. 

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?” 

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger. 

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all. 

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks. 

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons. 

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command. 

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg. 

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments. 

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him. 

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him. 

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth. 

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.  

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst. 

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering. 

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight. 

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock. 

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment. 

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can. 

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger. 

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips. 

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient. 

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word. 

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper. 

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. 

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath. 

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.” 

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.  

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence. 

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too. 

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal. 

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession. 

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead. 

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?” 

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke. 

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.” 

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen. 

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.  

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave. 

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.” 

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking. 

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him. 

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants. 

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food. 

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt. 

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment. 

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.” 

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud. 

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him. 

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?” 

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again. 

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already. 

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself. 

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way. 

[bteezxyewriter12]

Just Want to Play/ 1

Pairing- Mingi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.5k

Includes- Mingi has tattoos and his nails painted black, use of a sex swing, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, naked humping?, missionary (sort of), dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, tiny bit of fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Mingi Masterlist

J POV

"You good?", San asks me, smirking

I nod

As good as I can get being naked in a sex swing

Leave it to San to have kinky shit in his apartment

It's actually pretty comfy

There's a cushioned strap under my head, one under my shoulders and one under my ass

My legs are in straps, holding them wide open

Needless to say I'm completely exposed

"You're still not going to tell me who your friend is?", I ask

I met San through my best friend Mingi years ago along with the rest of Mingi's work friends who became my friend group too

San's a bouncer at a club, along with Mingi, Jongho and Yunho

Hongjoong owns the club, Seonghwa is a DJ, Yeosang and Wooyoung bartenders

And all of Mingi's friends are ridiculously good looking

San and I started fucking around last year

Nothing serious, just casual sex

A friends with benefits

No one knew about it until three months ago when we were caught fucking in the club bathroom

Now all our friends know

And apparently one of them asked San if I would be willing to fuck them

I'm so game

The catch is, whoever it is didn't want me to know it's them until the day it was going to happen

I still have the choice to say no when I see who it is but honestly I'm not

I'm going to do it

"Nope. You'll see who it is in a few minutes"

San suggested the sex swing and both me and whoever it is agreed

I've never been in one before and I'm willing to try almost anything once

I decided to test it out before the guy comes to see if it's comfortable

"Ok", I say, "Push me"

He raises his eyebrow

"It's a swing!", I reason, "Push me"

He chuckles, his hand moving to my ass and pushes me

I look at the ceiling as the swing moves back and forth, giggling

"You're nuts", San laughs

"Maybe but it's fun"

The swinging is dying off when San's phone goes off

"He's here", San says

Shit, ok

San helps me get my legs out of the straps but I stay on the rest of the swing, my feet on the floor, my legs closed

For now

"I'll see you later", San says

I say bye to San, hearing him open the door to his apartment

The door closes and footsteps approach San's living room where I am

A guy walks in and my eyes widen when I see who it is

What the fuck?

"Mingi?", I gape

"Yeah", he says, his eyes darting between me and the wall

Ok, this I did not expect

Not in the slightest

"You ...you want ...this?"

He nods, his cheeks so red, "Yeah. You uh...you could say no. I'd never force you to do anything"

Of course I know that

This is Mingi, my best friend

I know he'd never hurt me

That's not even a question

"Do...do you want to say no?"

I can say I have never thought of Mingi this way

He's always just been my big dorky best friend

I'm not blind I know he's gorgeous

He's got the whole emo thing going on with his black hair, the dark eyeshadow he wears, the black painted nails

The neck, face and hand tattoos, the eyebrow and nose piercing

The bad boy aura that people would laugh at if they knew how cuddly, sweet and goofy he really is

Yeah he's beautiful but I just didn't see him that way

But, looking at him now, I can see how hot he is

And if I'm honest, I'm curious to see what's under his shirt and in his pants

Mingi is tall and big

I wanna see if his dick matches

"No, I'm not saying no"

His eyes widen but he nods, "Ok"

"Help me into the swing?", I ask, looking at him, then glancing up at the leg straps

He swallows hard, nodding, coming over to me

"My legs go in those", I tell him, pointing

"Uh..yeah"

Leaning back on the other straps, I lift one leg up

He takes my leg by my ankle and gently pulls the strap down, getting it over my foot and down to the middle of my thigh

Then he helps with my other leg, leaving pussy out on display

His eyes trail down but then looking back up before he looks at my pussy

It's so cute how nervous he is

"You can look Mingi", I tell him, "After all, I'm all for you tonight"

He makes a choking sound but his eyes snap down to my cunt

"Fuck", he whispers, his gaze moving from my pussy, trailing up to my boobs then my face, "You're so pretty"

Not gonna lie, I like that

I like the attention he's giving me

I like that he's wanted to fuck me for, it seems, awhile

And I'm turned on

"Mingi", I call, his eyes moving to mine, "Touch me"

I'm craving his touch

His hands touch my thighs, slowly moving them, his palms so warm, feeling so good

He skips touching my cunt, instead dragging his hands along the sides of my body, then wrapping around my boobs

He squeezes softly, his breathing increasing

He's still being shy, unsure and I want him to be comfortable

When his thumbs run over my nipple, I moan, a zap of pleasure running down to my pussy

"Mmm Mingi"

"Oh god", he murmurs, now pinching my nipples gently

Fuck, it feels good, turning me on and making me wet

His hands move back down my body, his fingers leaving fire on every part of my skin

He squeezes my thighs, his gaze on my pussy again, biting his lip

"Why did you want to do this with me Mingi?", I ask, genuinely curious

Does he just want to fuck me after he found out about me and San?

Or did he want this before that?

"Mingi?", I ask when he doesn't answer

"Just wanted to play with a pretty little hole", he murmurs, finally rubbing his fingers up my pussy, my body shivering, "Wanted it to be your pretty little hole"

God, that's fucking hot

"You can play with me Mingi", I urge him, "I want you to"

"Fuck Jo", he mutters, his thumb running over my clit, "So wet"

"For you Mingi", I tell him

He lets out a groan, his thumb rubbing my clit faster, my pussy getting so wet, pleasure filling my body

I watch him kneel down, my heart racing

When his lips press a kiss to my pussy, I moan softly, wanting him to keep going

I get what I want when his tongue slides up my cunt, sending my body into bliss

"Fuck, tastes so good", he moans into my pussy, his tongue rapidly licking up and down

"Oh fuck, Mingi", I cry, moving one of my hands down, snaking in his hair

His arms move around my thighs, holding on to them as he eats my pussy like he's so fucking hungry

Every touch of his tongue is incredible, from the way the flat of it pushes through my pussy lips to the way the tip circles my hole

I swear I haven't been this wet from oral before

His tongue slides in my hole, making me gasp, my pussy clenching hard around it

"Mmmm", he groans, pulling his tongue out, then wiggling back in

At the same time, his thumb circles my clit gently, sending more pleasure through me

I lift my head, watching the utterly hot sight of my best friend on his knees, tongue fucking my pussy and looking like he's totally content to stay there forever

It's fucking surreal

Every movement of his tongue, of his fingers drive me insane, bringing me right there

"Mingi...Mingi, oh god", I cry, coming at the next thrust of his tongue

Intense bliss washes over me as my pussy pulses around his tongue, his loud moan echoing in the room

I watch him swallow over and over, getting even more turned on than before

I just came and I want to again, he's that fucking skillful

"You taste so fucking good", he murmurs, his tongue sliding up out of my cunt, the tip flicking my clit

Stars burst in my vision from that one move, making me cry out in pleasure

His tongue flies over my clit, licking using every part of his tongue

"Mingi", I cry, trying to move my hips to fuck his face but I'm not succeeding so well in this swing

"Fuck, your clit is so little", he murmurs, tongue swiping again and again, "Throbs so hard"

"Mmm hmm", I whimpers, lost in the pleasure

Mingi's mouth wraps around my clit and sucks, the pleasure amping up and taking over

"Yes Mingi", I moan, his mouth moving so fast as he sucks on me, "Yes baby fuck. Don't stop"

I move my gaze down, watching his jaw jump and clench as he sucks, the sight so fucking hot

"Please cum for me", he murmurs between tugs, playing hard, "Please, wanna taste you again"

"Yeah fuck. Gonna cum on your face baby", I yell

His finger dig into my skin, giving me another harsh suck, throwing me head first into an intense orgasm

I scream his name, my entire body shaking uncontrollably as bliss crashes over me in waves

He doesn't let go, sucking me through it, his mouth amazing

When I finish, his tongue is right by my hole again, licking and sucking, cleaning my pussy until he moves away

He looks up at me and I feel my face heat up at the sight of his wet, messy face

He smiles softly, then stands up

"Take off your clothes Mingi", I tell him, wanting to see him naked

Dying to see him naked

He hesitantly pulls his shirt off, letting it go onto the floor

I gape taking in the site of his strong muscular chest and the abs carved into his skin

His shoulders are broad and his arms muscular

The two tattooed dragons on the skin of his chest, the left sleeve tattoo are so bright, so colorful against his skin

My best friend is fucking hot

His face turns pink as he pulls his sweatpants down, followed by his boxers

I get an eyeful of his massive monster cock, choking on air

Seems his dick does match his size

In length and thickness

I don't know how that's going to fit inside me but fuck I'm gonna take it

And take all of it

"Fuck Mingi. You're beautiful", I tell him, his face flushing even more, a shy look on his face

"Not beautiful like you"

Now I feel myself blushing too, "Thanks Mingi"

"Yeah Jo", he says softly, coming closer to me, "Can I play?"

I nod, "Yeah baby. You can"

Her grips his cock, bringing it to my pussy, rubbing it along my cunt

My body trembles feeling how heavy his cock is, wanting it buried so deep inside me

His length slides between my pussy lips, his head rubbing against my clit

My thighs shake as he slowly moves his hips, stroking my pussy with his cock

"I can feel your clit throbbing against my head", he murmurs, "Feels good"

His hands slide up my body, around my boobs, his palms against my nipples as he keeps moving

"Does it feel good for you?", he asks and I nod my head immediately

"Yes, fuck, don't stop"

I can't believe I'm gonna cum again but I feel it building with each side of his fat head against my clit

My pussy clenches on nothing, wanting to be filled with cock right now

But I know I can't rush Mingi

He's still so shy and hesitant even though I'm sure I assured him I want him

I mean I screamed his name so many times and asked him not to stop

I think I made myself clear

I move my hands around his wrists, holding on as I get closer

I pant from the pleasure, wishing I could move my hips to help speed my orgasm along

But I guess the point of a swing is for the guy to have control

"Please baby", I groan, "Faster"

He listens, his hips moving faster, another orgasm overtaking me, my eyes closing

"Yes", I whimper, his cock rubbing me as I cum, pleasure washing over me

I feel his cock move, slipping down, his head at my hole

I open my eyes to see him staring at where we meet

"Gonna stretch you out on my cock now", he murmurs, pushing in, his fingers playing with my clit, "Stretch my best friend's cunt on my cock. Fill my best friend's cunt right up"

I can't explain the utter pleasure I feel as his cock goes inside me, pushing and spreading my cunt apart, his length so fucking hard

Each flick of his finger makes me water his cock, taking him in easier

He's so fucking big I can feel every inch, every ridge, every part of him

"Mmm fuck, look at this beautiful hole splitting open on my cock", he murmurs, his eyes on us as his length slowly moves in, my back arching as I moan like a porn star

It's so fucking erotic how he's so into getting his cock inside me

Like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen

"So tight, so very tight", he groans, continuing to sink into me, "Nice and warm. Fuck, throbbing around my cock. Sucking on my cock"

He's not wrong, my pussy sucking him in with every inch

I just want him all inside

His dick rubs all the right spots as he inches in, his fingers pinching and playing with my clit faster

"Almost baby", he murmurs, "Just a little more. Fuck, look at your hole straining around my dick. Fuck so pretty. Gonna bury so deep inside you, you'll feel me in your tummy"

For someone who's shy, Mingi sure knows how to do the dirty talk thing really well

I'm completely turned on

His head brushes against my spot, ecstasy blasting in my body as I cry out

"Mm so close baby", he says, continuing to shove his cock in, his head moving more and more against that spot

I can't, it's so much pleasure, I can't

"Mingi", I shout, coming around his cock as he murmurs, "There, all in baby"

My pussy squeezes his cock hard, feeling so good to finally cum on such a fat stiff dick

"Oh baby, feels so fucking good", he groans, his hands moving to my hips, holding me on his length, "Mmm you came already. Does that mean my cock is good for you?"

"Yes!", I cry, delirious with pleasure, with want, "Fuck me Mingi. Please, fuck me"

He slowly pulls out, every inch dragging blissfully through my clenching pussy

He keeps his head in, then again slowly sinks his entire cock into me, spreading me open so pleasurably, his head hitting my spot

He stuffs me over the brim, no room to spare and I love feeling full of him

He continues to move, fucking into me slowly but going so deep, hitting spots, touching places no one ever has

His gaze stays on where we meet, an intense look on his face as he watches my hole take him

"Like what you see?", I ask breathlessly

He nods, "Love seeing your pussy swallow my cock. Didn't know this tiny cunt was so creamy"

Oh I knew

San is always commenting on it

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah. I like it a lot", he murmurs sliding his cock in again and again

"Good baby. I'll cream up your cock so good. Make a mess all over you"

He moans, moving a touch faster

I can see him holding back, it's in his body, in his face and it's not what I want

"Mingi", I murmur, "Don't hold back"

His eyes snap to mine, desire and lust growing

"I can take it. I'm taking your cock so good right?"

He bites his lip nodding

"Don't hold back baby. Fuck me how you want"

I can see the restrictions he's putting on himself so close to snapping

"I want it Mingi", I say clearly, "I want you"

"Fuck", he groans, pulling his cock back, the drag of it through my pussy so fucking acute

"Please baby", I beg, wanting him to rail me into next week

His hands tighten their grip on my hips, snapping his hips and burying his cock to the hilt in one go, his head smashing my spot

"Fuck!", we both cry, his hips starting to move like lighting

Fast, hard, so deep I feel him in my stomach

Oh my fucking god, it feels so good

"Yes yes", he grunts, shoving his cock in at a speed I didn't think possible, "Fuck, so good. So fucking good"

The sound of his skin hitting mine becomes louder and louder the harder he fucks me, a sheen of sweat forming on his skin, his hair getting wet too

He's never looked so fucking hot

"Pretty little pussy", he growls, "Wrecking it on my cock. Gonna fuck you wide open. Make you cum around my dick over and over until your pussy is numb"

I can't think, each hit of his cock to my spot emptying my head, my hands gripping the straps of the swing so tightly it hurts, my body soaked in sweat and I'm so fucking hot

"Tiny pussy takes my whole cock", he groans, "Nobody can take my cock. No pussy but yours"

"I can take you baby, fuck, Mingi, fuck me harder", I sob, tears falling down my face from the utter ecstasy

Every cell is awake and in bliss, my body shaking uncontrollably as Mingi gives me the best sex of my life

"Pussy so tight. Crushing my cock. Gonna cum for me?"

"Yes!", I shout, "Yes, yes!"

He snaps his hips against and white light blinds me as I'm catapulted into a mind shattering orgasm

I don't know if I'm screaming or which way is up

I don't know anything, all sound and sight cut off

All I know is that Mingi's cock is fucking me though my orgasm, begging my pussy to keep squirting on his dick

When I come back, he's pulling me down his cock as he thrusts, the squelching noise of my wet cunt taking him so fucking loud

I open my eyes I didn't know I closed, the sight of a completely sweaty Mingi fucking into me filling my vision

His hair is dripping wet, drops falling on my thighs as he moves, his abs so tight, arms gripping my hips so hard the veins are popping up

And I'm just taking it like a rag doll, my mind in the clouds, completely shutting down

The only thing I can do is feel the ecstasy he's giving me

"I'm gonna cum in this little cunt", he murmurs, "Fill you up. Fuck want to fill you up so bad"

I don't even know if I'm answering him with words or just sounds

All I know is I'm close again and I think this impending orgasm is going to completely knock me out

"Fuck, fuck, fuck Joanne! Fuck!", he yells, burying to the hilt, his cock throbbing so hard I can feel everything

His warm cum filling me sets me off and I climax around his perfect cock one last time, feeling like my soul is leaving my body

"Yes, milk my cock baby", he grunts, "Oh god yes. Suck all my cum in that pretty cunt"

I do just that, both of us just riding out our pleasure together

After, he pulls out and I feel his load leak out of my pussy but I can't fucking move

"Shit", he murmurs, "Hold on Jo"

Sure

Yeah, ok

Not like I could move anyway

Mingi comes back and I feel him cleaning up my pussy, wiping all the cum away

"Jo?", he says hesitantly, "Are...are you ok?"

"Mmm hmmm", I answer

I'm more than ok

I'm completely fucked out and on cloud nine

"Do you need help getting out of the swing?"

I nod

"Ok"

He pulls the straps off my legs, my legs screaming in pain as he closes them

God I'm so fucking sore and it's going to hurt so much tomorrow but I'm strangely good with that

"Can you carry me to San's bed?", I ask him, "I need to lay down"

"Sure", he says quietly

His arms lift me up and I lay my head on his chest as he carries me to San's room

I feel San's soft bed under me as Mingi places me on it

"I uh..should go", he mumbles

"No", I murmur sleepily, taking his hand, "Stay with me. I don't know when San is coming back. I want you to stay with me"

"Oh, uh yeah. Ok", he answers

He slides in the bed next to me, his warm body against mine

I turn to him, cuddling against him, on the verge of passing out

The last thing I feel is Mingi's arm moving around me, his skin against mine and his fingers running in my hair

Then I fall fast asleep

[breeistired]

J.M with goth reader hc's

Warnings: Reader is female, suggestive content (its JJ, come on-), witchcraft, pogues macking on each other

Tropes: Sunshinexgrumpy, opposites attract, poguexpogue,

Bree rants: I really want to write this as a whole oneshot, so if you like these head-cannons, please give me some feedback on if you want more oneshots with goth reader. ALSO, read-a-thon is tomorrow, so go check it out, its pinned! I do also take requests, but if you do request something, please be patient, I have a busy life and I am a new writer. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, I AM ADDING THIS TO ALL POSTS, AND IF I FORGOT IT @brokenwingsgalore WILL PUT IT IN THE COMMENTS. IF YOU DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ IT!!!! Thank you! I love you and make good choices kiddo.

(still dont know how to make aesthetic boarder things.)

JJ! Meeting goth reader at a beach party. Only noticing her because she stood out. The only one wearing a black dress that went to her ankles, dark hair with specs of purple in it, holding a red solo cup filled with some non-alcoholic drink. The rest wearing short dresses or bikini's.

JJ! Noticing how reader groans and rolls her eyes at the music playing.

JJ! Nudging John B, pointing at goth reader, telling him how he thinks you're cool.

JJ! Then telling Sarah to get her man to stop being a dick. Goth reader wouldn't have a clue about this.

JJ! Walking to goth reader, getting shy and nervous as she reapplies her black lipstick.

JJ! Basically recreating the scene in Scott Pilgrim Vs the world where he first meets Ramona. "So, do you like parties?" JJ says, ending his sentence with a shaky breath. Goth reader sighs and simply says a deadpanned no. JJ quickly says me too, despite loving them. Goth reader gives them an awkward smile, not knowing what to do with this golden retriever of a man beside her. JJ slowly and embarrassingly leaves.

JJ! Who comes back to the pogues telling them what happened, letting them make fun of him.

JJ! Who sees goth reader come back to him because her friend told her she needs to socialize. JJ who is ecstatic, while goth reader is awkwardly waving.

JJ! Who rapidly takes goth reader away from his friends before they can embarrass him

JJ! who talks to you and slowly you get out of your shell. Telling him how you hate parties, and hate the music, eventually telling him you liked rock music, as if it wasn't obvious.

JJ! Who tells goth reader he has to go to the bathroom. When in a reality he's forcing the DJ to play the music you like so he can dance with you.

JJ! Who comes back and acts surprised when Metallica, All American Rejects, System of down, My chemical romance, and so on plays.

JJ! Who gets you to dance and has the best night of his life with goth reader.

JJ! Who gets goth readers number at the end of the night, setting up a date with you.

JJ! Who takes goth reader to an old creepy bookstore and buys all the books she looks at with a small amount of money in his pocket. And at the end, they watch the sunset while having a picnic.

JJ! Who falls in love with goth reader after a week of dating because she's the opposite of him. He says, "Its boring when people are like me, the conversations are as bland as John B's cooking." When deep down its because she brings balance to his life.

JJ! Who makes goth reader sleepover at the chateau because he sleeps better when she's there.

JJ! Who lets goth reader do all the witchy stuff to him. Whatever makes his doll happy right?

JJ! Who lets goth reader sage his dick because "too many girls with negative energy have been on it."

JJ! Who lets goth reader put crystals and incense all over the chateau.

JJ! Who is so so so in love with goth reader and loves their differences.

JJ! Who brags to John B about goth reader, because she's into freaky things during bed. (She asked him to put healing wax on her back and he took it as sex.)

(STILL DONT KNOW HPW TO USE THOSE AESTHETIC BOARDERS)

[angelagiarratana]

Anon Writes 1

You’re at a Smosh meet and greet at a con and when you and Angela lock eyes there’s just something™️ there. Later you’re on the con floor and you’re not really paying attention to where you’re walking, too busy looking at all the cool merch in the booths. You walk right into Angela. You basically become a stuttering mess. She flirts and you walk away with her number (ooorrrrr you walk with her to the nearest bathroom 😉)

Vidcon was something you both loved 

Angela came into the living room carrying Spork wearing her Vidcon hoodie. You paused the show and looked at her in the kitchen cooing at Spork. “I like your hoodie.” She looked at you, “Hm I wonder why?”

Some people from Smosh were over for a game night and Angela insisted on bringing Spork to play. Courtney put her phone down, "Wait is Y/n the girl from vidcon you wouldn't shut up about all week?" Angela scoffed, "Why would you expose me like that!" Shayne laughed loudly. Keith demanded, "Okay now I need to hear this story."

 ------

“Have a good day!” You told the guy who just bought a t-shirt from you at Vidcon. The floor was packed with people from different fandoms trying to get to their creators before they sold out of what they wanted. A couple people who didn’t know of your work stopped by, the sticker table catching their attention. You weren’t paying any mind to it until you heard a laugh that was too familiar to you. You turned around to see Angela and a few of the others from Smosh at the table next to yours. The panic set in when she looked at you and you made eye contact. Her face lit up, “Oh my god! Y/n! I love your work!” Your face started burning, you knew you got some traction but Smosh knowing you existed? You were a fangirl at heart. “Hi! I also love your work. Huge Smosh fan.” She approached your table and set her full attention on you. Angela was transfixed by your features. The way your cheeks moved when you smile, how your eyes lit up when you talked about your upcoming projects. 

The 10 minute conversation felt like 10 seconds. Amanda walked over and grabbed her arm, “Hate to interrupt but we have a panel to get to.” Angela frowned, “Can I get your number or something so we can talk again this week?” Your heart stopped and you had to take a calming breath, “Of course, just text me!” She left you with the promise of getting drinks one night. The next night, your sitting at the hotel bar waiting for your friends to come down to walk to the party. Your phone buzzed on the bar and you set your glass down. 

Angela 

Going to the party?

Your cheeks lit up bright red. You picked up your phone and shot her back a text,

Yeah! I’m waiting for some friends to walk over together, be there soon

Angela

See you then pretty girl 

Time frozen, and before you could fully process it your friends came around the corner. You were pulled from your seat and dragged out the door, still speechless. It was a bold move from her end. Unless she saw right through you, she had no way of knowing what your feelings or intentions were. You mind raced as the elevator doors to the roof opened and flashing lights caught your attention. After a shot of liquid courage and a song belted with your friends, you opened your phone, 

Hey, I’m here. Are you here yet? 

Angela

One sec, I think I see you, don’t move

You looked around hoping to find her too. Faces you recognized, random influencer, DJ, Chanse, Angela, your friends, wait. You snapped your head back around to see her waving at you, dodging and weaving through the crowd. She was more dressed up than usual, but still in her dirty white shoes. When she reached you her mouth fell open, “You look amazing.” You smiled and thanked her, “You also look fantastic.” You didn’t hesitate to check her out, but regretted it when you met her eyes, a knowing look on her face. “Do you want another drink?” You simply nodded and grabbed her arm, making her slightly chuckle. 

A few more drinks in and the drinks have been long forgotten as you and Angela sat in a corner of the room on a couch, side by side, but face to face. Your legs thrown over hers. The corner was quiet enough to hear each other without others hearing. Angela swirled her glass of a watered-down vodka tonic, her attention fully on you, once again astonished at you. Angela could barely feel her legs but she wouldn’t dare say a word. “Actually moved to L.A. alone and just figured it out as I went. I had a plan but no real way to make it happen. I met a guy at a coffee shop because I complimented his mug and he gave me my first permanent job here.” Angela was awestruck, “That’s fucking awesome. That’s like the most Indie movie moment I have ever heard.” She put her hand on your knee, squeezing it. A jolt ran through you. Angela noticed how your breathing changed and you couldn’t look at her. “What’s so interesting over there beautiful?” She was laying it on THICK and you loved every second of it. 

“I really think that smaller theatre production companies make some of the best work and it rarely gets any recognition purely because of the lack of A-list cast members-“ “Hey Ang!” Chanse yelled as he jogged/drunkenly stumbled over, “We’re all heading out and you know the rules.” Angela sighed, “Come together, leave together.” She looked at you, a genuine pout on her face. “You’re so precious.” It came out so smooth and warm, you couldn’t believe it left YOUR mouth. Angela smiled and looked down at her lap. You put your hand on hers, “Go, I would do the same. I’ll text you tomorrow?” She nodded, “Let me know when you get back?” Your turn to nod. She lifted your hands pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You moved your legs as Chanse dramatically gagged. “You fucker,” Angela stood from the couch and smacked his arm, “I’ll see you Y/n.” You waved and watched them as they danced over to the rest of the group and Courtney hugged Angela. 

You then stood looking for your own friends only to never find them. You checked their location to see them at the hotel, leaving you to walk back alone. You sighed and started back. You turned the corner into the hotel lobby and shivered from the AC. The lobby was still bustling with people drinking, playing games, filming, and getting extra pillows. As the elevator doors closed, you thanked the universe for the silence. 

------

"And that's when I found her in the elevator, by herself, tipsy. I was absolutely gut-wrenched that they left her by herself four blocks from the hotel." Angela squeezed your hand. "I remember rambling about how much I wish I had just asked her to walk with us." Courtney immediately sat up, "That is the best YouTube love story I have ever heard." Amanda raised her hand, "Yeah I agree. That was straight romcom." Courtney hugged Amanda and they dramatically cried. You chuckled at them. "No that's just fanfiction." Spencer chimed in, "I would know, I did the research for fanfic theatre." The group chuckled and Angela looked at you. 3 months later and she can’t focus when she looks at you.

[lightsoutletsgo]

Hey there! Could I request maybe two ships? And I would mind a little nsfw too anyways here’s a little bit about me

I’m studying international business

My favorite food is pasta cause im very picky

My friends usually say I’m sarcastic, funny, very honest and loyal, and just chill to be around

I really like going out but the music must be good and it’s gotta be with my friends

But I also like staying in having a movie or board game night

I don’t know exactly what I look for in a partner but maybe someone who is playful and that I can call a best friend too

My emoji is 🎆

ahhh tysm! this one was so fun to write hehe happy reading! mimi 🤍

LANDO NORRIS ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - always calls you love or baby - he loves your sense of humour and the way you smile at his jokes - his love language with you is quality time - he appreciates the way that you've gotten him invested in movies and whenever he gets offered tickets to movie related events like premieres he takes them just so he can take you!

lando is always asking you if travelling round the world with him can count as the "international" part of your degree. poor baby doesn't understand, he just misses you too much when he's away. absolutely loves a night out with you! and when he was dj-ing he would always play all your favourites, just to watch you and your friends sing along on the dance floor.

loves how sarcastic and funny you can be (even if he doesn't always get it at first) and thinks that conversations between you and oscar are hilarious. he learns to make good pasta just for you and loves being able to take care of you like how you take care of him!

goes all out for movie nights and will persuade you to build the cosiest pillow fort with him. he has one of those big screens and a projector and the two of you will spend all evening cuddling and watching all your favourite movies. he always takes you to the store first to pick your perfect movie night snacks. (however sometimes movie nights take a turn because he gets to distracted with how soft and cosy your thighs are...)

"here you go baby." you watched from your cosy pillow pile as lando carried in a huge tray filled with little dishes of your favourite snacks and dips. taking it from him, you settled it down in the gap between the two of you, "thank you honey." "so what are we watching?" lando stretched his back before throwing a blanket over your lap and tucking you in even more, "what's left to go on our list for this month?" grabbing his phone to check, lando opened up the arm nearest you as a silent invitation for you to cuddle, "I'm not sure love, let me take a look..."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

CARLOS SAINZ ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - always calls you mi corazón or amor - loves your collarbones and your shoulders. he'll press kisses there when you least expect it just to watch how you shiver - his love language is acts of service - carlos loves to do things for you, like run you baths after a long day or cook your favourite meal just because.

carlos loves surprising you with flowers whenever he can, just for the way it makes your smile light up. He would definitely call you his best friend! you're his rock whether he's had a good or a bad weekend. he values your advice and the fact he can come to you to rant or ramble about anything. carlos loves how fiercely loyal you are to him and to your friends.

he's a sucker for feeling your hands in his hair... whether it's during cuddles or when his head is between your legs. he proudly wears your scratch marks and loves seeing the sweet marks you leave on his hips. he loves cooking with you in the kitchen. you sitting on the island or the counter and picking what song plays next while he makes you pasta. of course he will dance his way over to you just to steal a kiss between steps in the recipe and while he's waiting for something to boil or simmer or cook, he's tugging you down gently and pulling you in to slow dance with him round the kitchen.

he does his best to help you study, whether it's testing you, reading essays or just reminding you to take breaks and refilling your water so you don't forget. "amor?" you rub your eyes, blinking to try and force the sore, dry feeling away, "amor?" carlos presses again, his hand rubbing your arm as he slides onto the couch next to you, "here's your water." he places your re-filled cup onto the coffee table and kisses your head, "need a hand?" you shake your head and lean into him, finally allowing your eyes to close, "I'm done for the day." you sigh and he wraps an arm around you, "good job mi corazón, I'm so proud of you!" you hum happily before he's gently pulling you to your feet and leading you to the bathroom where a hot bath has been run for you. complete with bubbles and your favourite face mask and book on the bath tray. carlos kisses the back of your neck as he hugs you from behind, "you, are going to relax," he kisses you again, "while I make dinner." you turn in his arms and kiss his lips, hands sliding underneath the hem of his t-shirt to gently scratch at his hips, "join me... dinner can wait..." he groans against your lips, making you giggle, "if you insist amor..."

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

quick little drabble based on @famkoe's prompt: the chief has reluctantly approved an undercover mission starring lassiter. Lassiter is determend to show how great he is at this. Shawn is Just confused about why lassie Just walked into his favourite gay bar.(shassie)

Sean was two drinks in on the dance floor. His shirt had mysteriously unbuttoned itself and the DJ was halfway through [music]. And the edges of his world were starting to get fuzzy just the way he likes them.

gus had refused to come tonight on account of "there are never any girls at that place"to which Sean pointed out

"Gus, don't be a limp piece of confetti in the morning after a birthday party. that's the point buddy. no girls just men. And some boys. A fair few lads as well. Come on. We see girls all the time. "

unfortunately, Sean had lost that argument, and so it was forced to face the gay club alone. :(. he was working to rectify that situation, settling up to a taller man With an umbrella in his cup, when something caught Sean's eye.

He tilted his head and squinted – inwardly smiling at what Gus's reaction would've been – and focused on the shoes he could just make out from behind a throng of people across the bar.

he recognized those dark brown men's casual loafers from somewhere. Flipping for his memory, he realized they were the same shoes Lassie have been wearing that day at the police station.

Sean abruptly left the conversation he had been half paying attention to holding up a finger in the direction of tight pants. he hurried over to the crowd of people and yes. It was detective Carlton Lassiter.

well, Carlton Lassiter yes. Detective? Sean had never seen a detective wearing nothing but a tight green mesh top and Jean shorts with a bandanna in both back pockets. Lassie's back was pressed up against a bar, overwhelmed by the five men all crowding around him, trying to buy him drinks. Sean grabbed his elbow and said loudly "come on Ted. Let's get you home. " And turn it to the nearest bathroom.

when they reached the men's room shawn pulled carlton through the door as 2 other men stumbled out, far more inebriated that shawn was.

"spencer what the hell are you doing here? i won't have you blowing my cover just because the chief wouldn't put you on the bone street case." lassie hissed at him while checking under the stall doors for eves-droppers

"bone street? blow your cover? lassie i was just dancing when i saw those horrible shoes, i mean, seriously man, who wears boat shoes to a night out? don't answer that i have a better question, how did it work?? those twinks were crawling all over you maybe i should dress like it's my uncle's wedding next time"

"they're not boat shoes spencer they're men's casual shoes. they go with any outfit even..." lassiter looked down and looped a finger around a black and gold string of his shirt "this thing" he finished

shawn looked down at the taller man's shirt, unable to stop staring at the waves of salt and pepper hair tangled in the tight garment

"shawn!" he yelled. shawn looked up, getting the feeling his name had been said several times.

just then a knock came at the door and the two made eye contact, lassiter determined and shawn mischievous.

before the detective could say anything shawn said

"lassie do you trust me?"

"no."

"well, you can't be hiding a gun in those shorts and we're on my turf so just follow my lead" he said quickly as the door handle turned

"i- what? sha-" lassiter spluttered as shawn stood on his tiptoes to meet his lips

as their mouths touched shawn pushed him to the wall, one hand up by his face, pinning him in and the other slipped underneath the waistband of the jean shorts by carlton's hip.

shawn broke the kiss for a split second as the door was opening to hiss "hands on my ass big boy"

carlton complied, not entirely sure if he liked being called a big boy but the zing that went through his body as he awkwardly grabbed shawn's but was undeniable.

through the rushing in his ears lassiter could hear a quiet chuckle from the door way and a man say "i'll just use the ladies' then" before the door closed

expecting shawn to stop he put his hands down, but instead shawn's teeth moved lower to meet his ear. in a moment he would deny later, carlton closed his eyes, waiting for shawn to kiss his neck, but instead shawn whispered in a jovial and seductive tone "by the way, ted, the guy in the with the orange shirt who was trying to buy you a whiskey killed that girl two weeks ago. you might want to bring him in for questioning" before walking out the door and back onto the dance floor, leaving carlton reeling

[fuckentoastybitch]

TOXIC_RAP.mp3

All the bros have had a go on this flow

So I thought, no, it's my turn

I'm gonna give someone a chance to strike a pose

On this beat like Jojo's

God only knows when this beat feels right

Oh, but it still goes hype when played at night

And now I could cut the tension with a knife

Bottle of absinthe on the shelf

Take a sip. Or twelve

Slip into alcoholic dove and fill the slick and shit

Let's drink till our blood levels turn toxic

Bust out the Bacardi and rum

Drink shots to the sound of a starting gun

Slam drinks back a little hardy and run

What bar should we start at for fun?

So here we are, back again

Will this guy put down his pen?

I have a phone. It's terminology

2023, we have the technology with the new LP

Us boys are all running free

Who the fuck are we meant to be?

A man who's on a legacy?

So I'll make this easy

Nice and speedy

No drinks here with antifreeze

No drinks to sneeze at

Only squeeze in my glass, please

Till I feel queasy

Shot, shot, shot, shot

Cans and bottles, that's your lot

Drink till you lost the plot. Brain rot

Drink till the fives out of ten look hot

Give her the sex, don't call me a miser

She drinks apple cider, came inside her (note: FUCKING WILD)

Back in the room making noise

For gangs of people who enjoys

Acting like tough men, one of the boys

Whilst packing heat at the treat like toys

Arrive on the scene with my team

Looking mean

stacks of green

Feeling preen

We careen to the bar

Smooth like a dream

Dressed up smarter, cash pro rata

Back to the tinnies, crack her lager

Make some bread, not stored in a larder

Spend on brands, devil wears Prada

Committing sins, corporate greed

Take lunch money, mouse to feed

Pop a lock, finally freed

Fuck the lager, grab the mead

Downing honey, busy bees

Send that bottle, what a breeze

Twenty percent proof I'm on my knees

I think I'll try another bottle of that, please

So give me the vodka, that's not what I meant

But a label says that it's forty percent

Would've drank that until the same gents

Started kissing threes whilst pitching a tent

So moving on

Brandy next

Had two shots for the flex

Already looking round for the next

Throw that money, bounce some checks

Cards maxed out, I'm resigned

So let's see what other drinks can I find

Hey there, babe, if you're inclined

Buy me a drink if you don't mind

Rap to the beat on the edge

You see I'm making a splash like Latino heat

So lie, cheat, steal, for real

Grabbing snacks for the main meal

Hidden agenda, big reveal

Cost quite dear and I don't mean veal

Take my chances on my own

Life switched on, not monochrome

We'll take one more for monotone

One last drink before crawling home

Sorry if this topic's over the line

But I like to sit down and write some time

Take some notes

Filling some blanket back with a nice little hobby of mine

After party, rinse and repeat

Wobble around as I find my feet

Party spills onto the street

Now where the hell did I leave my seat?

[Interlude]

Search continues

Bottles fizz

It's around here somewhere

Oh there it is!

Back into it while the beat still goes

Why is it silent?

God only knows!

This song keeps you on your toes

I (should?) see the rapping to the pros

I'm going to woo with flair.

Rick, get me in there

DJ Eric, Eric, death stare

Never mind I don't care

Glare at the back of my head

Wishing the beat was dead

I'm going to invite another guy

Instead of the shit Brit with wit

Looking round for street cred

So hello. Hi.

I'm the one whose lexicon is next to none

Because I'm sitting in a quiet corner

Bouncing off the walls like Yak and Warner

From episode one on TV screens

Across the West and scream dad jokes loud from the chest

The only one in the smoking section

Using a party blow that he kept inside his vest

Objectives announced the fleece

Will this nonsense ever cease?

Feeling relief on the brand new release

Making a move so I'm off now, peace

[oneforthemunny]

bouncer!eddie who starts working at the hideout, checking ids and working the door when the city cracks down on mandatory checks. you start working as a bartender, just looking to earn some extra cash.

eddie always nods at you when you come in, giving you the slightest smile. sometimes, he'll mess with you, putting his inked hand out before you can walk in. "woah-oh-oh, there, pretty lady." he'd grin. "'m gonna need to see some identification."

you'd blush and playfully show him your id, other times- when you were feeling more confident- you'd flip him off just to see his dimples when he'd laugh.

you'd always make him test the drinks for you, when you were trying to master a new recipe. he'd squint, lips pursed in exaggerated concentration. "i dunno, sweetheart, might need another one to make up my mind." he'd wink at you.

when the patrons would get rowdy, drunkenly berating you overtimes groping, you wouldn't even have to call eddie over. he'd be hauling them out, shoving them into the sidewalks with threats to call the cops if they continued to act bad. for a skinny thing, he was strong. he'd told you he worked at the auto shop in the day, and you figured that's where the small definition in his arms and chest came- not that you were looking, of course, he was just your coworker.

you'd worked there two weeks before corroded coffin played. the stage was rented out as much as they could to bands and djs, and you usually didn't pay attention to the rotation, but you noticed tommy working the door instead of eddie tonight, rare for a weekday.

then you looked up, seeing his bare, inked arms shredding the guitar. you kept stealing glances, blushing when he'd point at you and sing some suggestive lyric. he loved to see you blush and giggle, turning away and trying to bite your smile. it had him buzzing more than the adrenaline of performing did.

after his set, him and the boys sat at the bar. you leaned over the counter, batting your eyes at him. "what can i get ya, rockstar? on me." it was eddie's turn to blush, trying to shove off gareth and jeff who teased him. he told them all about your best drinks, he'd tasted them all. he even stayed after you closed, helping you stack chairs and lock the doors with the others.

"eddie, i'm just parked right here." you laughed when he insisted on walking you out- he always did.

"still dangerous, baby." eddie would boast, chest puffing out. "hafta make sure a pretty thing like you gets home safe. lotta sick freaks out there."

you laughed, thanking him when you got to your car. he'd ask when you worked again, comparing work times, beaming when it was the next shift he did. he always looked forward to those, made sure to wear his black shirt that fitted him good so you'd linger on his chest when you'd walk by.

you'd make sure to wear a shirt a little too low-cut, so he'd try not to stare, jeans that hugged you just right so when you'd bend over to get ice, he would crane his neck from the door to look. silent flirting until he was ready to make a move.

the next shift, when you made him a closing drink- a whiskey sour he swore you'd perfected- you scratched your number on the napkin with a heart by it. eddie's face flushed, lighting up at you with excited eyes. you'd winked, continuing to wipe down the sticky wooden bar.

when he walked you to your car that night, hands shoved in his pockets so you wouldn't see them shake, he leaned up against your car when you got in. "so, you work tomorrow?" he'd ask. you shook your head and he grinned. "me neither. you want me to take you out somewhere? it'll be fun."

eddie's heart hammered in his chest, melting when you grinned. you motioned to his pocket. "you have my number," you smirked. "give me a call tomorrow. i'll give you my address."

[ohlawdthebirds]

Suit and Tie

Abby Anderson x gn! Reader

This fic was inspired by a drabble written by @toasty-melons! This one specifically.

Also, pretty sure this photo was edited by @abbystanaccount, but I could be wrong. Please correct me if I am!

You were a bit scared to approach the mirror. You weren’t sure if you’d like what you saw looking back at you, whether the suit would look as good as it did when you saw it in the store. Looking back on it, you were more than hasty in your purchase, not even bothering to check the size. But even if it didn’t look good, you had no other options. You silently cursed yourself for waiting until the last minute to find a formal outfit for Ellie and Dina’s wedding.

The original plan had been to wear a dress, sure, but as the wedding date got closer and closer, you found yourself wavering in your decision. See, the problem wasn’t wearing a dress, far from it. The problem was that you had recently found yourself leaning outside the comfort zone your wardrobe provided. Maybe it was the beautiful butches and studs your social media feeds graced you with, maybe it was your girlfriend donning a suit herself for the occasion, or maybe it was simply curiosity. Either way, the day before the wedding you rushed to your local mall and bought the first suit you saw.

The suit itself was nothing remarkable. A single-button black blazer with black slacks to match. Your dress shirt was a clean, crisp white and the tie that came with it was a skinny thing, the same midnight black as the blazer and slacks. It was simple and you’d paired it with the cutest chunky loafers you found in the depths of your closet. It was a miracle everything fit, snug yet comfortable enough to dance in once Ellie inevitably goaded the DJ into playing the entirety of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of The Moon.

You inhaled deeply, holding it for a beat before slowly pushing the air through your teeth. This would be good; things would be just fine. You stepped closer to the mirror, eyes immediately catching on the lopsided tie strung around your neck.

“Aw man, you gotta be kidding me,” You began fiddling with the tie, crossing it over itself to try and resemble something close to a Windsor knot. No matter what you tried, it kept coming loose. A quick glance at the Casio on your wrist revealed you had little more than an hour to finish up and head over to the venue. Your fingers quickened, frantic.

Heavy footfalls sounded from behind you. Your girlfriend, Abby, came into view in the mirror. You halted your tying, opting to pivot and stare at the eye candy she was.

God, you told Abby nearly everyday just how gorgeous she was (to which she would blush and scoff) but today? In a navy-blue three-piece suit, complete with brown loafers and her wire-frame glasses, your lover was something out of a sapphics wet dream. Her hair was out of its usual braid, blonde locks down and wavy at the ends. “You good, babe? Seem to be, uh, struggling with that.” Abby did a poor job of holding back a laugh.

You rolled your eyes. “Hush. I’m trying to get this tie done because we have to leave soon.”

Abby came closer, thick fingers reaching out to release the tie from your grip. “Want some help? My dad used to have me help him tie his ties when I was younger. Said it was a good skill just in case I needed to ever help out my husband or something.”

This time it was you struggling to hold back a laugh. “And now look at you. Not a husband in sight.”

Abby snorted at this, beginning to adjust the fabric and folding it over itself. “Nope, just someone I hope to make my wife someday.”

At this, you stilled. Looking up into those sky blues, you felt a smile creeping onto your lips. “Wife, huh? Well, you’re gonna have to wait until Ellie and Dina have their day, they’d kill us if you proposed during the reception.”

Abby completed the tie and straightened it around your neck, gently checking for creases and wrinkles. “I know, lovely, I know. That’s why I have an elaborate proposal planned. But you’re not gonna know when it’s happening.” At this, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh? And how do you know I don’t have a more elaborate proposal planned for you?”

Abby stepped back, smoothing down your shirt and buttoning your suit jacket. She dusted your shoulders free of lint. “You might, I wouldn’t know. I expect to be surprised, since you’re so confident in it.”

You shook your head, amused by your girlfriend’s antics. “Don’t worry, you’ll be plenty surprised. Now let’s get going, we don’t wanna miss the ceremony.”

As Abby turned to leave, you found yourself reaching out and turning your girlfriend back around.

“Wait.”

The confused furrow in Abby’s brow smoothed out once your hands began tugging across the fabric of her suit, similar to her movement on yours only moments earlier. You swept your fingers over her blazer, flicking off fabric pilling and loose threads. You slid your hands down her vest-covered chest, briefly tucking your hands into the spacious pockets and smoothing out the fabric within. Finally, you reached up and straightened her tie, making sure it laid flat down on her torso.

“There you go gorgeous. Now we’re ready to leave.”

Abby smiled at this, a soft one reserved for these more intimate moments. “Thank you, my love. Let’s go.”

On the way out the door, you found your hand drifting to your secure tie. “Your dad taught you well, babe. Maybe you can pass those skills onto Lev when he gets older.”

Abby barked out a laugh. “Absolutely, I’ll definitely do that. He’s gonna be the ring bearer in our wedding, after all.”

And off the two of you went, to celebrate your friend’s special day and begin planning one of your own.