#which funny enough is also the polite move

[mochinomnoms]

I just thought of how chaotic bodyswapping with either of the leeches would be. Especially in PTM. We have Riddle swapping with Floyd which makes Riddles dorm confused and slighty scared with such a chaotic Riddle then a Floyd trying to calm him down and trying to still manage the dorm as best as he can. Then we have … Jade. I feel like he would seem pretty normal for the most part maybe mimicing Yuu as best as he can or just being very formal and polite. Nothing for Yuu to worry about until Jade figures that thus is a perfect oppurtunity to explore the human body and what better body then his mate (i can imagine this is before they get together), i can see jade dressing up in various outfits and admiring himself in the mirror and maybe even taking a few photos or two, you know for the memories like the freak he is. Not sure if he would go farther than that but I can see Yuu worrying about the possibilities and no one believeing they are Yuu until they can prove it to ADeuce and Grim (who might be more inclined to believe it if they saw Riddle and Floyd before hand). And maybe both Jade and Floyd take this opportunity to make sure they have no rivals, flat out rejecting anyone who they may know has a crush on their mate.

sorry for this long blurb just wanted to share

-🧀

Aaaah, I get iffy about bodyswaps sometimes since they can get borderline uncomfy, but I am always down for funny stories. Especially in PTM, it's so full of potential for hijinks!

I am down for bodyswaps if it happens when everyone is aware, if that makes sense? For example, Riddle, Jade, and Yuu are all in their potions class working on their in class assignment. But as we know, Floyd likes to ditch class sometimes to go hang with Jade in his classes. It's a bonus that his Goldfishie is also there, makes for a fun time!

Maybe a bit too much fun...he's knocked over the potion the group next to them had been making. It splashed over him and Riddle, who was now steadily raising his voice, and spilled onto the floor, where you managed to slip and drag Jade with you as you grabbed on his lab coat for stability.

The two of you were now covered in the potion, you're mumbling about not having enough detergent for another load so soon, and Jade is clicking his tongue as he got up. He helped you up, gloves wet, shoes grimy, and you two made your way over to the eyewash and shower station in the corner.

Riddle follows, dragging an annoyed Floyd to the station as well so wash up, the latter complaining about not wanting to get wet. Never mind that he is already wet from the potion. It's when you and Jade are stripping your outer layers to wash up, that Floyd reaches to poke at Riddle's cheek.

A small shock of lighting bounced between them, a red one crackling over Floyd and a light teal one over Riddle. Floyd jerks away, tripping over himself and falling on his back. Riddle froze, hands out and eyes darting as he stared between Floyd and his own hands. Like he was processing something...

You're watching him, a bit scared at Riddle's sudden stillness, as Jade kneels down to Floyd murmuring to his twin as Floyd looks around disoriented.

It's when you finally ask Riddle, leaning down to try and make eye contact with him, that Riddle looks at you. He's wide-eyed, and looks a bit feral, as he shouts, “WHAT THE FUCK” at the top of his lungs (eerily similar to a certain twin) that you stumble back in surprise.

You trip, feeling Jade's arms catch you, and only have a moment to process Jade's bare hands against your skin, when an electric feeling, and gray and dark teal lighting dance across your body.

You feel your head split open, and your body feels off, like your gravity of center moved. A small body in your arms groans, shifting in your grasp, as you blink your eyes open. You don't register the person in front of you at first, though they look familiar.

Imagine your shock when their head turns to look at you and a familiar pair of eyes, just like yours, and blinks.

“...Floyd? Wait, no.” your voice sounds foreign to your ears, like a stranger speaking a different language. “That's—why is everything so tall?”

“Is this what it's like to be short? Oh whaaaat?” You snapped your head up to look at Riddle, or the person who looks like him anyways, as he twirled around, giggling. The tone of his voice was off, a lot like Floyd, as he grinned over at your little pile up, and skipped over to where Floyd was still on the ground, looking at Riddle with a horrified expression.

“Riddle leaned down, a teasing smile on is lips, as he cooed, That you in there Goldfishie?”

“...FLOYD GET OUT OF MY BODY!”

Floyd never really yelled, so hearing him was a shock to everyone scrambling around in the lab as they tried to figure out what was going on. Crewel, poor dear Divus Crewel, is so fucking tired.

Thankfully, he can whip up the remedy potion rather easily. Unfortunately, he has a very busy day with classes, and it will have to wait until later in the day. He sends a mass text to the faculty informing them of the accident, and advises that you all continue your day as normal.

“And please, for the love of all that is good in this world, let everyone else know. There's no reason to hide it, the embarrassment cannot possibly be enough that you need to pretend to be each other. Just, let your dorms know and continue as normal in each other's bodies.”

Despite this, hi jinks and pranks still ensue. Mostly initiated by Jade and Floyd, and mostly at yours and Riddle's expense. If you two notice that some of your peers, ones that were particularly soft on you and that others claimed had a crush, suddenly are avoiding you after the switch, the twins just tell you that they had to tell them off.

If the twins ask why one of their transformation potions are gone, you and Riddle better not tell them that you got curious about how being a merman felt like and didn't know how to transform back without using the potion. Unless you want to get teased about it, of course.

They'll find out regardless, and each twin with tease their respective human, asking them why they were so interested in the first place.

“Awww, is my lil Goldfishie interested in being under the sea? Don't worry, I'll make sure you're all prepped before taking ya back home with me!”

“If you wanted to know what being a mer is like, you could have asked me~ I'd be happy to make you a potion and take you to the depths with me. I have several lovely, private areas that I think you'd greatly enjoy.”

Maybe this is what you all needed to break the ice? Or maybe it just makes it thicker, I'll leave it up to you!

[medicinemane]

Piece of advice is to always thank people for bring you bad news, so long as it's bad news you need to know to do something about it

Like that's really the only context I can think of bringing bad news in, so like... feel free to ignore if they're somehow just being spiteful with it, but like if they're coming to you like "yeah, you bed turned to goop while you were out and you need to get a new one", yeah that's not the sort of thing you want to hear but you probably need to know about it so you can fix it

The reason to thank them is so that you don't accidentally take your frustration over the bad news out on them, cause if you do that you won't get bad news and that means you won't be able to make accurate decisions when you're missing key info

Always gotta reward the behavior you want people to do if you want it to keep happening

[saetoru]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[softboo]

love me, ever so gently

pairing: austin butler x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.1k

warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships

author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3

next part

part I

"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."

george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.

you huffed once more before starting the process over again.

george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.

"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.

george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.

"well, my services are done."

he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"

"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."

he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"there she is!"

you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.

~ ~

your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.

and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.

"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.

~ ~

evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.

"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."

"because you are an ass."

cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.

"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.

"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.

cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.

"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."

her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.

"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.

~ ~

when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.

she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?

but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.

"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"

you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.

"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"

you nodded.

she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.

"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.

"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."

she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.

"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."

the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.

"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.

"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."

your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

"i know disappointment when i see it."

and just like that, the elevator door closed.

~ ~

"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.

"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.

"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.

"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."

~ ~

cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.

but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.

and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.

you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.

or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.

soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.

you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.

you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.

"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.

his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.

you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.

"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."

his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.

"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.

"oh um... everything is free."

"really?"

and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.

"which ones have you read so far?"

you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.

"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.

you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.

his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.

"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.

"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.

"i'm sure."

his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.

you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.

but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.

her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.

"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"

"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"

he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.

you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.

"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."

you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.

she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.

and he couldn't even say goodbye.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

[pearlsinmyhair]

please more x reader smut with jake or miles, im starving 😭😭

wrong.

a jake sully x fem!human!reader smut fic.

warnings: smut. pnv sex. cunnilingus. overstimulation/multiple orgasms. reader is in her early twenties. daddy kink. use of pet names. squirting. size difference. virgin reader. dilf!jake sully. possibly dark content, if you squint. no beta we die like neteyam (im sorry-).

words: 2.7k

a.n.: ask and ye shall receive! this has been in the cooker for a hot minute. @eddiemunsonguitar this is also for you.

Eywa, it was so wrong. Unbelievably so. So sinful that it made you burn with embarrassment and borderline self loathing every time you weren’t burning with desire.

Desire for a man old enough to be your damn father.

It was innocent enough at first. He was just so big, and caring, and funny. And as you got older, your mind started wandering away from a silly little crush to full blown fantasies. Fantasies of him coming into your room at night, grabbing onto you and having his way with you. Practically ripping off any clothes just to ravish you until you couldn’t so much as move the next day.

And at the center of all these fantasies were none other than Toruk Makto himself. Jake Sully.

How could you be blamed? The crop of scientists, as much as you loved them, hardly sufficed when it came to what you craved in a man. Besides, not one of them would even go near you in anyway other than platonic and parental; they had practically raised you.

You were isolated and horny, with no one and nothing to take your frustration out on. And the only one other than the scientists that regularly visited was the Olo’eyktan. Who never even really looked at you, frankly.

Then again, you didn’t see him up close and personal for the first eighteen years of your life; the first half of which was spent cowering in your room or behind tech, and the second half spent admiring from a distance.

Watching with greedy eyes how his abdomen flexed when he leaned over to study Norm’s tablet, or how his thighs tensed as he crouched, or how his fingers spread when he pointed to something.

You wanted to eat him. You wanted him to eat you.

It was only the night of your twentieth birthday and after one of the female scientists told you about na’vi mating traditions that you hatched your plan.

Reassured by her statements that na’vi didn’t stick to monogamy nearly as much as the typical human did, you put on the gifted tweng and matching top you got from Kiri and Tuk as a gift, strapped your exo pack over your face, and marched into high camp with your head held high.

Jake barely knew you when he first really saw you walking the perimeter of one of the huge fires in the caves of high camp. He knew of you, from Norm and Max and their off handed comments about the spoiled princess in their mix, but he’d never seen her.

‘Spoiled’ had always been a joke- you were a kid, and you had needs that weren’t always easy for them to provide. But they did their best.

His kids had mentioned you too; Kiri was especially fond of you (“Sometimes she’s the only one who really wants to listen to my thoughts. It’s refreshing.” Kiri had snapped one night not too long ago at dinner), and Tuk thought you made a great playmate. Lo’ak had considerably less to say, mostly because you didn’t come out of the Oxygen-Pods nearly as much as Spider did, and therefore you didn’t explore with them. Neteyam had escorted you to fetch a plant for Max’s research once, and claimed you were polite.

That was the extent that he knew.

And damn, he didn’t know shit if this is what you looked like. All long legs and coy smiles and soft giggles.

It was over the instant that you introduced yourself.

You both knew it.

ִ ࣪𖦹

“Fuck, Jake please-“ you whined, wiggling and bucking your hips in an attempt to get away from his flicking tongue. His massive hands held you in place, making your body sink into the mattress of your bed within your room. The poor thing creaked with each push of his hands and movement of your lower half, and you thanked Eywa that you had requested a private living space when you had turned eighteen. You don’t think you could face anyone with apologies for the noise of your late night escapades with the olo’eyktan.

“Hush… ‘m not done.” Jake mumbled into your folds, and you had to fight the urge to kick his chest as another shot of electricity made your whole body twitch.

Two orgasms and this man still wasn’t done. He had practically ripped off your panties as soon as he was through the door, picking you up and (gently) throwing you down on the bed. How long ago was that? An hour? Two? It felt like you were melting at this point, and the slurps of Jake’s mouth on your dripping pussy made you shiver with embarrassment and overstimulation.

“Y’know what to say if you’re done, yeah?” Jake asked, pulling back just enough to make sure his words were audible. Daring to look down, you were met with the sight of strings of your cum and his saliva clinging to his jaw, his lips nearly shimmering and parted as he watched you. He brought a breathing mask to his face as he waited, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh with his unoccupied hand.

You dropped your head and with a frustrated whine, and he slapped his palm against your leg. With a yelp, you gave him an audible affirmative, restating your safe-word. Satisfied, Jake licked a broad stripe from your fluttering hole to your clit, sucking the throbbing bud into his mouth and rolling it on one of his canines. You cried out, the rush of popping sparks and burning pleasure returning.

“Just one more, sweet thing. One more and i’ll give you what you want.” he cooed, nipping your labia and tonguing your entrance.

“Need it now, Jake. Can’t take it anymore.” you nearly wheezed, huffing as you felt the coil in your gut tighten. Something was different from before, tingling just below the hot waves of pleasure rolling through your body.

Tonight, after months of eating you out and finger fucking you, Jake had finally decided to let you take his dick. Only one problem with that. Itsie bitsie, really. Nothing serious.

Just that you were a virgin. And taking a dick over twice the size of a human’s was gonna practically rip you open.

So that’s what got you here, approaching your third goddamn orgasm so maybe, just maybe, your slick would make it easier for him to slide in.

Fuck, you weren’t gonna walk for a week, dick or not.

A flood of ecstasy overwhelmed you, and you felt some kind of tingling between your legs before you were slammed back, white clouding your vision as you cried out.

When you came to and looked down once more, you watched as Jake lapped at the juices adorning your thighs and lower belly, wiping some kind of liquid from his face.

“Y’squirted, baby girl.” he hummed as he kneeled over you, picking you up and adjusting you so that your head rested against your pillows and he could rest his knees on the mattress, situating himself between your thighs.

“Prideful skxawng.” you whispered back, only to be muffled by his mouth on yours as his hands found the backs of your knees.

He pulled back, looked down at you with worried eyes as his gaze traveled between your bodies back up to your face. “You’re sure you want this? It’s not gonna be easy, or painless.”

You shifted up onto your elbows, brushing his blunted nose with your own. “Since when did you decide to be my daddy?” you asked, voice low.

Jake’s reaction was predictably dominating; he hissed low in his throat, pushing his forehead down against yours so that your head landed back on the pillow. He rutted his hips forward, and you whimpered when his dick brushed your oversensitive clit.

“This isn’t time for jokes kid. Talk to me.” he growled, and you sobered quickly as he moved the head of his cock to your entrance, applying pressure so you felt some semblance of the reality of what was about to happen.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hands to his face and pulled him down, trying not to think of just how much he had to crane his neck to lean closer. “Just… slow. If it doesn’t fit, then fine.” you tried, swallowing the lump in your throat as Jake nudged you again.

“Trust me, kid, it’ll fit. Stretched you to hell and back not too long ago.” he assured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just relax.”

“Oh, and let’s not call me ‘kid’ when you’re about to fuck me, yeah?” you snipped, tightening your thighs around his waist.

Jake chucked, muttered a soft “brat.” into your ear that got you to laugh. While you were distracted, he pushed his hips forward and slid the first inch of his dick in.

You squealed, and Jake had to keep his hold on your thighs tight and you tried to move away. Your hands flew to his shoulders, clawing into his skin deep enough to draw blood.

It should have hurt- he should have noticed the stings of pain.

But all he could register was tight, warm walls wrapped around his dick with a vice so harsh he swore they were gonna snap it clean off.

With breaks and whispered praise from him, he gradually suck inch by inch of his think cock into you tight little cunt, until finally, fucking finally, he bottomed out.

Tight. Tight around his tongue, tight around his fingers, but fuck. This was on another level.

You were so good- such a good girl taking all of that length, swallowing every inch he gave you with a few tears and quiet whimpers. He leaned closer, making sure not to rock into you too soon, and kissed at the tears tracking down your face, before finally pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing your soft cries every time you’d accidentally shift your hips or he his.

“Damn, pretty girl. Gonna cut off my blood circulation.” he grunted into your shoulder, and he was rewarded with a breathy laugh from you. Experimentally, he ran a hand down between your bodies, before having to mentally convince himself not to burst at what he found.

Leaning up, he looked down at the bulge in your tummy, running a hand over it before looking to your eyes. He found you looking down with awe, wide eyed and dropped jaw at the bump.

Jake placed his palm over it, and pressed down.

The moan you let out was sinful, so desperate and pleased that he nearly rammed into you just out of instinct. But he reminded himself to take it slow as he pulled out, feeling the warmth of your pretty pussy leave him, before pushing back in.

Eywa, Jake was huge.

Of course you knew he would be- you’re not delusional. But damnit, it was almost too much. Your legs quivered with each slow thrust of Jake’s hips, and you buried your face into his shoulder to quell some of your noises. It hurt. Hurt more than anything you’d experienced before. You were quite sure Jake would leave a permanent space for himself inside of you with how you were stretching.

Jake stroked his thumb against your skin where his hand still cupped the back of your thighs, pressing your knees up near your shoulders to get more leverage. The cot gave another soft squeak at the shift in weight, and for a moment you and Jake laughed, finding humor in the absurdity of fucking you into a rickety mattress in a room that Jake couldn’t fully stand up in.

The bulge in your tummy was only a physical manifestation of what you felt: fucking full. You could have cum just at the sight of it there, and by the foggy look in Jake’s eyes, so could he.

“Jake-“ you whispered, though it came out as more of a punched-out wheeze. “Move.”

His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, checking for any hesitation. When he found none, he shifted back on the bed, pulling away. You could feel the emptiness he left behind, and you opened your mouth to protest.

Before you could utter a word, Jake’s hands shifted from your thighs to your hips, and promptly rammed his cock back into you.

You screamed, the rush of pleasure and twinge of pain making you throw your head back as your hands flew to his shoulders, grounding yourself as he repeated the motion. You could feel him, deep inside of you, pressing against your cervix, his tip threatening to push past the barrier and straight into your womb.

That should have scared you, but it only made you rock your hips up to meet Jake’s with each thrust, reveling in the slick slide of his dick against your walls.

“Fucking hell, baby-“ he all but hissed, pinning your legs up again. “Taking this dick so well.”

You whined in response, trying and failing to assemble some kind of sentence to give him. Fucked out and cock drunk from just a few thrusts. How pathetic a sight you were. But no matter how humiliated you would feel later, right now you were confronted will all consuming pleasure and fullness.

Jake was confronted with the view of tears leaking from your eyes and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, whining and moaning weakly as he continued to pound into you. He was sure he wasn’t much better, anyway. Jesus, he thought maybe you’d loosen, only to be met with a tight clench of your tight little cunt around his cock when he hit your g-spot.

Everything was on fire. Your body, your mind, your pussy. Fuck, you needed to cum. You needed to fucking cum.

“Daddy-“ you whined, finally meeting Jake’s eyes as he bent over you, letting his nose brush yours.

“I know, baby girl. Go ahead and cum around daddy’s cock. Make him proud.” he grunted out, feeling his own release pool deep in his stomach as he tucked his face into the space between your shoulder and jaw.

His permission was all it took for something inside to finally snap, and you could feel yourself gush around Jake’s dick as your whole body trembled, thighs shaking even as Jake held them. After a few beats the pleasure turned into overstimulation, and your moaning became sobs, whimpering into Jake’s shoulder for him to cum already-

Jake shuffled closer to press himself as far in as he could as he felt the coil in his stomach tighten one last time, and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, tasting salt and iron as his release filled your core.

You barely even protested, your body jumping slightly under his at the pain, but otherwise you were limp in his arms. Jake pulled back to look at you, letting one of your legs go and bringing his hand to your cheek. “Hey…” he murmured softly, running his tongue over the dribble of blood from the bite mark marring your skin, waiting for you to come down.

“Hey…” you responded after a second, pushing weekly at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop prodding at the wound. Jake chuckled and shifted.

“Pulling out.” he warned you, before pulling himself out of you with a wet squelch. If you weren’t thoroughly fuck out, you would have blushed. But right now, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Jake chuckled once more, curling next to you and cradling your body against his chest as you began to drift off. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tail curling around your thigh as his hand ran over your back.

“Mhm.” you managed, pressing a kiss to his pectoral as he hitched one of your legs around his waist. “Just gonna be sore in the morning.”

He hummed in agreement, glancing at the bruises on your hips and waist from his hands. Jake knew he should have felt bad for it, and yet his chest hummed with pride at the sight of the physical evidence of him on your body.

Mine.

He pressed a kiss to your head as your breathing evened out, feeling his own eyes grow heavy.

“We’ll worry ‘bout it in the morning, baby. Just rest.” he whispered.

And with an ache between your legs and dripping warmth in your core, you did just that, already drifting away into sleep as his body calmed against yours.

[frannyzooey]

The Dinner

Marcus Moreno x f!college reader

The Secret Universe

Rating: Explicit, Daddy Kink™ (seriously, like a lot)

A/N: I have many people to thank for this one: @imaswellkid @the-ginger-hedge-witch @whatsnewalycat @obiknights and the amazing @the-scandalorian - every single one of them gave me the most amazing advice, but also gave me endless reassurance when I needed it, and I could never thank them enough. Sometimes it really takes a village ❤

--

“How is stats this semester? Need any help?” 

You take a slow sip of your ice water, listening. 

“It’s okay,” Missy replies. “Better, now that I signed up for tutoring during my free period, which — “ she points her fork at her father, who currently has a slightly smug expression on his face, “— totally sucks. I know you said it would help, and it did, but at what cost, dad?”

His shoulders move as he huffs a laugh and he pokes around his dinner plate, spearing some roasted broccoli. Shrugging, he glances at you. “Is a couple of hours a week impacting your guys' social life that bad?”

“No, sir,” you answer with a polite smile. 

The title slips off your tongue with ease, and his playful expression falters for a moment. 

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair. “That’s what I thought.” 

He takes a swallow of his water — a small sip, then a larger one — and the three of you continue to eat. 

The dining room where you sit is seldom used, but cozy. The lighting dim but inviting, the sparse surface of the table lends it a more formal appearance and you think about how much you would have preferred to eat at the table in the kitchen. The one you passed earlier, cluttered with mail, magazines, keys, and other things that never really have any other home than a flat surface in the kitchen. 

Eating there would have made you feel more at ease. Eating here makes you feel more like a guest. And with Marcus at the head of the table, the formality of the seating arrangement pulls at you: a constant reminder of who he is. 

Forks slide against plates, glasses being set down with a muted thud on the wooden surface of the table and when Missy reaches for another bread roll, a glance over at him has you noticing his body language.  

He’s looking everywhere but you – at a painting on the wall, at his half eaten plate, at the condensation gathering on his glass. He lets his hand rest around the glass, his thumb swiping through the water and a thrumming, heady pulse that Missy seems oblivious to grows until it fills the space between your chairs. 

Swallowing, you place your elbow on the table near his own. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his attention turns back to Missy. 

“What else is new?” he asks. “I never hear from you anymore. The room still okay? The bed still make that funny noise?”

Missy frowns, holding a bite of chicken aloft in front of her mouth. “How did you know about that?” 

Marcus sits up straight, shifting again in his chair and opening his mouth as if getting ready to speak, but Missy interrupts him. 

“Oh yea, it was there on move in day,” she remembers. “Whatever. No, we got that tool kit out that you gave me at the beginning of the year and fixed it yesterday. A real girl boss moment.”

She looks over at you and grins, and you return it despite the rapid beat of your heart.

“Yea,” you add, not allowing your eyes to stray from her face. “You killed it.”

You can feel his eyes on you, aware out of the corner of your eye how they slide down your frame and back up again. Whether he’s conscious of it or not, he’s been doing it all night and you want nothing more than to return the look, but you don’t. 

“You ladies have any plans for the weekend?” Marcus asks. 

Missy nods, excitement filling her eyes. “Yea, I think so? I got laundry and stuff to catch up on, but there is this party tomorrow night I wanna go to. I got a text about it earlier, I think it’s around 8ish?”

A small frown appears between Marcus’s brows. “Where’s it at? Around here?”

“Yea, I think so? I’m not really sure. I’ll have to look up the address or something.”

He doesn’t like that answer, you can tell by the way his frown doesn’t go away and you chance a peek at his face while he’s distracted. A pulsing beat gathers between your thighs, at both the sternness of his expression but also the care behind it. 

“Well,” he continues, taking another bite of dinner. “Let me know, okay? I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

“Dad,” Missy playfully whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out under the table and when one of his knees knocks into yours, you still. 

His eyes glance down, a short, apologetic smile showing briefly in your direction but he doesn’t move it. It stays there, his leg shifting just enough to press against yours with intent and as the dinner goes on, you resist the urge to smile. 

–

You met them both for the first time on move-in day. 

Cars lined along the driveway to the dorms with their trunks crammed full of new bedding and boxes and the bare essentials for kitchens and showers, you noticed them right away. 

Missy, true to the picture she emailed you weeks ago when introducing herself as your new roommate, and Marcus, when he stepped around the side of the car to open the trunk. Close-cropped dark hair shone browner in the sun, the strands neatly combed into place, yet slightly curled with the humidity. His shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders, tucked neatly into dress pants that fit him perfectly. The fabric pulled across his back when he leaned forward to reach in for the first boxes and when Missy shouted your name, he turned around. 

You had to pull your eyes away from his face to greet her with a shy smile. 

He stuck around the entire morning – making sure the lofts were set up correctly, helping move furniture, his kind, good humored eyes on his daughter as he took in her first day at college. He offered to take the two of you out to lunch in celebration, but before you could reply, Missy shooed him away. 

“We’re gonna go grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You can get outta here, dad. Thanks for the help.”

You could tell she genuinely meant it, but the paltry thanks wasn’t enough in your opinion. He had already done more than your parents had ever done for you, and you wondered what it was like to grow up in a house where it happened so often you took it for granted. Your parents hadn’t even bothered to give you a ride on your first day, you had taken the bus with your meager boxes. 

He humored her, giving her a soft smile and when he turned to say goodbye to you, you made sure to hold his gaze when you thanked him. 

“Not a problem,” he replied sincerely. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

–

The two of them clear the plates while you grab what you can from the table, and it’s apparent that they have their own shorthand method of communication with each other. She clears, he starts the dishwater. She empties scraps into the trash to stack plates neatly by the sink, and when you help her, his eyes linger on your mouth when he turns to say thank you. 

A routine that had never taken place in your own home, you revel in the roles everyone plays. The comfort of them, the domesticity. You imagine the two of them doing this every night before Missy left for college, and the mental image of Marcus standing at the sink with his t-shirt stretched over the strong muscles of his back warms you from the inside out. Even more when you think about him reminding Missy to clear her place, or asking her what she wants in her lunch tomorrow. 

The qualities of a dad: one who does because he cares, but also guides. 

Done clearing, Missy leaves the room, the telltale sound of the washer door opening down the hall, and Marcus stills at the sink, listening. 

“Listen, don’t jam it all in there like last time, okay?” he warns, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. “You can do more than one load. No rush, Missy, okay?”

“Yea, yea, I got it,” she yells back, and he sighs, shaking his head. You meet his eye in a knowing look, and the corner of his lips pulls up in a rueful smile. 

“She almost broke it last time, trying to fit about a month of clothes in all at once.”

You laugh, and nod. “She does that at the dorm too.” 

He shakes his head, pushing his hands into the water. 

“You don’t need to use those machines — either of you. You’re always welcome to come over and do it here,” he offers, searching in the sudsy water for a plate. Finding it, he begins scrubbing it with a rag. “Either of you. Even if she can’t come, you can.”

A pause.

“Anytime you want.”

The invitation hangs between the two of you in the silence, and you keep your eyes on his forearms as they flex above the suds. A sudden, unbidden image of them flexing between your thighs flashes through your mind, the weight of his fingers felt inside you. 

His voice lowers. “We could even plan it that way, so we don’t have to keep…“

He gives you a knowing look, and guilt gnaws at you as you listen to Missy hum in the next room.  

“It’s not that I don’t want that,” you explain, your voice keeping quiet. “I just don’t want…” Uncertainty flashes across your features and when you look up, you find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Don’t want what?” he asks. 

Unsure how to put your fear into words, you hesitate. Moving your meetings to his house somehow makes them more of an offense in your mind. In the space he shares with his daughter; their family home. 

The duality of the man standing next to you has been messing with you all night: the Marcus that stands beside you now versus the Marcus that you know. The unassuming, kind face of a good father masking the hooded lust you know his eyes contain. The strength held in his arms when he takes the trash out; the flex of them under your bare knees when he spreads you wide. His plush bottom lip in a soft smile for his daughter; the same pressing against your skin, your mouth, between your legs. 

A secret shadow follows him around constantly, fleeting slices of the man you know appearing if you watch him long enough. His throaty laugh, the spread of his thighs on the couch, the flex of his jaw.

Seeing him here in his kitchen or at the head of the dining room table has the men merging in your mind despite your ability, until now, to keep them separate. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth, thinking. 

“Don’t want what?” he repeats, softer this time, tenderness curling around the words and you’re about to answer when Missy walks back into the kitchen. 

“Hey, you don’t have to help him with that. I got it.”

He stands taller, shifting away from you and you back up from the sink, making room for her. She immediately scoops a delicate mound of bubbles and flicks them at Marcus, laughing when he grimaces with a chuckle. The teasing makes you smile.

He’s so good with her — so patient, and kind, and attentive. So genuinely invested in her answers in a way you’d never experienced, and though you are happy for your best friend in that she has such a doting parent, you’d be lying if you said a little jealousy never crept into your heart when you watched them. 

Not because you wanted either of them to choose you, but because they so clearly had each other. Someone to depend on; a traditional parental/child relationship full of trust and respect and love. 

You watch them for a moment as they work in tandem, their mannerisms similar from behind. 

“I’m gonna take a shower before bed,” you announce, and excusing yourself from the room, you leave them to finish the dishes. 

—

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Down the hall from his room and across from Missy’s, the guest bedroom door clicks shut quietly in the dark. The shuffle of sheets whispering as you shift to make room for him in the bed, the mattress dips when he joins you, the heat of his body felt close. His hands reach for you, pulling you closer and there are no other words spoken as his mouth meets yours, deepening the kiss immediately. 

His tongue slides against your own, your taste familiar and maddeningly addictive, and he groans deeply into it, rolling you onto your back. 

Beneath the solid weight of his body is your favorite place – secure, safe, desired, wanted. Trapped between the soft bed and the scent of his warm skin, his mouth takes and takes and takes from yours until you’re drunk with arousal beneath him, wanting to stay there forever. 

“I wanted you so bad at dinner,” he breathes in a low confession. “So fucking bad, even when you walked through the door.”

Every one of his words is matched with a weighted grind of his hips into the cradle of your thighs, and you roll right back against him, a soft sound catching in your throat at the delicious pressure. There is something that makes you weak about his voice in general, but when he swears – especially in his desperation to express how much he’s wanted you – it lights a path straight from your ears to your center; need blooming fierce and bright.

You would tell him how much you thought about him just as much if his mouth didn’t immediately cover yours again, and pushing your fingers through his close-cropped dark hair, you match his urgency. Your knees hitch higher around his broad torso, your thighs tightening with every flex of your hips up and the stiff length of his cock underneath his sleep pants fits perfectly along the damp seam darkening your underwear. 

You can feel the thick ridge of it, aching for the filling heft as he grinds his hips against you again and again, and whimpering for more underneath him, the words slip out. 

“Please, daddy.”

He stills for a split second, breaking the kiss as a shudder slips through him and a wash of embarrassed heat floods your face, but it’s quickly replaced with arousal when he groans as if in pain, his furrowed brow pressed into the plane of your chest. 

His hand splays against your side to keep you in place with a pained press of his fingers. “Jesus Christ, baby, you can’t — you can’t say things like that. Please. Please.”

“But I want it,” you whisper. 

You do. You’ve wanted it ever since you met him, just knowing by looking at him that he would give you what you need. So thoughtful, so considerate and kind, so attentive and warm but also very much a man – a handsome, understated man with needs that showed clear on his face every time you met him after that first time. 

The second, third, fourth time you met him, the flicker of interest in his dark brown eyes. 

The magnetic, heady pulse of attraction that filled the small room when he showed up once while Missy was at class. 

The lunch that he invited you to instead of her, and the undivided attention he gave you from across the table. The way he reminded you to buckle your seatbelt, and the way you leaned over and kissed him when he waited a beat too long reluctantly saying goodbye outside your dorm, on the street.  

That first, tentative kiss after he followed you back to your room at the reassurance Missy had classes that afternoon, and the frown furrowed between his brows, both at how wrong it was to want this and relief at finally giving in. 

The soft cotton of your sheets sliding against your bare back, the way his body seemed too big for the narrow twin. 

His giving mouth, soothing guidance rumbled in his deep voice. 

Something that’s taken root in your mind with every time he brings you to bed, you don’t know how else to describe how you want to be tucked into his side to be made felt safe and secure, while also fucked deep into the mattress until you’re sobbing with fullness. 

Being here with him has made the need for it unbearable, and what you do know is that no matter what you want, he’ll give it to you. 

Your confession is a quiet one that lingers in the air and he looks up, his doleful, brown eyes finding yours. They stay there, searching for the truth and when he finds it in your slightly ashamed expression, he pulls himself up until you are face to face. 

“Yea?” he asks, soothing stray hairs at your temple. “You want a daddy?”

The word gives him pause, but his cock hardens painfully against the cool sheets and when you nod, the vulnerability shown on your face is so open that he finds himself mirroring it, wanting to soothe. 

He not only understands but wants, so very badly.  

“Okay, okay,” he agrees. The tension in your body drains as you soften underneath him; pliant and moldable for his needs. “Say it again, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whisper in a relieved rush, your plush lips parting only just. 

His hooded eyes watch the word slip from your mouth, and his thumb skates along the plump cushion of your bottom lip, before pushing just inside. He slides his thumb over the wet muscle of your tongue, letting you suck on it. 

Bright need swells and aches between his thighs, your soft, lush skin slipping against his as you squirm in need underneath him and he slips his thumb from your mouth before pressing his lips to yours with a rough kiss. 

Desperate to feel the clutch of your tight, wet cunt, he reaches down to open you up for him, his hand slipping beneath your panties and his fingers sliding with a familiar swipe through your soaked curls. He finds the dip where you need him most, your arousal soaking the pads of his competent touch and his breathing quickens, his eyes flitting between your face and his cotton covered hand. 

The same fingers that made dinner, that queued up the movie, that clasped under his chin when he listened to Missy talk. The same ones that held the steering wheel in a loose grip as he drove you to the store.

They’ve slid into your mouth before, and then your cunt. Brushed against the puckered rim of your asshole, swirled with divine pressure over your clit, and filled you to the brim until you cried out, your cunt a snug slip around them. 

Two fill you now with an urgent slide, the action making him swallow the soft catch of your whine and the ease in which he slips them in and out is aided by how wet and ready you are for him. 

Always so wet; his perfect girl.

“When you called me ‘sir’ at the dinner table,” he pants, nuzzling the bridge of his nose along your jaw as he looks down at his hand. Your thighs open wider for him, and you softly moan, chasing the thick fill of his fingers. “I almost fucking lost it. So sweet. So sweet, baby.” 

“Just – just for you.” Your brow furrowed in pleasure, you chase what he’s building inside you, your small hand slipping down to cover his larger one. Your fingers push over his, guiding him as if he needs it, and the both of you get lost in the slick, consuming motion; his eyes glued on your parted mouth. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to say it. The daddy thing, I –”

“Don’t be sorry. No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, baby. I wanna hear it. I want it.”

His soothing words wash over you, your cunt accepting him deeper as he adds a third finger and before he gives you time to adjust, he’s slipping them from your wet heat, sliding them into his mouth with a suck. He groans with a frown, his lashes dark against his face as his eyes flutter shut and he shifts abruptly down the bed. 

His fingers grip the band of your underwear and tug them roughly down your legs before the width of his shoulders forces your knees apart. The heat of his mouth felt in a humid gust against your spread, bared seam, he tugs you tight to his face, and the emptiness left by the sudden absence of his fingers is immediately replaced with his thick, eager tongue. 

“Marcus!”

His whiskered cheeks brushing roughly against the tender skin on the inside of your thighs, he devours your cunt, his back flexing as he nearly pushes you up the bed in his hunger if not for the way his hands curl around the top of your thighs to hold you in place.  

“Shhh, baby. Shhh,” he reminds you, and you let out a quiet sob, clasping your hand over your mouth. 

He’s so much, a sensory overload being amplified by the darkness around you: the needy grip of his large hands, the slick slide of his tongue, the muffled groans he’s letting out between your legs. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he breathes, his mouth dragging damply over the inside of your thigh with a thick kiss before he licks your clit with the flat of his tongue. He slides it from side to side with pressure, a motion that makes you bow off the bed. 

Mindless with pleasure, you’re overcome with the need to anchor yourself to something — the direct attention is so much, too much — and your hands fist the sheets, your back arching. 

“I washed it just for you, daddy.”

You should be embarrassed but all traces of shame are turned to cinder the second he groans deep and loud, the sound muffled by the way he immediately buries his face with an open mouthed kiss. It’s messy and decadent, his tongue pushing inside you and then it swipes lower. 

Your hips jolt up to meet it; his low, satisfied groan sounding between your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the tip of his tongue pressing against the tight ring of muscle before he flattens it to lick a wide, wet stripe from the seam of your ass all the way to your clit. Another one, before he gives your soaked entrance a hungry kiss and the pressure of his face being buried so deep makes you grind against him, your hips moving in time with his, as he seeks his own relief against the sheets. 

“I’m gonna — I’m gonna fucking come. Daddy, you’re gonna make me come.” 

It’s a plea if he’s ever heard one, and he zeroes his focus in on your clit — circling it with his tongue before giving it a light suck. He keeps going as you thread your fingers into his hair with a tug, keeps going as you press your lips together to try to stifle your moans, and keeps going when your thighs tense around his cheeks and you come with a breathless whimper; his tongue swiping hungrily through the salt of your release.

All tension in your body gone, he kisses a path slowly up your body while you lay and catch your breath – up over the top of your thigh, the rounded curve of your hip, the soft, plush underside of your breast. 

He cradles you to his chest, tugging you onto your side as his mouth drags along the line of your neck. He kisses a path over the skin and your hips shift, seeking his out. He can feel you squirming, looking for relief and bellies together, he rolls you onto your back, your hands working together to push his pajama bottoms down and off. 

Your touch is back to frantic as he pulls from your mouth, his hands cradling the sides of your head to keep you in place as he gets his fill and you wind your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push inside. 

He does – a motion that makes your moan get lost underneath his deeper one – and the snap of his hips is immediate and hard, the filling weight of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. 

His lips kiss your closed eyelids, his tongue sweeping over the salt rimmed lashes where a tear lingers and his mouth finds the fragrant, soft skin below your ear. His lips press against it, his mustache tickling you, the roll of his hips never ceasing. 

“You’re being so good for daddy. So good.”

Your eyes open and find his, and he throbs with how sincerely vulnerable you look underneath him right now, desperate to know you’re being good. 

“You’re such a good girl. Always letting me fuck you the way I want. Always letting me take care of you, like you take care of me.” His lips find the corner of your mouth, the delicacy of the kiss in contrast with the way you have to dig your nails into his broad back to hang on as he fucks you harder and he pulls back just enough to look at your face.

“You’re so good, aren’t you, baby. Aren’t you.”

It’s not a question for you to answer, but rather a statement he needs you to confirm and you nod, a tiny frown of pleasure appearing between your brows as you shift rhythmically underneath him. 

“My baby,” he murmurs, catching your mouth in a deep kiss. “My baby.” 

Your hand trails down the line of his spine and splays over his tailbone, sweat beading along the skin as he fills, fills, fills and you widen your thighs, digging your fingers into the swell of his ass to force him deeper. 

“Please, daddy. Please.”

His hips shift into a slow, weighted grind when you beg using those words. He never pulls all the way out, rather forcing himself so deep into the heart of you that you tremble with the need to come underneath him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty. So pretty when you’re gonna come.”

His praise fills you with light from the inside out, pouring out through your sweat damp skin where it’s flush with his own and another tear slips free; your release both a bright, shining edge that he’s guiding you towards and a strong, powerful current that threatens to pull you under. 

“Give it to me.” 

His voice is husky and strained, a quiet plea for you to let go and when you do with a silent cry, the deep dimpled smile on his face is a proud one, equal parts awe and lust. 

He follows shortly after, the tight, wet clutch of your cunt too much for him – but it’s your relieved face that makes him spend every ounce inside you with slow, smooth strokes until there is nothing left. You look so light underneath him, so content and drowsy and drunk with relief. 

He can’t help himself when he bends to kiss the tear track that runs over your temple, giving you another kiss on the apple of your cheek. 

“So good. You were so good.”

You’re so spent you can’t even kiss him back, rather letting him gently nudge you to meet his mouth and even then you let him take what he needs from your kiss swollen lips, opening up for him when his mouth demands it. 

Eventually he shifts, just enough to settle beside you rather than on top, but you automatically follow the heat of his body, curling into his chest. 

“There’s, uh —” he starts, closing his eyes. You watch the thud of his pulse under the tanned skin of his neck. He licks his plush lips, trying to catch his breath. “There’s milk and cereal — or eggs, if you want those in the morning. I didn’t know what you guys would want, so I —“

Your quiet laugh stops him and he looks down at you, smiling when he sees your expression. 

“Are you really telling me about my breakfast options, like some kinda guest?”

“Yea, I guess I am,” he grins. “But you are a special guest in this house,” he replies, tugging you closer. His mouth finds the curve of your collarbone, his smile felt against the skin there. “Especially for me.”

“Guests really get the full treatment here, huh,” you tease. “Dinner, laundry, breakfast, their ass eate—“

You can almost feel his blush in the dark, his fingers immediately digging into your side to stop your sentence, and your stifled giggles fill the dark room but he doesn’t let up until you’re squirming underneath him, breathlessly begging him to stop. 

“What?” you laugh, trying to keep quiet. “I liked that part of the turn down service.”

He grins, the knowing smile of a pleased man who is well aware he did good. He leans in, putting his mouth by your ear. 

“Good to know. Maybe tomorrow the service will include it again.” He pulls back and winks, leaning back in to give you a quick, full kiss. 

“I wish I could stay, but I better get back to my room.”

“I know.”

“See you in the morning?” he asks, so soft and mussed and hopeful yet grown; his voice low and husky. His eyes are soft with affection, his unwavering gaze showing that he genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay before he leaves. 

His hand cradles the curve of your cheek, his thumb swiping along the line of your cheekbone and you tilt to press a kiss against the heel of it. Relief like you haven’t ever known floods through you, but more than that is what you feel underneath that earnest gaze. 

Safe, secure. In both yourself, and what you mean to him. 

“Yea. See you in the morning.”

He smiles, bending to place a delicate, warm kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

You sigh with contentment. 

“Goodnight, daddy.”

[babyhatesreality]

what if someone else tries to discipline stucky's babygirl?🥹🥹 like, some random dude who considers himself a daddy got mad for something she did?? i think daddy stucky would absoluty go ✨bersek✨

Oh....*Berserk* is putting it mildly....

But let's back up a bit first. You've been with Steve and Bucky long enough that you're truly and deeply one of the family. And with that, it means that you and your friends have gotten into plenty of trouble before at each other's places. You've been put in time outs by several of your extended family members- mostly Tony, Pepper, Natasha, and Bruce. There's a rule in the tower that if you're little and misbehaving while in their care, anyone in the family is allowed to give a time out. Of course it means you're in big trouble when your primary caregivers find out, so you don't ever MEAN to get into mischief. It just ...sometimes ...happens! Right?? :D

But there was this one time that SHIELD was introducing a group of new operatives. They were the ones who would be running some of the simpler operations that didn't require super strength, stealth, or swag. But they would have access to and contact with the Avengers, and so were brought into the Tower for training.

There was this one new recruit named Kenneth. He was tall, had a firm jaw, strong enough to handle pretty much anything- and had an extremely overblown sense of his own worth. He had decided (without asking anyone or confirming anything) that he was on his way to becoming the first civilian Avenger simply because...he was that awesome. Which he was not, but that comes later.

Since this new operatives team would also be responsible for looking out for low level threats to the Avengers themselves, they were briefed on all the Littles and Caregivers in the tower. So if, God forbid, something happened, they knew the chain of command to help take care of the Littles in a crisis situation- mostly getting the Littles to the correct Avenger.

Welp, as with most other things, Kenneth didn't feel these rules applied to him either. He knew that if he were ever to encounter one of you "littles" (as he put it, complete with his own stupid air quotes and a dumb look on his face), he'd make sure that he'd show his authority, and that would prove he could be an Avenger. *Sidenote-it's funny how these dude-bros' egos work, isn't it?*

One day Daddy and Papa had brought you upstairs with them, as had the rest of the caregivers with their own littles. It was an easy half day, and barring anything suddenly popping up, there was just regular paperwork and classified debriefings to meet about- a safe day for you all to be up there. The other littles were playing a game of tag in the big rec room, but you were feeling a little cranky from a rough night and just wanted to be on your daddies' laps. You would hop down off Bucky's lap ten minutes into a meeting to climb onto Steve's, and then back again ten minutes later. Hey, you were happy, they were happy, it was all good.

You politely asked if you could go get a drink of water, and after insisting that you could be a big girl by yourself, Bucky let you go down the hall to the kitchen area. And that's where you ran into Kenneth, who was sneaking up to the meeting, trying to make up some excuse as to why he needed to be in this Avengers-only debriefing (he was pretty sure they weren't even going to question his right to be there, but it was always good to have a plan B, right?).

He immediately identified you, and stopped you in the hallway by grabbing you by the shoulder (wrong move #1). "And where do you think you're going, little girl?" he asked you snidely (wrong move #2). You immediately stepped back, trying to get yourself out of his grip. You didn't know this guy, and you weren't supposed to talk to strangers. And no one was allowed to touch you without your permission. Daddy and Papa taught you well.

But Kenneth took that as defiance before you even opened your mouth, tightening his grip on your arm (wrong move #3...you get the idea). "You are not supposed to be wandering the halls by yourself, are you?" he sneered. "Some caregivers, just letting a helpless little girl wander around unguarded." He leaned into your face. "Someone could get hurt."

That scared you, as it sounded very threatening, so you shook your arm again, trying to pull away. "Please let go," you said through gritted teeth, trying to be polite (he was in the Tower after all, and no one got in without SHIELD's permission), but really wanting to kick this guy in his private area. Instead, Kenneth yanked your arm so hard that you cried out, and started dragging you towards the meeting room. He shoved you down onto your bottom right outside the doorway, then pointed a finger at you.

"You stay right there, little missy, and don't even think about moving. You've been very bad and you're in big trouble," he scolded, unwarranted. You just glared at him but didn't move. He didn't even bother knocking on the door to the meeting room- he just barged in.

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes? I've got something that you both need to see, immediately," he said arrogantly.

You heard the shuffle and scramble of your daddies moving quickly, and you knew they were panicking about you. But the second they got out of the doorway and saw you cowering on the floor with a glower on your face, they both stopped, confused.

"Baby, are you okay?" Bucky asked frantically, dropping to his knees and reaching out to you. You threw yourself into his arms, relieved.

"What happened? Why was she sitting on the floor?" Steve asked as he got down next to you and Bucky, brushing your hair away from your face and scanning you as hard as he could, looking for injuries.

"She was wandering around the halls, unsupervised," Kenneth replied lightly, the arrogance dripping off of him. "Then she was defiant and disobedient when I tried to help her."

" 'Tried to help her'?" Steve repeated, slowly standing up to face Kenneth. Anyone with half a brain could hear the steel in his voice and see the rage in his posture. Even Kenneth turned a bit pale at the fury he'd unknowingly invoked. "What...exactly...did she need help with?"

"Well, er...um..she wasn't supposed to be in the hallways-"

"She had permission to be there," Steve interrupted him. The aura of controlled anger about to snap that was radiating off your Papa was something to behold- you'd never seen him like this before and it was AWESOME. "She was getting a drink from the kitchen." He turned to you, smiling softly, but his vibranium-infused posture didn't change one bit. "Lovebug, were you able to get your drink?"

"No, Papa," you said simply.

"I see," he said, turning back to Kenneth as his gaze turned back to razor blades. "So you kept my baby from getting a drink when she's thirsty, you stopped her without permission and tried to get her to disobey OUR directives, and you barged into a classified meeting." He pinned the now completely pale Kenneth to the wall with only his clear cut steel blue gaze. "Anything else, baby girl?" he asked you without turning his head.

"He touched me," you added, then turned your gaze to Bucky, who was still holding you. "And it hurt my arm."

Bucky set you down gently, then stood up and faced Kenneth.

Kenneth was only able to remember three things from that moment until he woke up in the hospital. The first being the insanely loud thundering of crumbling concrete mixed with a strange whooshing sound that he couldn't immediately identify. There was also a cracking and a crunching that seemed to be coming from inside of him, but that didn't make any sense either...

The second thing was the fact that he was no longer in the hallway- he seemed to have somehow transported to another area that he was pretty sure was about three rooms away from where he'd just been standing.

The third thing was the sudden and overwhelming pain screaming all over his body. He had just enough time to realize that the Winter Soldier had thrown him through 3 solid walls before he blacked out.

When he woke up in the hospital, among the machines and IVs, he found a small cardboard box with all his desk items in it.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Slow

Summary: A night out celebrating Miller Contracting finishing their first big contract on time with the next one around the corner, leaves you going home with Joel and Frank, spending a night with both men you would have never dreamed of.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader x Frank Castle

Wordcount: 3,864

Rating: E

Warnings: somewhat established relationships, unspecified age gap, alcohol, smut (oral m receiving, unprotected sex) mmf threesome, everyone is bi here, feelings, a little derogatory language, public fingering, no outbreak AU

A/N: this is something I did not know I needed 26 hours ago. Also only a little edited. This is just for fun. I also fucking hate writing threesomes so if you find mistakes, please don't tell me lol

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„So, come around here often?“ You tried not to roll your eyes, leaning with your side against the bar counter of the shady, yet cozy dive bar your boss had all invited you to to celebrate finishing the first big project on time and landing two new ones. 

You hadn’t worked that long for Miller Contracting Ltd. You hadn’t been living in Austin long in the first place. A shitty break up and a boss who did not know how to keep his hands to himself let you pack your few belongings and visit your best friend almost a year ago. It had been a five day road trip, but it had changed your life. 

Now you had your own apartment, a new car and a new job as…. The girl for well, everything that had to do with numbers at Miller Contracting. 

Your boss did not make a big secret out of his dislike for paperwork in your interview.

Which led you standing in one of your favourite summer dresses, waiting for the guy behind the bar to notice you so you could order the last round for the table. 

You tilted your head to the side, finding Tommy looking at you, his eyebrows wiggling playfully, a silly grin on his lips. Tommy Miller was the younger of the Miller brothers and definitely had a drink (or three) too much already.

„Not sure if your wife likes you flirting with other woman, Miller,“ you grinned and he chuckled. 

„Not flirting. Don’t need to. I have the hottest wife at home. Here to help you,“ he said. 

You smiled, loving how in love he was with his wife, their first baby on the way. 

The bar man finally approached and Tommy ordered another round, water for you, and began to talk to the man about the latest football match. Something you very much were not interested in. 

Taking this as your cue to go you turned away, walking slowly back to the table. It was already getting late, and most of the workers had already left for home. Only Frank and Joel, your boss, were left.

They seemed to be in a deep discussion, leaving you to admire them both as you walked back over to the table. 

Frank had joined the crew not too long ago. Moving from outer state, looking for a job he had shown up at the working site, ready to be put to work. He had politely asked to talk to whoever is in charge after he knocked at the trailer that had been set up at the construction site for you. 

If you appeared… flustered he did not comment on it, talking to Joel who had been in the trailer with you to… talk about the pay checks for the coming week. 

At least that’s what he told everyone the day before the checks were due. 

Yes you did talk about the checks for the first ten minutes. The remaining time, however much he had left, was spend with you bend over your desk and he railing you from behind until you were both more than satisfied. 

You hadn’t been looking for someone. Much less your boss. Not that you thought a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you. 

He was… the manliest man you had ever met, older than you by a couple years. A hardworking Single Dad of a adorable twelve year old named Sarah. 

He was tall, broad, the slightest of silver shining through this dark hair and beard.

Funny enough the first time you slept together was after you both were a little tipsy in just this bar, waking up in his bed with a pleasant soreness you had never felt before, leaving for an awkward breakfast at which you both decided that you had to try this again sober. 

Deciding pretty quickly that you both wanted to continue seeing each other, no strings attached after. 

You, because you were figuring out a way to let you believe a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you (and your body) and Joel because he didn’t know how to let someone in and let them see the real him. The man who was scared to fall in love, to let someone in. 

Even though he already was very much in love with you. 

Not that you would know. 

You smiled at Frank as he looked up, sitting down next to Joel. Not too close, not too far. Even though part of you wanted to lean against his side and play with his hand that was resting on the bench next to you. 

„Whatcha talking about?“ You asked. They both looked at each other, before looking back at you.

„Hockey,“ both said in union and you nodded slowly, suspicious. 

„Doesn’t sound like a lie at all,“ you nodded and they both laughed. You looked at Joel, finding him hiding a smile as he looked at you for a moment before he looked back at Frank. 

Frank brought the bottle of his beer to his lips, taking the last sip, before he leaned back against the bench, watching both you and Joel with a amused smile.

You could admit that Frank was fucking hot. 

There was something dark about him, that made him even more attractive. And yeah when he was at the construction site and was working shirtless you always found a reason to spend a little bit more time outside. 

Something even Joel had noticed, hissing against your ear as he fucked you hard, asking if you wanted Frank instead of him. 

You only realised after that Joel had been jealous, finding him working shirtless only a couple days after, winking at you as he found your eyes.

Tommy stumbled against the table with the drinks. 

„My very beautiful wife is waiting outside for me. Be good. Don’t do something I wouldn’t do,“ he grinned and waved before he turned around and walked towards the door. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. 

„It’s adorable how much he loves his wife,“ you said, grabbing the glass of water and pushing the bottles of beer to Frank and Joel. 

„Never seen him like that ever before,“ Joel admitted.

„It’s a fucking miracle to find your person in this fucked up world,“ Frank said and you nodded. 

„Cheers to that,“ Joel said, raising his bottle, clinking it with his. You raised your glass too, cheering towards Frank, almost jumping in your seat as you felt Joel’s hand come up to rest on your thigh. You turned your head towards him and he clinked his bottle against your glass, giving you a small smirk, before drinking. 

You gulped before taking a sip of water. 

You had switched to water after your second beer, having drive here from home. Sarah was staying with a friend so Joel had invited you to stay the night and you were looking forward to tipsy Joel having his way with you. 

„So how long have you two been fucking?“ You head Frank ask and you chocked on your water, turning your head towards the man sitting across from you. 

He had his arms crossed, long at both you and Joel with an amused smiled. 

Frowning you looked at him, trying to come up with a lie you could tell him when Joel opened his mouth. 

„Better part of a year,“ he said and your mouth parted, shocked.

You two never had the discussion about telling anyone when you both still weren’t sure what this was or could become. Not that anyone ever had noticed until now.

Joel looked at you with a warm smile. He squeezed your thigh and you found yourself smiling back, warmth washing over at his admission. He did not even think about lying and it felt so fucking good to have a man not wanting to hide you like a dirty little secret. 

Even though you had been sneaking around for a year, but this was different. 

„Lucky bastard,“ Frank said and your eyes snapped from Joel to him. 

He laughed at your expression. 

„Don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking beautiful,“ he said, his eyes fixed on you. 

„She is,“ Joel said and you felt hot all of the sudden. His fingers pushed your dress up, his hand slipping between your legs and you bit your lip, your eyes still on Frank. 

„I’ve seen you watching me, girl,“ he said and you parted your lips, your chest rising as your breathing got faster. Joel’s hand kept wandering up your thigh, your legs parting for him unconsciously. 

„I haven’t…“ you began to lie, but Joel clicked his tongue. 

„Don’t lie to him, darlin’,“ he hummed, his hand between your legs pulling you closer towards him and you gasped. 

„Yeah, don’t lie to me darlin’,“ Frank repeated with a small smirk. 

„What… What is happening?“ You asked, lust clouding your mind, your panties wet as Joel fingers finally found their way to them. 

He hummed, his head bending down, his forehead resting against the side of your head. 

„Frank here had an idea to celebrate the good work you do,“ he said. 

„The work I do?“ You asked. 

„You’re the brain, we the muscle baby,“ Joel said and you gasped as his fingers pushed underneath your panties. 

„You… you did not talk about hockey while I went to get drinks,“ you said.

„No,“ Joel said.

„Joel…“ you whispered. 

„Tonight is about making you feel good. However you want,“ Frank said and you looked at him as Joel slowly pushed one of his fingers inside of you. 

You moaned quietly, your eyes slipping closed. 

„You want Frank and me to fuck you, baby?“ Joel hummed against your ear. Your eyes opened, looking at Frank who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer. 

You looked at Joel, his fingers slowly fucking into you. 

You wanted to ask him, where this idea came from. If he was certain. If he was really suggesting what you thought he was. As if he could read your mind he leaned close against your ear, whispering a quiet it’s okay. 

Flooded with confidence you turned your head, pressing your lips against his. 

„I’m taking you both home,“ you said, watching both men smirk. 

You were drunk on the power you felt as two of the hottest men you had ever laid eyes on sat on Joel’s bed, looking up at you. 

You had driven to Joel’s place with him in the car with you, Frank following behind. 

On the way Joel assured you that you were in charge to which you told him you didn’t want to be. You wanted them to fucking wreck you.

So he made you repeat the rules. 

Green for keep going. 

Yellow for slow down. 

Red for stop. 

You had never used anything than green with him before, and you did not plan on doing differently today. You trusted Frank. And you trusted Joel to keep you safe, no matter what. 

He told you to strip down for them as soon as you entered the bedroom, which left you here, slowly pushing your dress from your shoulders, swinging your hips with a shy smile as you let the fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but white laced lingerie you had worn for Joel. 

He had told you he loved you in white a while ago.

„Slower,“ Joel said, his hand palming his cock, still hidden inside his jeans. Your eyes moved from him to Frank you had his bottom lip between his teeth and one hand inside his pants. 

„Think about all the times you watched Frank work in the heat outside. Give him a little show, sweetheart,“ Joel hummed and you shuddered.

You turned away from them, taking a deep breath. You let your hands wander up an down your sides, your fingers playing with the straps of your bra, looking over you shoulder at both of them. 

Slowly up pushed the straps down before you unclasped your bra in the front, turning around, your hands covering your tits.

You found Frank’s eyes as you let your bra slip from your arms, revealing your bare tits to him for the first time. He hummed, his eyes burning as they raked over every inch of naked skin revealed to him. 

You hadn’t noticed Joel taking his cock out, his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it. 

„Go on,“ Frank nodded, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. 

„I think it would be only be fair if you get rid of some clothes to, Gentlemen,“ you said. 

„That so?“ Joel asked and you nodded. 

He looked at you, amusement in his eyes. 

„You heard the lady, Castle. Show her those abs,“ he said and you couldn’t stop your giggle at seeing Frank roll his eyes. 

Both of them took their shirts off at the same time and you couldn’t help yourself as you walked over, bringing one of your hands up to each of their broad chests. 

You sighed when you felt Joel’s hand hook into your panties, pulling them down your legs as Frank leaned in, kissing your tits.

„How about you get down on those pretty knees and suck Frank’s cock,“ Joel said and you looked down to his cock, biting your lip. He got up from the bed, his fingers tilting your chin up, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss.

„Show him how good your mouth is,“ he whispered and you nodded, looking back at Frank who had pulled down his pants in the meantime, his cock hard and leaking against his tummy. 

Slowly you lowered to your knees between his legs. His hand came to cup your cheek as you looked up at him, his thump pushing inside your mouth. You closed your lips around it, flicking your tongue over it. 

He smirked. 

„Imagined those lips around my cock so many times,“ he said, pulling his thumb out. 

„Yeah?“ You asked, your hand carefully wrapping around his cock. 

He hissed, his jaw clenching while he nodded. 

„Let me know if I live up to your Imagination,“ you said, your lips kissing the tip of his cock, humming as you licked your lips, tasting his precum. 

„Fuck me,“ he groaned and you grinned as you parted your lips to suck on the tip of his cock. 

Hallowing your cheeks you slowly took him deeper, humming at his taste. He was a bit thicker than Joel, maybe an inch or so smaller. Relaxing your jaw you took him deeper, bobbing your head slowly as you sucked him off. Your hands resting on his thighs, digging into his skin. 

The noises he made were downright sinful, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

His hand came to rest on the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair a little. 

„You can fuck her mouth. She loves it,“ Joel said from behind you and you moaned. 

„That so?“ Frank asked and you blinked your eyes, nodding with his cock in your mouth, humming around it. 

You felt Joel’s hand on the back of your neck and you looked up finding him hovering over you. 

„Come on, show him how much of a little cock slut you are,“ he said and you moaned, taking Frank’s cock deeper until your nose hit his pubic hair. 

You looked up at him, keeping him down your throat and he cursed before he began to fuck your mouth. Slowly at first, then getting rougher, the wet slurping of him fucking your mouth filling the room. 

„Fuck. You are good at that,“ he moaned, pulling out of your mouth. You smiled up at him, licking your lips. He got up to stand, pulling you up with him, kissing you hard. You moaned against his lips as you felt Joel on your back, kissing up your shoulder. 

Feeling four hands on you was a strange sensation. Someone was holding your tits in his hands, while other hands squeezed your ass. Frank’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you let yourself relax against Joel’s strong chest. 

„You can fuck her. But don’t cum inside of her,“ Joel hummed against your skin, kissing up your neck. 

You loved when he got a little possessive.

Frank parted from your lips, one of his hands holding your face as he looked at you, dark eyes fixed on yours. Joel’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers playing with your clit. 

„Want me to fuck you?“ Frank asked. You nodded, pecking his lips. You turned your head to the side, Joel’s lips finding yours before you watched him kiss Frank, your pussy clenched at watching them kiss.

„Get on the bed. On your back. Wanna look at you when I make you cum,“ Frank rasped and you nodded. He took a step back and you got on the bed, flooded with confidence you spread your legs, laughing when he crawled over to you, kissing your lips. You felt the bed dip on your side and then there was Joel. 

His warm body against your side. 

Frank’s hands were on your thighs, pushing them apart as he kissed down your body. His lips closing around your nipple. 

„So fucking perfect. You’re a lucky bastard Miller,“ he said, flicking his tongue over your nipple. 

Instead of answering Joel leaned in and kissed you, humming against your lips. He deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing one of your tits. 

You felt Frank line up between your folds, the head of his cock slipping through your slick.

„She’s fucking soaked,“ he groaned and you sucked Joel’s lip between your lips as he parted from you. 

Frank rolled you to your side, so you were laying with him against your chest, one of his arms pulling you against him, and Joel behind you. You felt Joel’s hand on your stomach, his lips against your shoulder. 

Frank wrapped your leg above his, his cock between your legs.

„Want me to fuck you now?“ Frank asked, kissing you softly. 

„Please,“ you whimpered and he chuckled. 

„I got you,“ he cooed, parting your legs a little wider to make space for him, slowly sinking into your heat. 

You felt every inch of him, letting your head slowly fall back against Joel’s.

„Shit you’re so fucking wet. So warm,“ Frank groaned, slowly fucking into you. 

You moaned, closing your eyes. You felt Joel’s hand play with your tits and you reached behind, wanting to touch him. Opening your eyes you looked down and behind, finding Frank’s hand wrapped around Joel’s cock, slowly pumping his length all while he fucked you. 

„Fuck you’re both so hot,“ you whimpered and they chuckled. 

„You’re fucking breathtaking, baby,“ Joel hummed behind you and you whimpered. 

Frank began to fuck you harder, his thrusts hitting that spot inside of you, that made your whole body shake. 

„Oh, she’s close,“ Joel hummed and you felt his hand sneak between your legs, finding your clit, beginning to circle it. Frank’s hand was now on your hip, moving you against him. 

„Make her cum, Castle,“ Joel snarled. You reached your arm back, your fingers pushing into Joel’s hair, your fingernails scratching over his scalp. He kissed the side of your head, pinched your nipple and with the way Frank was fucking into you it was only seconds before you exploded, your orgasm making you cry out loudly.

„Fuck… Fuck,“ you heard Frank curse before he pulled out of you. Looking down you saw him jerking himself off before ropes of cum hit your stomach. You where still shaking from your orgasm when you felt Joel line himself up behind you and thrust into your still fluttering pussy. 

Your eyes closed, whimpering as Joel fucked into you hard and fast. 

„Always so fucking good for me,“ he groaned behind you and you moaned. Lips were on yours and you opened your eyes to find Frank kissing you. His hand now replacing Joel’s on your clit. 

„You gonna cum for him again?“ Frank rasped. 

„I can’t….“ You whimpered. 

„You can. Cum for me. Cum for me and I’ll fill this little pussy up. Just the way you like it, baby….“ Joel moaned behind you. 

„Fuck,“ you moaned.

Within minutes (or seconds or hours you weren’t sure anymore) you were coming again, clenching Joel’s cock so hard he chocked on a groan, fucking into you a couple more times until he twitched inside of you and filled you with his cum. 

„Oh fuck,“ you felt his forehead rest against the back of your head. 

„Oh fuck indeed,“ Frank said and you looked at him. 

You were a sweaty tangled mess of limbs and you could not remember the last time you felt so… satisfied. 

Still trying to fill your lungs with air you hissed when Joel slowly pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping out of you. 

Humming, your eyes closed you snuggled into Joel’s chest, his arms around you and Frank hugging you both. 

You opened your eyes when you felt Frank move, giving you a shit eating grin as he slipped down the mattress, his face coming between your legs. You shuddered when you felt his tongue licking your pussy, cleaning you softly, humming like it was the most delicious meal. 

He pressed a kiss on your hip when he was finished, coming up to pull you close, leaning over your head to kiss Joel and then you. 

„That was….“ You began, trying to find words. 

„Should have done that sooner,“ Joel said and you chuckled. 

„Didn’t know that was an option,“ Frank said and you agreed. 

„Whatever my girl wants, she gets,“ Joel said, kissing your shoulder. 

You must have dozed of at some point, waking up cuddled against Joel’s chest, sheets covering your body. 

He was watching you. Joel had cleaned you up when Frank had said goodbye, not without telling him that it was time to get his head our of his ass and make things official with you. 

„Where’s Frank?“ You asked sleepily. 

„Left an hour ago. Told me to let you sleep,“ he whispered. 

You pouted. 

„Feel like I should have thanked him,“ you said and Joel chuckled. 

„You’ll see him next week. Bring him a fruit basked,“ he kissed your forehead. And you playfully slapped his chest. 

„Didn’t know you liked men too,“ you smiled. 

„What can I say? I’m full of surprises,“ he teased.

„Yes, yes you are,“ you sighed, kissing his chest. 

„Everything okay between us?“ You asked, half asleep. 

„Better than okay,“ he whispered just before you drifted back to sleep. 

A week later you were sitting at your desk in the trailer when the door opened and Joel walked in. He locked the door behind him and you grinned as he walked over. 

„Wanna have dinner with me tonight?“ He asked, as he walked over to you. 

„Like a date?“

„Like a date,“ he nodded, his hands coming to rest on your desk as he leaned towards you. 

„I’d like that,“ you whispered. 

„Great,“ he hummed, leaning down to kiss you softly. 

[avalikesf19]

A day at quadrant: LN4

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

I woke up late again today. The mornings aren’t made for me. I just can’t do it. I love the feeling of sinking into my bed for 20 hours. But I can’t today, I have 4 people with cameras recording waiting for me to bloody get up and start filming a video for quadrant. But I’m not complaining because this is my job and something I like to do. I try to be in most videos and do my part, but it’s not like Lando gets that mad if I miss a few videos, but from my fucked sleep schedule, I don’t think he will like if I miss another one after I skipped the last 3.

I realise the time and see Lando, Ria, Ethan, and Max spamming my phone to get on. Fucking hell. I don’t even think to get changed, i just checked all my lash extensions were on, tied up my hair, and brushed my teeth. I probably look like shit but I did this to myself. “Better late than never I guess” max says rudely to take the piss out of me. Everyone knows my bad sleep schedule and how moody I am in the morning and after he’s done that, I’m not having it.

“Sorry guys my alarm didn’t go off but I’m here now ahaha” you say trying not to make an unhinged comment to clap back at max. “Y/n girl I missed you where have u fucking been!” Ria says. Ria is my bitch, we ride together, we die together, Ria is my best friend. “Me too Ria!” I say back politely.

“Alright enough mucking about we have to record this video mate” Ethan jokingly says and makes Ria and I laugh. “What r we even playing again” i question. “we are playing gartic phone you muppet” Lando tries to say but starts laughing at Y/n. “Why r u laughing mate” I say confused then realise wtf I’m doing. I’m wearing my pajamas, not my normal pajamas my fucking tiny, tight lace top that could pass for a bra if you squint your eyes. It hits me and I shit myself realising I have a camera filming me and recording everything.

“Omg I’m so sorry fuck I forgot let me change” I panicked in saying quickly. “Who said to change” Lando bluntly says. I was stopped in your tracks. Excuse me? Lando? As if he just said that. “Um my tits are almost exposed on camera and i look like a hoe” I say. My manager is definitely gonna get me in trouble for that. “Woah y/n you fucking hottie” Ria says when she looks at me from my camera. I get nervous in my stomach and naturally run to go grab a hoodie, luckily i live in a small apartment so it didn’t take me long. “Um sorry guys sorry let’s just move on I forgot sorry sorry” i say nervously.

“Yeah alright let’s go I’ll send you the link Y/n” Ethan kindly says which is unlike him being a dickhead most of the time as a joke to piss me off. I like Ethan though I think he’s funny and actually caring about us all and our business. “So do we write a prompt then get someone else’s to draw and keep going” max says like he didn’t ask to play it. “Yeah but make it funny about us and f1 the viewers will fucking love it” Lando says. I still can’t believe what Lando said. I join the game and wait for everyone else to join. I started to feel the panic caving in on my chest and texted Lando.

lando wtf was that?

I send quickly

what was what?

He replied back

The fucking comment like I know I’m sorry and shouldn’t have worn that before chucking something on top but why did you say that Lando

I started to let everything out on accident, but I had every right to, he was my friend and said that I should not have changed from my top that was basically lingerie.

fuck I was just joking

He replied back bluntly.

Why do I feel sad that he said that. Did he think I looked bad in it? Did he think I was looking like a hoe? Fuck why did I talk to him like that he’s my boss!

“Alright we’re starting now lock in don’t say any dumb shit” Max says right before filming the intro and starting the game. I don’t know what prompt to write. Then I get an idea to do Ethan and ginge in the sauna with Lando from a video they did a week ago. I submit it and then recieve a prompt. I bursted out laughing when reading it in my head and looking at my atrocious drawing. It’s a drawing following the prompt of Max’s bunda blocking Landos old fiat jolly, but I drew their hair orange on accident. I kept playing the game and do a few more rounds and have a laugh until we stopped recording.

The rest of the day was pretty chill as I was tired and it was a week day so i stayed at home until I feel asleep watching a movie. I wanted to get sleep like I always do but extra sleep tonight because tomorrow we were all hanging out for lunch and a chat to talk about future video ideas. Was it bad I wanted to look really good? Surely not right?

I woke up and this time remembered to change my top. I picked out a cute off the shoulder knit long sleeve top and some jeans. They made me look good with my tanned skin and made me feel just as good. I straightened my hair, brushed my teeth, and did my makeup ready to go to the cafe we were meeting up at. We always watch the video our editor puts together while we meet up at the cafe spot every week, it’s basically a routine.

Ria and I hugged each other then went to the table both fashionably late. I saw Lando, Steve, Aarav, Max, and Ethan sitting there on the big table with two spots saved. One next to Steve, and one next to Lando. After my short blunt convo with Lando I decided I wanted to sit next to Steve, but that was overruled when Ria already sat down. Well fuck isn’t this awkward. Can I order a gun?

“Hi Y/n” he says looking at me. Why is my stomach already curling into a ball. “Um hi Lando” I say quietly. I am a bit too close to home for my liking as the table was a bit small but it’s fine. We all ordered our food and I ordered some avocado toast trying to be healthy and aesthetic knowing well I end up eating some of everyone else’s food lol. Lando like the child he is ordered pancakes.

“Im sorry about what i said yesterday, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything it just came out im sorry”. Lando says politely. Did I misinterpret his message? Why is he nice now? Why is my stomach tied up into knots? WHY AM I WEAK IN THE KNEES?

“Oh it’s all good I’m sorry idk why it didn’t click to change out of that fucking slutty top like a normal person” I blurt out. “Woah why are you so hard on yourself, calm down Y/n it’s completely fine and it was a nice top anyways, it looked good on you.” he said. EXCUSE ME? “Thanks?” I said confused. Thank fuck the food came otherwise I would have fainted at the awkwardness.

The food was good, Lando didn’t talk nor did I the rest of the lunch. Then we watched the video that came out. My heart sinks. The start of the video showing our cameras in the intro has me at the start or the whole morning, in that fucking top on YouTube. “Wait-fuck what why am I in there wearing that how did the editor get that clip it’s not even from the same time frame. I panicked. I was about to cry. All the comments were already flooding in hating on me saying I was attention seeking in that top. “Please get it down, please please ” I started crying already in Rias arms. Lando looked angry. “Who the fuck put that clip of her in it” he said angrily. He calls the editor who made the video on speaker. 0.00001 seconds after the editor answer Lando is already yelling.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PUT THAT CLIP OF Y/N YOU DIDNT EVEN ASK HER OR CARE YOU PURPOSELY DID IT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST DID! GET IT DOWN NOW”. Lando yells before hanging up knowing the editor got the message. I’m are still shaking and trying to not bawl your eyes out with just a few tears. “Lando it’s my fault you didn’t have to yell at him like that sorry” i say weakly. “NO ITS NOT YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT WAS FILMED AND CLIPPED YET AND HE PURPOSELY DID IT, ITS LIKE HE WANTED TO HURT YOU. FUCKING DICKHEAD”. Lando yells. Out of instinct i just run and give him a long hug. My head sinks to his chest. He holds me tightly as i hold onto him for a while.

I go back to your apartment that night. I’m just sad. Especially after reading all those comments about me. I try to ignore them all but they keep flooding in like rapid fire. I automatically give in and go on my phone. But to my confusion I’m getting tagged on twitter instead.

Fucking hell. When I thought this couldn’t get worse.

There is a video going around with hundreds of thousand of retweets already. It’s a sex tape of a girl which confuses me so I click onto it. Oh my god. It’s a deep fake of my face and that lacy bra thing on a random sex tape. I can’t do this anymore. I wish I didn’t exist. Naturally i call our quadrant group chat. Everyone answers immediately leaving me to realise they have seen it too. “Guys, I am fired” I say while bawling my eyes out. “Y/N I’m coming now with Lando” Ria says while in her car on her way to my apartment. I can’t even process what Ethan and Steve are saying cause my mind is just blurry and I’m a mess.

5 minutes later a knock is on my door and it’s Ria with Lando. I just cry in her arms and start rambling on about how my life is over. “Y/n that editor is going to jail, the YouTube vid is down and all of our socials are deactivated for now, talk to us if you need now” Lando says calmly to me. I just hug him tightly. “Can you tell everyone that’s obviously not me please” I say weakly. Ria is making me mac and cheese cause she knows it’s my favourite. “Of course I will and I will get this fixed Y/n for now just let us take care of you and get better.” Lando says. His touch is making me feel better if I’m being honest. “Thanks guys for coming over tonight, can you guys stay I’ll sleep on the couch and you guys take my bed” I say calmly as I’m starting to get her my bearings and feel a little better about everything.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” Lando and Ria both say straight away after my words. “Lando has a race next week so he should fuck his back up on the couch again like he did that one night he got drunk at the club last month” Ria says jokingly. “Is it okay if I’m in the bed with you?” Lando says maturely (shocking I know). “Yeah it’s fine if it is fine with you” I say back. “Yes it’s completely fine.” Lando replied quickly. I go to change into my pajamas. I see that bloody top. I don’t think twice after ripping it into pieces with my hands and teeth before chucking it out. “Fuck that ahahha” I said laughing as all the lace misses the bin but I ignore it. Ria Lando and I all start watching a movie together, Ria asks me which movie and I try to think of a normal movie I want to watch but I’m not sure why ratatouille is speaking out to me but I choose ratatouille like the wise mature person I am. Lando starts laughing obnoxiously which makes Ria and I start to as well. “It’s a good fucking movie shut up” I say defending myself laughing.

We are watching ratatoullie all together while I’m snuggled up in between Ria and Lando feelin comfortable and safe. My mind starts to forget a little bit about the stupid video situation. I don’t know why but my legs somehow ended up over landos. Whoopsies. I feel happy and safe with him, he had always been a good friend to me and always fun to be around. We all get tired after the movie ends and go to bed to sleep, well Ria goes to the couch to sleep.

Something inside of me wishes this isn’t the last time Lando is in my bed..

Should I finish this idk what I’m doing but I myself am going to bed too xx - author

thanks to these lovely authors who inspired me to write ahahahha:

@mariahcarreyyy @f1goat @uglyducklingofthe2000s @vivwritesfics

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32

He catches Eddie’s eye. Eddie shakes his head slowly, and Steve understands his meaning: don’t make it obvious.

Steve gives him a short nod, then his attention is arrested by Tommy, who’s storming up to him. “Harrington.”

“Hagan.”

Tommy’s eyes narrow. “He turn you fag or something?”

Steve laughs, loud and bold, and claps Tommy on the shoulder. “You’re funny,” he says, then quieter, “especially for how many times I’ve caught you staring at me.” He steps back and grins at Tommy, who’s white and rapidly turning red. “I never-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Steve says amiably. “It was Nathan, wasn’t it? Who you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. Does Carol know?”

Tommy comes at him swinging, and Steve barely dodges in time. “Yeesh, touchy. Guess it must be true, then. Y’know, you could talk to her about it. She might be down.”

Tommy swings again, and this time his knuckles catch Steve’s bottom lip. “Dammit,” he sighs, wincing when he tastes blood. “I was doing so good, too.” He moves to the side just as Tommy rushes him again, nudging him just the slightest bit to let his momentum carry him forward and onto his knees. He mentally thanks Nancy and physics homework, which isn’t really a sentence he ever thought he’d say.

“Okay, okay, break it up,” the gym teacher says, pulling Tommy up and glaring at both of them. “Do I want to know what’s going on?”

Their gym teacher, Mr. Craigs, is a forty-something-year-old veteran with the look in his eye to prove it. Anyone with a brain was at least a little bit scared of him.

“No, sir,” Steve says politely. “Sorry for causing a disturbance.”

He can feel Tommy seething with anger beside him. Mr. Craigs turns his gaze on Tommy, and Steve’s a little surprised he doesn’t start vibrating. “No. Sorry, sir,” Tommy grits out.

“Lets keep it that way,” Mr. Craigs orders, and both boys nod. “And Harrington, go wash that blood off.”

Steve wipes his lip. “Sorry, sir,” he says, and turns to do just that.

Somehow Eddie’s made it back to the locker rooms already, because he had time to find a rag and wet it before Steve walks in. He hands it over and stares as Steve dabs at his lip. “You’re kind of an idiot,” he says finally.

Steve snorts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs. “You’re also really brave. I don’t know that I’d have the guts to drop my friends like that.”

“The difference between us is your friends are good people,” Steve says, moving the rag and staring at himself in the mirror, replacing it when more blood seeps out. “My friends are dicks.”

Eddie just smiles at him. “Not anymore.”

Steve grins back, even though it stings. “Not anymore.”

“Still bleeding?” Eddie asks, inclining his head towards Steve’s lip. “You feeling dizzy at all? Maybe I should escort you to the nurse.”

Steve grins as Eddie does. “I think you might be right,” he says. “How many fingers’re you holding up, six?”

“Doesn’t sound right,” Eddie says seriously. “Might need to get you checked out.”

“Probably so,” Steve agrees. “Might need you to walk me back to class after.”

Eddie put a hand to his chest. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything differently!”

They collapse in giggles, Steve quickly sobering with a hiss when it re-opens the wound. “Dammit,” he mutters.

Eddie looks around then quietly asks, “Need me to kiss it better?”

Steve inhales sharply, studying Eddie for a second. “I think so,” he whispers. “Might be the only thing that helps it now.”

Eddie smiles nervously and steps forward. “We’ll have to be quick,” he says apologetically. “No one should come in, but…”

“We never know,” Steve agrees. “I know.”

“Okay then,” Eddie says, and steps forward, placing a few soft fingers on Steve’s cheek, tilting his head down just a bit until their lips brush, once, twice, three times until Steve’s had enough and puts a gentle hand on the back of Eddie’s neck, exerting just enough pressure to pull him in the rest of the way.

Immediately his eyes slide shut and he tilts his head to slot their lips together perfectly.

And it really is perfect, he thinks, as he tilts his head the other way, smiling when Eddie moves to follow him.

He pulls back with a gasp and grins when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, loving the smirk that curves Eddie’s lips up.

“Me?” Eddie asks. “I think you’re describing yourself.”

Steve suddenly giggles. “We’re doing a terrible job of waiting.”

Instead of laughing along, Eddie’s expression shutters. “Sorry,” he murmurs, tilting his head down and taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Hey, no,” Steve says, reaching out and brushing Eddie’s arm with his fingers. “I wanted that, okay? I could’ve said no and you would’ve respected it. I’m not upset about it at all. I, uh, actually wish we weren’t somewhere as public as we are.” He blushes at the admission and Eddie’s raised brow in response.

“Yeah? You gonna take me home? Show me the full Harrington experience?”

“Shit, man,” Steve laughs, “what experience, I’ve never been with a guy before.”

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[kaeyachi]

NEW CANON KAEYA TIDBITS FROM THE KAEYA HANGOUT PT. 1

The heavy lore post will be posted later! These ones are just more on his personality, likes and dislikes, and brief history hehehe

SPOILERS BELOW!!

I'm doing things in bullet point form coz wow there's a lot

Was the gentle and polite child! Also frequently got sick. Addie frequently took care of him in those times hehe. Is it possible that this is because of his experiences prior to getting to Mond? Travelling as a child would have made him vulnerable to tougher weather and rapidly at that. I doubt that food comes easy too. Additionally, HE WAS LEFT IN A STORM. I still think Kaeya is gentle and polite, though he definitely gives the face of charming and sly (if it benefits him and it works then might as well keep it going!)

Kindness is so inherent in him that he automatically does kind acts. He only acts like he has an ulterior motive, and tbh? I bet that act is only to keep people away. I think I made a oneshot about this saying his biological father may be worried about this tendency? Or something similar. Worryingly enough, Kaeya clearly has a hard time accepting words of affirmation from literally everyone. Heartbreaking to see in action.

Diluc is a menace, asking Kaeya to help him in his mischief, tsk. Kaeya apparently also helps Diluc in the punishments he receives. Kaeya ended up doing the most of it :( (what are the odds of Kaeya also doing Diluc's paperwork while said redhead was out on the field? What if the reason Kaeya wasn't with Diluc and Crepus during that one fateful 18th birthday because he was covering for Diluc's shift...). Tbh? Kaeya never stopped covering for Diluc. Even now, he is still covering for Diluc (DKH).

This one set off alarms in my mind. Kaeya was apparently not a very good liar when he was younger. I now definitely think that Crepus knew Kaeya lied about his origins. The question is, did Diluc know Kaeya was not a strong liar before their fight? Or did he remember afterwards and was immediately faced with even more guilt?

He might actually have a sweet tooth! Dear god look at the number of desserts he ordered. Do note that Death Afternoon is a mixture that lessens the bitterness of Dandelion Wine. Additionally, Kaeya wasn't interested in wine when he was younger, he only grew into it because it reminds him of home after he left :( The Cider Lake drink is also sweet! And I'm guessing plain chicken mushroom skewers weren't sweet enough, so he decided to add fruits to it. I THINK CREPUS ACCIDENTALLY GOT HIM INTO LIKING ALCOHOL AFTER CREATING THE CIDER LAKE DRINK LMAO. Crepus suceeding in preventing alcohol intake from one child and ended up giving it to the other

Fairly sure he was being flirted on here by an entire group of mercenaries and just didn't realize which would make things extremely funny. They saw him and immediately went "we need to see that body in the dance floor ASAP". What if he doesn't realize he is being flirted on until he is slapped in the face with a confession? It's also funny if he flirts up a storm and not realize people are flirting back lmao

So I was right... he was not kicked out. He moved out on his own. Diluc is fine with him frequenting Dawn Winery, expects it even (lol my short 1 shot makes sense now). The staff keep asking him to come back and visit more frequently. Adelinde says that Kaeya is always part of the family. They become so happy when Kaeya comes back, it's like a weight is lifted off of everyone's chests. IT'S KAEYA WHO KEEPS SAYING HE'S A GUEST AND SEPARATING HIMSELF OUGH. He's the one trying to stay away after all :((( Let's summarize this: Kaeya was the sickly, quick to bruise, kind, gentle, and polite child who everyone in the staff (and Diluc) adores and still treats like he is their baby, but said baby of the family KEEPS LEAVING. Go home Kaeya!

Klee keeps looking for Kaeya! And Kaeya reads her bedtime stories!!! Hearing her voice ask where Kaeya was broke my heart, I think I'd like that used for angst purposes. Kaeya is once again letting a mischievous pyro user get away with causing mischief. Kaeya you enabler lmaaaoooo. Kaeya frequently rescues Klee from solitary confinement, done so enough times that Klee now does the same for him (I bet she thinks Kaeya is in solitary confinement whenever he's busy doing paperwork). Not to Kaebedo/Albekae you guys (I am Kaebedo/Albekae-ing you guys), but I'm fairly sure Kaeya and Albedo spend so much time together with Klee. Again, frequent enough that Albedo has tons of drawings of Kaeya (the 3 brushstrokes is a popular meme, but it actually is just a way to say that he has drawn Kaeya a lot. Bet he could draw Kaeya with his eyes closed haha). HE GOT THEM MATCHING GIFTS THATS ADORABLE

Speaking of gifts, he's a great gift giver! He really listens to people's needs and wants. What a thoughtful man (Diluc was right in his letters in hidden strife though. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF KAEYA). Speaking of, I'm guessing Kaeya is rich? Because I'm fairly sure the gifts were bought with his own pocket money and thus the huge amount of travel funds remaining (the gifts are expensive, surely it should have put a dent to the said funds had he used them)

THAT IS ALL FOR NOW, I MIGHT MAKE A PART 2 BECAUSE I WANT TO TACKLE MORE STUFF BUT THE PHOTO LIMIT GOT TO ME

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ [2, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 13k for parts 1+2 a/n: two weeks of brainrot later

The reflection in the tall store mirror looks like a mirage—an almost tangible fantasy. It’s you—enough, your eyes, nose, skin and hair. But the fabric wrapped around your body, a breath-taking sanguine hue, it distorts your perception. 

You stood in silence, captivated by your own self-reflection. A delicate diamond necklace adorned your neck, its shimmer accentuating the sparkle in your eyes. You touch it delicately, trying to make the woman in the mirror feel real. 

In a fleeting moment, you try not to think about the price tag on either item. Below you, the dress slits at your right thigh, stopping perfectly just before your ankles. You typically abhor dresses, frustrated by how they sit on your hips or pull on your shoulders. Yet this one felt different, as was crafted just for you, hugging your short frame.

“Do you not like it?” Tony's firm voice interrupted your reverie, seated in a plush armchair nestled in the corner of the dressing area. 

His own reflection caught your eye in the mirror. He too was impeccably dressed in expense— a midnight suit that mirrored the shadowy desire in his eyes. It was only then that you noticed the crimson tie around his neck, perfectly matched to your dress. A forgotten pit in your stomach sinks further at the realization.

You weren’t here exactly by choice. You’d met Tony a few weeks ago while bartending and since then, he hadn’t left you alone. Initially, he had left his phone number scrawled on a napkin, which you promptly ignored. Such advances from inebriated, lonesome men were all too familiar— their attempts at wooing the bartender often aimed at securing complimentary drinks or borne from relationship troubles that had led them to the bar in the first place.

They all normally moved on after one night, but not Tony. 

Tony came back three nights in a row after, making pass after pass, calling you doll and honey through whiskey-tinted lips. You had been polite in declining him, partly because you had googled him after a $300 tip on the second night and realized who he was (some hot-shot CEO with a few legal issues you chose not to look into). But also because, against your better judgment, a small, insignificant part of you didn't want to decline. His appearance in the bar made your night infinitely more enjoyable. Funny enough, you’re certain his charisma was so enigmatic it spread the room and raised everyone’s mood. 

Unlike your typical patrons, Tony possessed an undeniable allure, an allure that kept you talking and pouring drinks—well past closing time. Perhaps because your usual patrons didn't leave extravagant tips or wear thousand-dollar watches. More likely, was how easy it was to talk to him about anything . Local politics, the nature of friendship, European art- it didn’t matter. 

On top of it all, there was no denying how attractive he was—towering over you with silk ties and shiny grins. Despite whatever attraction you held, you knew better than to get involved with him. Something told you he wasn’t worth the trouble, not to mention he was almost 20 years your senior. 

Still, every night ended the same, with Tony insisting he take you on just one date. You’d give a kind smile, flip the sign to closed , and craft a polite but convoluted (and reluctant) excuse. This passive resistance only seemed to encourage him, possibly because he saw through you, recognizing that tiny part of you that longed to say yes.

Maybe it’s what gave him carte blanche to wait outside on the fourth night until you closed the bar—alone. 

As you stepped into the cool night air, a sleek black car glided to a halt beside you. You thought nothing of it, locking the door behind you and starting your usual, albeit long, trek home. You glanced back at the sound of the passenger window rolling down, revealing Tony leaning over the center console, a playful smile on his face. Quieting the alarm bells in your head, you offered a curt wave and resumed your stride.

As you do, Tony calls out your name, gesturing you over. At the time, you hoped all he wanted to do was exchange some small talk or maybe he left something in the bar yesterday. You couldn't fathom why you obeyed, heading towards the open window instead of heading home. Just like now, Tony's true intentions were unknown. You convinced yourself that the worst he could do was ask you out again and make things awkward.

“Miss me?” he asks with that same flashy grin. His gaze roams over your simple jeans and t-shirt, heavy enough to make you feel exposed.

“Everything okay?” You choose to ignore his question to hopefully get to the reason he’s here after hours. 

Under the parking lot’s harsh fluorescent lights, Tony's disappointment shines. 

"Everything's fine," he replied in a sing-song tone, reaching across to open the passenger door. "Come on, let me give you a ride home."

The alarm bells grow louder, leaving you to stammer over your words.

“That’s generous, thank you, but I enjoy the walk.” A good lie holds a little truth to it, right?

Tony does a disapproving, almost condescending tsk , patting the empty leather seat. 

“Now, what kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl like you walk home all alone?”

Despite the rhetorical nature of his question, you struggled to resist the urge to retort, to point out that allowing you to walk home alone would make him appear rather ordinary—a quality he clearly sought to avoid.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You try to sound more assertive this time, but your voice still wavers under his gaze.

Tony continues to insist, using every persuasion tactic in the book. Your mind whirled with a flurry of thoughts and possibilities. After all, he was a familiar face, a regular patron who had never made you necessarily afraid (normally quite the opposite). And a highly respected businessman. Plus, eight hours of tending bar left your feet aching. You did like the solemnity of the long walk, but tonight you were dreading it a bit more than usual.

What was the worst that could happen?

So, you inevitably gave in, watching his smirk stretch into another toothy grin as you opened the passenger door. Tony’s cologne saturated the plush leather interior, filling every corner of your nostrils with bergamot. In the dim car, you grant him a meek smile.

“That’s my girl,”

There’s an edge in his words, suddenly forcing you to wonder if you were better off walking. You tell yourself he’s a handsome billionaire doing his charitable act for the week-nothing more. 

Tony reaches for the gearshift, rolling your window up and muffling the sounds of the city. 

“Let’s get you home.”

The worst turned out to be not so bad—still stunned by your own beauty in the mirror. 

At first, you were nearly mortified when you noticed Tony’s route doesn’t quite follow the directions you gave. With a dry throat and skipping heart, you struggled to find the right words. Tony had remained unusually silent, not making witty quips or heavy-handed compliments. It worsened your unease. One he must have sensed, glancing over at you.

“Don’t worry,” he draws out, making yet another unknown turn. “I’m taking you home— just have a surprise for you first, dear.” he finishes, winking. 

The vulnerability you knew you had—getting in this car alone with him—it swelled in your throat.

Now, you stared at that same throat, adorned with shimmering diamonds. 

Tony’s surprise turned out to be a private fitting at some lavish boutique you never knew existed. 

You tried to protest as the car pulled into the storefront, noticing a lack of light inside and still cautious about what he had planned. Tony simply gave you a stern shush, and pointed your attention back to the building. Then, to your astonishment, the windows filled with orange and white hue. Out of the ornate glass doors, a tall, blonde-haired woman peered, and a wave of fear suddenly ebbed away from your body, only to be replaced by a flood of bewildering confusion.

The blonde woman, whose name you can’t pronounce, devotes a half hour measuring every aspect of your body. She swatched an array of dark hues and fabrics against your skin, contorted and posed you in every conceivable manner. Despite the weird, yet so far, non-hazardous situation you were in, a cloud of confusion still clung to your thoughts, while Tony remained outside the dressing room. 

Even still, you felt entirely too exposed, waiting anxiously. Your only recourse was to gaze at the marble ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell Tony was playing at. He wasn’t particularly eccentric all those nights at your bar, you figured he had to be more level-headed and reasonable than this. 

The woman eventually reappeared, holding the tight red dress on a satin hanger.

Leading to your mesmerized trance, still engulfed in the mirage before you.

“Hey, talking to you there.” 

Startled, you had forgotten he'd even asked you a question. Hell, you had forgotten he brought you here at all. Worse, you didn’t know what to say. The honest answer was an unequivocal yes – you adored the dress, but you knew alone it cost more than you ever made bartending, not to mention the necklace. 

The pit in your stomach churned at the reminder of Tony’s presence. The beauty you saw in the mirror suddenly felt ill-gotten- like a bill you hadn’t paid. Technically, you were brought here against your will by a man who you, although reluctantly, rejected. An unforeseen product of his infectious smile and your polite demeanor. 

You reluctantly turn slightly to face him, trying to find the words to get out of this without escalation. A shiver ran down your spine as his molten gaze traversed your form, causing your face to warm.

“I think you look stunning.” he says, gaze still fixed on your body. It wasn’t unusual for Tony to compliment you, as he often did at the bar regardless of whatever tired, stained state you were in. This time though, with the way he’s staring, it does something else to you.

“Thank you, but,” you trail off, stealing a quick glance back in the mirror. “I–It’s a bit out of my price range.”

Tony scoffs playfully, giving a dismissive wave as he rises from the armchair.

“It’s on me.” he declared, slow and deliberate as your nerves spike.

“Really, thank you, but I can’t accept this. I should be getting home.” you stammered, attempting to keep a level voice.

Your words tumbled out in a rush, but Tony continued, making your heartbeat escalate with each passing moment. 

To your surprise, he stops his advance to sigh at your anxious form. 

“ You are worth a million times that dress and more.” 

You avert your eyes to the floor, left again without the right words to maneuver out of this awkward conversation and trying to ignore the heat on your skin.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, doll.” Tony’s voice shifts to an unfamiliar tone, one that forces your head up.

“What’s with the whole ‘ uninterested ’ act?” he hums, resuming his walk towards you.

You stammer, trying to deny his accusation, knowing wholeheartedly he was right. Tony came to a stop in front of you, reaching out to caress your shoulder. As you instinctively recoil from his sudden touch, his calloused hand stiffened to hold you in place. 

“I’m not acting .” you finally manage with a wavering voice valiantly ignoring the want and fear his touch stirred in you.

“Oh, is that so?” he taunts sourly, bringing his free hand to your waist. “Why’d you get in the car then? Why are you letting me touch you?”

You don’t have an excuse for that one, staring back at Tony in silence. You could try and hate his arrogance, but that hasn't worked so far, so no point trying now. 

“Just take me home, okay?” you whisper, eyes flickering between Tony’s hand and his slightly parted lips.

He makes a face at your words, eyebrows scrunching and mouth turning into frown. 

“You think I’d hurt you?” Tony sighs, offended. He releases your arm out of his grasp and steps back from you. Still, he maintains the closeness between you, still locked on your eyes.

Instantly, you feel terrible for assuming the worst. Sure, you didn’t exactly ask for any of this, and maybe he was persistent, but all he had done was give you a dress and a ride home. Tony had ample opportunity to do whatever he wanted, and you were fine. And nothing he’d said had been wrong . So what exactly were you worried about?

“No, no,” you quickly scramble, shaking your head. “I just—what do you want from me?”

Tony sighs again, this time deeply, shoving his hands into his suit pockets. “Told you—a date, that’s all.”

“Really? You’re really doing all this just to take me out?” You asked in confusion. 

“You keep saying no even though I can tell you want to. ‘Figured you could use a little push.” He chuckles and a hand leaves his pockets to rake through his brown locks.

“I-I, why all this, really, come on-what are you playing at here?” You gesture to your outfit, still in disbelief.

“What can I say, I’m all about presentation and you deserve the best.” Tony grins, making his second attempt to stroke your cheek. This time, you let him, even if you're not sure why. Maybe persistence did work best on you. 

Regardless, you roll your eyes at the honeyed words. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s still waiting for a yes , and you’re running out of logical reasons to decline. God knows the idea of a date with Tony Stark was something any other woman would jump at. So why not you?

“I work nights , Tony—”

“How much?” He cuts you off sharply, the hand on your face tenses ever so slightly.

“What, I don’t—”

“How much do you make in a night? Hourly, tips, everything—how much?” 

You’re starting to think he enjoys confusing you. “I don’t know, it varies. Maybe $200 on a good night?” 

With that, Tony turns back to the armchair his jacket rests on, and you have to ignore the way the loss of his touch makes you feel. He fiddles with the garment for a moment, rummaging through the pockets until he produces a thin leather wallet. As five crisp hundred dollar bills emerge, he struts back to you.

“Here, now you can call in tomorrow night.” He says matter-of-factly, holding out the bills. 

You scoff at his audacity, feeling a bit offended at his demeanor. “I’m not some product you can just buy.”

“Oh, doll, don’t think so low of yourself,” he chuckles, “Your time is valuable, I’m just hoping this makes it easier for you to spend it with me.” 

The paper is folded between his fingers, before he takes your hand and places them inside. When in doubt, fall back to basics. Money normally fixes most problems. You could have said any number and he would’ve made it happen. He was nothing short of infatuated with you- so no cost was too high. 

“Fine.” You respond indignantly, staring at what’s easily half of your rent before glaring back up at him. If a date was all he wanted— fine . If he turned out to be a huge dick you’re expecting, you could leave and never speak to him again. You're certain he at least wouldn’t keep showing up at your workplace after. 

“We’ll see how much longer you can keep up this act.” He smirks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just as you're preparing to tell (lie) him again that you weren’t pretending, he walks back to the chair and takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

“Go ahead and change, I’ll have everything wrapped up for you to take home tonight. You can be ready by 7 tonight, yes?” Tony doesn’t look at you when he speaks, fingers typing away on the electronic screen.

He misses the eye roll you give walking back to the dressing room. 

Sure enough, you make it home without any bodily injuries or traumatic experiences. Tony kisses your hand when you go to exit the car, dress and jewelry in tow. He reminds you to be ready on time tomorrow, and you enter your apartment feeling like you just walked out of a movie. 

This felt entirely too insane. You found yourself more than lucky all those nights he flirted with you, but this took the cake. 

It’s nearly 5 in the morning when you toss the dress onto your green couch. The half-finished canvas and paintbrushes in the corner of your living room go abandoned for another night. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, replaying every detail in your head. Instead, you find yourself sat on the worn cushions, staring at the lilac bag, adorned with the boutique’s fancy name in silver lettering. Next to it, sits a smaller version, possessing a white box. You’re fixated on the bags, mentally picturing your reflection from earlier. 

Contrary to what might Tony believe, you didn’t think of yourself as ‘low’, just maybe not genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist levels. Self-confidence wasn’t something you were lacking, but it wasn't in extreme surplus either. You didn’t know his type, but you figured odds are you weren’t it. You could imagine the kinds of girls Tony could get, with a lot less hassle, too. So, why you ? 

Eventually, the sounds of your roommate waking fills the apartment, forcing you to realize it’s around 6:30 and your mind’s been taken over with purple and red hues for too long. You give a short good morning and abandon the couch for the comfort of your bedroom, deciding to save the shower for later and get some sort of rest. 

You don’t answer when she asks about the bags, convinced you’ll wake up in a few hours and find this was all a weird dream.

The train rushing by your window wakes you before your alarm gets the chance, blaring its incessant tune throughout the small space. The afternoon sun diffuses through the sheer curtains, covering the room in golden light. It gives you a peaceful few minutes where you’re groggy enough to forget about Tony.

Then, the memories pour in. 

The night plays back in resplendence. You don’t know he managed to get you to agree after all that. A tinge of excitement filled you alongside the dread. 

You hoped last night for it to all turn out as fiction, but lo behold, the shiny bags sit atop your dresser like a bad omen. Poking out from your purse are the crisp bills. A cursory glance at your phone reveals two things— one, it’s almost 4 pm and two, a text from an unsaved number.

[ hope you didn’t forget. see u soon. ]

You wondered where on Earth he got your number. 

As much as you hated feeling you owed him something, a part of you was glad you did. Although you didn’t plan on admitting it, you were into him. You were just convinced his behavior was too good to be true, a precursor to something worse. Plus it bugged you that it was apparently impossible for you to hide it from him.

Nonetheless, you rise from your bed, heading for the shower you skipped earlier and thinking of a response.

[ 9 pm right? ] 

The bathroom door creaked as it opened, drowned out by the traffic on the street below. 

[ are you this difficult with everyone? ]

Water spouts from the shower head as a dry chuckle echoes in the chamber at his response. You hadn’t actively dated in a while, but it was a common complaint. Normally they would say stubborn or strong-headed, but difficult worked too. 

You work through several different waves of nerves and anticipation as the clock ticks down to 7. Your boss, ever an asshole, wasn’t thrilled about you calling off. It almost made you reconsider, tell Tony you couldn’t. Something told you he wouldn’t appreciate that, though, so you stood your ground with your boss instead of him and got the night off. 

When the time came to slip the red dress on again, you felt off. At the store, the lighting and lavish background only added to your beauty. In the dim, run-down atmosphere of your apartment, you’re out of place, like a fraud. The browns and greens drown the shimmer on your neckline, reminding you that you had no business dating someone like Stark. 

Your mind’s saving grace is the buzz of your phone, a text from the punctual Tony, arriving right at 6:58. 

You expected the veil to be pulled from your eyes. Tony’s true nature, whatever that may be, would be revealed and all his charm would fade away. Clearly, something was wrong with him to go after some bartender, to go after you. The date would go sour, he would move on, and your life could continue as planned.

Instead, you end up having one of the best nights of your life. 

The restaurant is indescribably out of your depth. It’s clearly a popular romantic site for A-listers, with mostly couples filling the warmly lit dining area. Everything seemed meticulously prearranged— the host leading you two towards a tucked away booth just at the sight of Tony. You're worried he’d be overly touchy and make you uncomfortable, but instead his hand rests against the small of your back as you navigate to your table. 

He was nothing short of a perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair and pouring your wine. Conversation flowed just as it did at work, at least once you got your nerves out of the way. You learned a bit more about Stark Industries, even though he was clearly skipping some details for reasons you were too enamored to think about. 

Occasionally during the dinner, people would come up and exchange a few words with Tony, and he always introduced you. There was something about the level of attention that just pulled you in. You had started to think you were overthinking this whole thing, that maybe something nice could come out of this. If wooing you was the goal, he was well on his way to success. 

As the final bites of dessert lingered on your plate, a subtle disappointment crept in, acknowledging the inevitable conclusion of the evening. It had been an embarrassingly long time since you'd gone out for a night like this, and you wished you’d agreed sooner. 

The idea of shedding the vibrant sanguine dress and returning to the routine of crafting dry martinis the next night sounded more dreadful than ever.

Yet, that’s exactly what you did. 

When Tony drives back and walks you to your apartment door, you half-hope he’ll ask you on another date, and half-fear he’ll try and make a move. To your surprise and disappointment he does neither, opting instead to tell you what a wonderful time he had before departing. 

You feel a bit foolish for expecting anything more, closing your door with a heavy sigh. Your roommate seems to read your emotions on your face, deciding it best not to ask why you were dressed like that. 

The remaining hours of the night pass with you getting ready for bed and staving off sleep to not wake too early for work. Every so often, the urge overwhelms you to see if Tony texted. Teeth brushed— no text, shower—nothing, late night popcorn snack—nope. Every time you look, you grow more annoyed, feeling like some sort of teenage schoolgirl.  

By the time your head hits the pillow, you’re close to desperation. 

When you wake, it doesn’t take a few minutes for Tony to come to mind. He’s the first thing you think of. You groan in frustration when your notifications disappoint you again. Two texts from your roommate about her night out, a missed call from a friend, and a few emails, but no Tony.

You really do try to make it through the afternoon without thinking about him. You fail regardless, spending every second of the day consumed by bergamot and red. The one thing that keeps you from reaching out first is the certainty you’ll see him this evening. He’ll saunter in, order a single malt and overpay. The script unfolds in your mind—engaging conversations that span the night, and it’ll end with another pass made your way. This time, you won’t hesitate to say yes. 

The hours at work tick by painfully as you wait for him to show up. For the first time, you’re doing terribly at work. Wrong servings are poured as your eyes bounce between the bar's entrance and the mocking hands of the clock. 

Inevitably, you switch the sign to closed . A sliver of hope remains, hinged on the small chance he could appear outside as he did before. And still, he doesn’t.

Self-doubt starts to overtake you. Maybe you said the wrong thing, or did something abnormal that made him suddenly change course.

Once you're home, your resolve breaks, and you open the messages app in an act of desperation. 

[ thanks again for the other night  ] 

As soon as you hit send, you’re convinced it’s single-handedly the stupidest text ever sent. Before you can think of what to add on to repair it, your phone buzzes.

[ not a problem ]

[ i had a good time, nice place ]

[ miss me already huh ]

[ who said anything about that? ] 

[ thought you weren’t interested, but look whos texting me ]

[ yeah, to say thx ]

[ you said that when i dropped you off. gonna have to try harder doll ]

How did someone so arrogant manage to have you swooned?

[ fine. maybe i did. ]

[ see, was that so hard? ]

With a huff, you crawl into bed. You weren’t the romantic type by any measure. Your romantic philosophy entailed waiting for the right person to come into your life. Naturally, you assumed what everyone said was true—that’d you know the one when you saw it. In the case of Tony, it wasn't a lightning-strike love at first sight, but rather a rapid realization that there was an intangible something about him. Excluding the early worries over his intentions, he spread this sense of ease throughout you whenever he was around. 

On Tony’s side, it was more akin to obsession at first sight. He’d had decades of escapades under his belt, all incomparable to you. A limited edition, one of a kind, breathtaking woman he knew he couldn’t let slip away. 

You were a fresh breath of air in his world of tragedy. People in his sphere were usually tainted by it, but not you. You didn’t have some preconceived, inflated notion of him.  He was happy to recognize the mutual attraction. Unfortunately for him, you being from outside of his world meant losing you if you found the wrong information at the wrong time. 

He felt you deserved a life without the grime and troubles of everyone else. He just knew that’d only be possible with him . He just had to keep a few things from you for a little while. Long enough for you to be too committed to leave.

Tony learned at a young age that planning is the key to everything, so that’s precisely what he does. 

The lack of interaction was a purposeful step on his part, only partially. There was little fun in biting back the urge to talk to you again, to kiss you goodbye at the door, but he knew it was the best method to have you hooked. Originally, he meant to visit the bar once more tonight, see if your face brightened up when he walked in. That plan is foiled by an unmovable meeting, which keeps him occupied until close. You just happened to beat him to the text. 

For you, the date served as a testament that he wasn't some idealized, too-good-to-be-true fantasy. It wasn't a dream; it was a tangible reality and you found yourself unwilling to let it slip away. The initial worries had given way to what you prayed was something genuine.

[ so do u often take people on one date then ghost or is it just me? ]

[ doll, i don’t bore myself or waste my time with people i don’t enjoy. ]

[ i’m sure there’s better options for you ]

[ not better than you ]

[ hows that?  ]

[ i’ll tell you if you agree to see me again ]

In the dark of your room, the message illuminates your face, stirring the anticipation in your gut. This is what you wanted, the perfect opportunity. 

[ deal . ]

From then on, you and Tony find yourselves going out a few times each week. Whether it's another intimate dinner or museum, Tony consistently showers you in gifts—ranging from exquisite jewelry to coveted concert tickets. He makes jokes about making even more grandiose gestures, like moving you to a better neighborhood or getting you a car so you don’t have to walk home at night. Despite the overwhelming generosity, you can't help but feel weird at the unfamiliarity of it all, lamenting that they aren’t necessary (though you never admit how much you were beginning to love it). 

Nonetheless, Tony remains steadfast in reassuring you, emphasizing that the smile on your face is worth any amount. There’s little doubt to this, given he hasn’t made a move beyond kissing your cheek a few times. You’d like to think someone with ill-intentions would move a bit faster. 

His charismatic nature continues, enveloping you in a world of affection and companionship beyond your wildest expectations. He treats better than you could ever fathom, and asks for seldom in return. Stark handles every detail, every direction providing you with much needed mental relief. 

The thing you’re most grateful for is the ease of it all. It’s easy to indulge in him, to agree to his few, but necessary stipulations ( don’t spend my money poorly , answer when I call , be honest with me , etc. etc.) They were much milder, and more enjoyable, than ones you had in past relationships. Your most recent ex? He’d ask for a photo of your timecard from work, paranoid you were sleeping around. 

However, it takes a while for you to shake off the nagging suspicion that he’s just playing the long game. Your relationships had often ended in emotional horror for at least one side, and you dreaded a repeated end. Gradually, though, you feel more secure, even as he pulls you more and more out of your comfort zone. 

Although it didn’t really help you understand where his money came from, he brought you along to company dinners and fundraisers. These outings, while a testament to the serious nature of his work, become less enjoyable for you. Mostly because Tony’s line of work seemingly employs nothing but the most annoying of the 1%. 

He has a terrible habit for making you feel like (and dress you like) fine art. Yet, amid a room of stunning women with envious glares directed at you and Tony, you feel like second-rate trash, despite the arm draped on his meant to signify your belonging. It didn’t help that at the end of the day you and Tony never put a name to what you were, and you had no idea who he was with when you were apart. 

It doesn’t harm the connection too much for you, but it does lead to your first argument after a blissful first month. 

Truthfully, it’s mostly your fault. You’d gotten a bit more than jealous at some socialites' snide remarks about Tony being with someone so young and ‘rudimentary’, as she deemed. You blame the alcohol for tossing your drink in her face. Tony had warned you before about keeping positive appearances, but oh well. Vodka has a tendency to do nefarious things. 

The entire car ride back, Tony gets a number of phone calls, leaving you the sinking feeling you’ve angered the wrong person. There’s something semi-terrifying on every inch of his face as he talks in terms you don’t understand. The calls don’t stop until long after you make it back to the tower. You’re seated on a leather couch in his office, anxiously preparing your explanation for what happened. 

At the end of what he hopes is the last call, he turns to you. The look in his eye disintegrates whatever words you had mustered together. 

“What were you thinking?” he asks harshly, but with a low tone as if he’s trying not to sound as pissed as he truly was. 

“Tony, I didn’t think it would-”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, holding his hand up in a quieting manner. There’s a few beats of silence, where you’re wretched with guilt, not even knowing fully what you did wrong. 

“My associates are not people to mess with, honey. You need to be able to control yourself. Your little show almost ruined a deal I’ve been working on for months.”

“My little show ? You didn’t hear what she was saying and how was I supposed to know-”

“That’s my mistake for expecting you to have thicker skin than that.” Tony reprimands, his eyes reflecting an anger that leaves a mixed feeling in your gut. .

“You’re right, next time a woman starts talking about how better off you’d be with someone else, I’ll go ahead and give them your number. God knows you live for the fucking attention.” you retort, tears of frustration burning in the back of your eyes as you stand to head for the elevator. 

Tony moves from his spot in the middle of the room to cut you off, blocking your path out. 

“If you’re gonna act like a jealous brat, at least have the guts to admit it. Don’t try and make it about me.” His voice keeps its edge, standing close enough to force you to look up to meet his eyes. 

He’d never been so much as annoyed by you, and the anger in his dark irises was unbearable. Behind the darkness is something else, a heat that trails down your lips. Still, the sourness in the room is enough to make you repentant. 

“I,” you sigh, averting his eyes to stare at your heels. “I’m sorry, okay?” Your voice is small and shameful under his gaze. 

Tony’s hand meets the bottom of your chin, tugging your head back up. 

“Look at me.” he says sternly, and you’re reminded of the boutique that feels lightyears in the past. The touch twists your shame cruelly into a tight knot. 

At the sight of your watering eyes, his expression softens. A flared temper had been a life-long condition, but his last wish was letting it off on you. There was something about the way you underestimate your value to him, it makes him want to stop holding back—show you just how badly he needed you. He’d done a piss poor job of keeping you isolated from this side of his life, but it couldn’t be undone, and you needed to be able to handle it. And a sobering part of you knew you were overreacting, at least a little bit.

“You can never do something like this again, are we clear?” 

You nod, taking a deep breath. A calloused thumb strokes your face, rendering every word he said null. 

“That’s my girl.”

It reassured you that this had to be a one-off situation-a unique, heat of the moment event that caused everyone to act out of character, not just him.

In the morning, the full weight of his words hits you like a brick wall. You do a bit of mental gymnastics on yourself, flipping between blaming yourself for Tony’s reaction and blaming him for behavior. Ultimately, at the battle’s end, you let the blame reside with you. 

The next few weeks are a return to your new normalcy, turning any thoughts of ending things unnecessary. Aside from that night, Tony’s allure didn't stop, and it became safe to say you were falling, rapidly. You texted and called nearly constantly whenever you weren’t together, not that Tony seemed to mind at all (it helped that he was never far from his phone). It was clear Tony did all he could to make your outings last longer, but eventually one of you (typically Tony) absolutely has to head home. 

You’re left with a somber emptiness every time, waiting to see Tony to feel whole again. The level of care you were showered in was, well, addictive. There was enough to ignore the ambiguity surrounding whatever your relationship was, and what his life was like outside of you. Trust wasn’t exactly your strong suit, so an occasional strife happens whenever you think about it too long. It still tested his patience, and resolve, irately wishing you’d take him at his word just once. 

Something poetic could be said about rose-colored glasses and red flags.

One spring night, the rain grows far beyond what Tony’s outdoor plans can accommodate. Not wanting to cancel, he moves the date to an art gallery. There’s no hiding your excitement, and Tony expected as much. He was saving this location for another time, but you sound far too happy on the phone to regret it. 

Unsurprisingly, the night goes just as fantastic as any other with Tony. You loved art in nearly any form, and dreamed of creating pieces worthy of hanging in a gallery. This one though, is unlike any you’ve ever seen, a high-ceiling bright open space, with prices starting in the six figures. 

They’re all worth the price to you, elaborate shapes and colors sitting in huge antique frames. Like any other night, he occasionally slips away for a phone call, or you’ll turn to see him typing away another email or memo. It’s not frequent enough to bother you, and either way you accept it as an occupational hazard of seeing someone like him. Besides, you were too busy enjoying the art to care. 

Tonight though, you feel bold enough to dig into it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Tony pocket his phone for the fourth time in a half hour, striding back over to you with a grin. You were transfixed by the painting in front you, having stared at it for the last fifteen minutes. It was a mirage of playful colors, swirling and fading down to a dusky abyss. Two faint abstract shapes floated in the gradient, seemingly intertwined and bursting outwards. You’re certain Tony will give you grief for fawning over what probably looked like kindergarten work. 

“I could just buy it for you, then you could stare at it all day.” he taunts once he’s in ear shot, looping his arm through yours. 

You laugh back at him, resuming your slow stride through the rest of the quiet gallery. 

“It’s like eight feet tall, no way it’s making it up my stairs in one piece.” you laugh, “You absolutely have to buy something for yourself, though. Something that, y’know, inspires you.” you say playfully, stopping to get a better look at another piece. 

“You are the only muse I need.” 

He plants a kiss on your forehead when you roll your eyes at his saccharinity, letting you slip away. You really were all the motivation he needed, especially if you kept wearing tight black skirts like the one you're wearing now. When you finally turn back to him, his hands are occupied again, typing away incessantly.

“What kind of company do you run that they can’t survive without you for a few hours?” you taunted playfully. You’d idly clicked your heels on the dark stone floor, studying the machinations of his face, trying to get a sense of what transpired in his head. 

The phone is switched off in his hands, abandoned in his pocket before beaming at you.

“A very important one.” he drawls, circling the soft skin behind your exposed collarbone with his fingertips. The padded digits trail around in random shapes, inkling up your neck slowly.

“But I have recently taken on a new,” Tony pauses, still drawing northward to caress your face. “-endeavor, that’s requiring a lot of attention right now.”

“A new endeavor?” You really try to act interested, but his touch sends shivers down your back. A subtle graze on the soft corner of your mouth becomes the most sensual touch in the past two months (and you weren’t expecting it here of all places). You, permanently apprehensive of scaring him off, never made a move to progress things physically, no matter how much you thought about it.

He says something else your brain can’t be bothered to process, giving a final circle on your cheek before meeting your eyes. “But, my attention should be on you, honey.”

Your mouth is suddenly painfully dry, clearing your throat before responding with a forced laugh.

“You’re fine, I was just prying.” 

Tony reassures you softly, “Nothing wrong with that.” giving you one of those toothy smiles that makes your head a bit light, especially with his closeness. “But only if you listen when I answer.”

You chuckle at being discovered, shaking your head slightly. 

“Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“Well, doll, you missed an invitation to Los Angeles, gonna have to pass that on to someone else I’m afraid.” 

He shrugs his shoulders defeatedly when you scoff and swat his shoulder.

“Had you been listening , you would have heard that I’ve just been made partner in new company, and there’s supposedly a very nice celebration happening this weekend.”

It takes a beat for you to fully process the short time frame. 

“So, you should definitely come.” The matter-of-fact tone he uses breaks your stunned state with a laugh. 

“Unlike you I cannot just go to California for a weekend-”

“Aht!” He intercepts, smiling. “I recall two hours ago, a certain someone told me she was off Friday and Saturday, therefore, you can just go to L.A., this one weekend.”

Now, that was very true, and put you in quite the predicament, stammering at his growing smile until you finally found an excuse.

“I don’t have a valid ID.” you say proudly, crossing your arms.

“I have a private plane.” he responds pointedly.

“I’m terrified of airplanes.” 

“That’s a lie.” he laughed, resting his hands on your hips. “What is the problem with taking a trip with me? Is it LA? Cause I can just ask for it to be moved—”

“No, no,” you gave a disheartened laugh and sighed, “It’s just, I don’t know, a lot?”

“California’s pretty normal these days-”

“Okay, okay. Just what is your end goal here? With all this?” The incessant question in the back of your head, which you hoped didn’t cause another instant implosion.

“What do you mean?” Unbeknownst to you, Tony knew precisely what you meant, from the countless conversations, and had a very concrete answer, but there was some enjoyment in stonewalling you. 

“I mean you’re always trying to do insane things like trying to fly me across the country but you haven’t even so much as kissed me getting kind of confused-” 

“Would kissing you get you to go to L.A. with me?” Tony cuts off your exasperated tangent, laughing softly.

You roll your eyes, bracing your arms by your side, preparing to walk away. Tony senses he might benefit from a moment of seriousness and stops you with a hand on your wrist and quick spoken apologies.

“Having you on my arm is more than enough for me, doll. If you want more, that’s up to you.” This was by no means new information to you. He’d given similar reassurances to you, none which seemed to ease you for long. 

“So, answer the question, would that get you to go?” Tony pushes, leaning towards you.

“Probably.” You wish he didn’t have this effect on you so easily, but the words barely manage to register above a whisper. 

For your admission, you're rewarded with the taste of bourbon on your lips as his hand abandons your arm to rest under your chin. His teeth graze the skin of your bottom lip, stubble tickling your chin.  When he pulls away, he can’t help smirking at your dazed look. Really, Tony dreamed of doing a lot with you, but saw no need to rush. Especially since every light touch so far left you a flustered mess.

“We’ll leave early Friday morning, you can sleep on the plane, sound good?”

You don’t have a reason to protest anymore.

 After Tony drops you off, he decides to get something for future you. The colorful painting finds a new home, wrapped in an empty room at the tower, shelves lined with blank canvases and paint. 

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ

[kenneduck]

Would your Yona also have feelings for Link? Or perhaps she sees him as a good friend? Would Sidon get jealous seeing Link ride HER in the water lol

Hmm, so I've been hesitant to answer this, but I kind of want to! I'll just say that what I'm GOING to say isn't canon for Secret Confessions when it comes to Link, but this is how I like to write her character, and to make full sense of it, I'll just say how I imagine both Yona's relationships w/ Sidon and Link here...

Yona I imagine was a childhood friend of Sidon, who met him through her family member, Muzu. As she's from the same domain Muzu/Dorephan was from originaly before Dorephan married Sidon/Mipha's mother and moved into the Hyrule Zora's Domain. Yona was there to comfort Sidon after he lost Mipha, as the two both mourned her and leaned on each other. Though, the two spent less time together as Sidon grew older, so their romantic feelings didn't grow until after their arranged marriage.

I HC Yona to be like demiromantic + asexual, so I view Yona and Sidon's romance differently than Sidon and Link's. Yona loves Sidon as her husband. Her love for him is strong, and she feels so safe in his arms and by his side. She didn't have romantic feelings for him when they were first arranged, but he's just so charismatic and lovable, and quite honestly funny. In a way Yona didn't get to see much when he was younger. She can't get over how much heart he's grown to have, but still manage to be the most lovable ditz in her life. She worried at first with the marriage that it would be nothing more than a political one, especially as she grew very aware of Sidon's blatant attraction for his dearest friend, but she quickly realized how big his heart was. That she also had a place in it. Sidon fell in love with Yona's comfort, her genuine care, and the way she's able to speak so heartfelt with such ease and consideration. She's the smartest person he knows, and he's so happy that she's the Zora Queen. He also loves how cuddly she is, and that when the two are alone, it's spent in each others arms. She's so comforting.

After Link joins the picture, Yona is more than happy to see Sidon's heart full. That, and she most definitely can enjoy breaks from her husband, and even though she enjoys his cuddles and endless compliments, she also enjoys her alone time. She also feels glad that Sidon has someone that... loves him in a way she doesn't. She's never felt pressured by Sidon to be intimate. Even with him always explaining his love for her isn't defined by intimacy, she's found herself guilty for not loving Sidon in that way. The first time she spots a Zora bite on Link, she's overwhelmed with laughter. She's happy, and Link clearly is too, as he isn't trying to hide it at all. Yona feels a weight of sort off her shoulders from this... so thankfully Link had a mark on his LMAO.

When it comes to sleeping arrangements, if Link is there that night, the three share a bed in Sidon and Yona's quarters that is big enough for the three. Where Link and Yona sandwich Sidon between them, and the three cuddle the night away. Yona, at first, is cautious about sticking to her side of the bed. She wants to avoid Link, not because she dislikes him, but she knows he loves Sidon, not her. She doesn't mind sticking to her side of the bed, but one morning when she wakes up to Link cuddling her and Sidon snoring on the other side of Link, she's overwhelmed. Though, she strangely feels comforted, and she quite enjoys it, which only causes her alarm and she gently unwraps Link around her. This happens a few times, and Yona feels a bit confused at the experiences. She doesn't DISLIKE them, but she also feels a bit guilty when she admits she is finding Link quite comforting in the way she finds Sidon.

Yona finds herself giggling more at Link's feral like behaviors. Finding herself blushing a bit when Link and Sidon swim around the reservoir. When she and Link talk alone, she feels a comfort that leaves her confused. She wants to know more, be around him more, but she knows that isn't what Link wants.

But again, one morning after she wakes up, she's met with Sidon on the other side of Link. Sidon is awake, and with Yona's movements, Link awakens, too. Yona expects Link to give his usual morning kiss to Sidon, but with Link used to Sidon being to his left, he, without opening his eyes, gives Yona a peck, leaving Sidon AND Yona both confused and speechless. Link opens his eyes to the sight, and immediately apologizes, turning redder than Sidon. Yona explains all is well, but her heart is racing, and she's overwhelmed because she LIKED the kiss, and with her guilt, she runs out.

Later that day, Link meets Yona alone, and he apologizes for the morning. Link noticed Yona hadn't returned from the reservoir, and knew this accidental kiss was something they wouldn't just forget about. When Link apologizes, Yona apologizes too, as she admits she liked it, and that she apologizes for falling for Link, too. Link is silent for what feels like a long time. But when he walks over to Yona and hugs her, she's surprised. Link admits he's grown his own love for Yona with their time spent together. It's different than his love for Sidon, but it's more than just as a friend. He does love her, and he's sorry for the kiss, but if she's okay with it, he'd like to make a proper kiss next time. To which Yona agrees, and the two kiss again.

Sidon of fucking course is overly excited at the news, as this presents so many more cuddling and date options. The three get along swimmingly, and well, Sidon wouldn't get jealous of Link swimming on Yona's back. He'd just be waiting impatiently for his turn LMAO.

[archivomeow]

when you lost control

read on ao3

summary -> Carol Danvers can keep her cool… just not when a guy obviously is hitting on her uninterested girlfriend.

pairing -> Carol Danvers/Reader (Established Relationship)

a/n -> If you guys could check out my pinned post, it would mean a lot <3 Also enjoy some protective & gay Carol. This is a very short one shot, like definitely shorter then my usual ones. ALSO TITLE IS A TAYLOR LYRIC (“when you lost control, red blood, white snow” aka “is it over now?”)

You and Carol have been a thing for quite a while, it was tough, she was busy a lot and not-on-earth a lot… But you made it work.

Finally there was a moment where both of you had free time, time to talk, to do anything and everything, so you figured a date is a good idea.

There was one bar in particular that you two haven’t visited yet in the area of your apartment, so that’s where you agreed to meet up, the only issue being that Carol was late. You didn’t expect her to be early, but at least on time. There wad a chance she had to cancel and you two were stuck not seeing each other again, but you still had hope.

Checking your phone made you even more anxious, especially when the time hasn’t changed. As the seat next to you was taken, your annoyance was growing, your disappointment, anger, everything that you weren’t meant to he feeling today is what you were feeling.

“So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” A voice next to you caught you off-guard, you turned your head just to meet eyes with a man, you in fact didn’t know.

He was about your age or older, smirking at you, his eyes were busy in the mean time looking at your tight dress, which in fact was not for his to look at.

“Waiting.” You kept your tone cold, making sure to not seem interested, him continuing this conversation was the last thing you wanted.

“Well, why don’t I keep you company, hm?” He chuckled like he just said something funny, nothing about this was funny.

There was a pit growing in your stomach and you were just praying for the phone to ring, for your girlfriend to show up, however all you got left was sitting at a bar, stood up as of now and talking to a guy who wanted to score.

“No, thanks.” A polite smile appeared on your face for a moment, just enough for him to see it as an invitation to place his hand on your shoulder.

You could feel his cold fingers brushing over your shoulder, you wanted to run, just leave, instead you…froze. He was in fact talking, but you were in fact not paying attention, you just had to figure out a way to get out…Fast and safe.

The man got quiet, looking behind your back, at something you couldn’t see.

“Hey there, sweeth—“ He didn’t got to finish, as the woman behind you twisted his hand, the one placed on your shoulder before hand.

The blonde pushed him, with a lot of strength, as the guy yelled out for help, she moved closer whispering something into his ear before letting him go.

She turned to you, worry on her face, well after all maybe your date wasn’t ruined, just late.

“Carol.” You sighed in relief, as you shoulders relaxed and soon enough wrapped around the woman.

“Hi honey…” She whispered, her voice was calming you even more, you finally felt at home.

“God… He just came out of nowhere and I—“

“It’s fine… I say we get out of here, hm?” She smiles at you, leading you out of the bar.

The cold air hits your warm skin, making you shiver, the good side is that you get to wear your girlfriend’s jacket.

“So… What did you say to him?”

“Oh, you know… Only nice stuff…” She chuckled before opening the door to her passager seat for you.

[green-alien-turdz]

i want you to go over each and every small character detail you add and explain i love your mind and your art dude no homo

Okay, here we go

STAN: Peace sign pin on his hat n sometimes wears preachy shirts about environmentalism bcuz he's an ecofag. He has faint old scars on his arms n thighs cuz he used to cut. He's often covered in bruises bcuz the CD shows are tightly packed n he will inevitably get hit at least once.

KENNY: Covered in shit load of scars bcuz dead as hell. He's missin a visible top tooth bcuz it got cracked as shit n asked the gang to pull it out for him, which they very poorly did. While he doesn't care about havin nice clothes, he likes comedy shirts bcuz he'll lose his mind if he can't make someone at least chuckle.

CARTMAN: Stretch marks bcuz he a big bitch. His hair is the exact same bcuz he got so used to it as a kid n now has anxiety about changin it (he will never admit this). He also likes wearin funny shirts bcuz Kenny got him goin on that. Bro also wears tight or more showin clothin when he feels cuz he couldn't give less of a shit about how other view his body.

KYLE: Mouth scars from Human Centipad (he just kinda ignores the scars now. He couldn't come to terms with them, so he just numbed himself to them), sh scars bcuz that bitch ain't well. Jewfro in full bloom as he just doesn't care n he REALLY needs to take better care of it bcuz it's so matted. CD shirt 95% of the time bcuz it's like his #1 comfort item.

MARJORINE (or Butters if we're goin by show name): She keeps her hair at that very specific length bcuz it's long enough to where she feels more feminine, but short enough to where her parents don't suspect anything (but gettin allowed to grow it that long took a lot of convincing). He eye left eye is scarred n not able to move much due to the throwin star incident (she is blind in that eye). She does have old sh scars from middle school when she had to come to terms with bein trans n she was extremely confused n conflicted about all of it. She likes wearin skirts bcuz it makes her feel more feminine, but has to get dressed once out in public, so it's somethin she can quickly get on and off if need be.

IKE: Long hair/mullet adjacent bcuz he is just likin the look right now n after Sheila made him keep his hair short for majority of his childhood, he's just kinda feelin out different things. I gave him freckles bcuz in Cartman Get's an Anal Probe, Kyle calls him a 'freckly kid'. Bro got them glasses bcuz he grew up on the computer. His front tooth is cracked n brown bcuz he n Kyle were wrestlin n Ike hit a table. And while it's not completely uncommon for people to start growin facial hair in middle school, Ike started to bcuz Canadians hit puberty earlier.

KAREN: She has a birth mark on the left side of her face (did this in placement for the weird maybe dirt stain she has in the show). Her hair is long n all over the place bcuz she doesn't really brush her hair (you can blame Kenny for the influence) n she cuts it herself but is not too great at layering. Growin up impoverished n around the ideologies that Stan n CD always talks about made her rather angry in the sphere of politics n human rights, so she is very vocal about her opinions of the shit she sees (which is why she always writes shit on her clothes). She can also sometimes be seen wearin a rasta coloured beanie, which was Kevin's before he died.

CRAIG: Usually wearin his work hoodie (Fagoccini's Pizzaria) bcuz mf doesn't care to put in effort outside of that seein as he works so much. Bro wears a similar hat to the one he did as a kid bcuz it brought him a lot of comfort, n now that his hairline is recedin n he's baldin a lil bit at 18, he wears it bcuz he's a lil insecure. He doesn't give a shit that his teeth a crooked n gapped cuz it doesn't effect shit, but he does have a bit of an underbite that pisses him off bcuz he swears up n down that's what makes his voice sound so nasally.

TWEEK: Hair all fuckin wild bcuz he cuts it himself, n loses patience quickly n starts choppin. He also has white streaks in his hair which started appearing after his parents got arrested n durin his very long detox (from the stress of the info and on his body cuz of the dependency). He's got scratches all over his face n body from stress scratchin, meltdowns, n a few mishaps here n there. Bro also got sh scars bcuz bro got a lotta shit that went down n his brain chemistry is FUCKED.

WENDY: She cuts her hair short bcuz she wants to have a more androgynous appearance, but is still very confident with bein feminine n shit like that. When she started to become more human rights n social justice oriented, she started to get into boxing (as well as wrestling in school). She thought it would be a good to know how to fight if it came down to it. Plus she could already kick ass before, n she just thought it would be best to hone that ability.

BEBE: Started changin quite a bit after she had a whole moment of thinkin that she would turn out exactly like her mom (she has nothin wrong with her, just doesn't want that life). While she's still into things like cheer, she also started lookin into things that weren't what she was used to. She ended up findin Pink Flamingos, n became obsessed with Divine ever since. She dyes her cuz she feels better with it. n while she still does her makeup conventionally, she likes doin a more dark colour palet.

CLYDE: He's just Clyde. Dude's appearance didn't change that much bcuz he didn't change much. Some mfs just kinda be like that.

TOLKEIN: His mom suggested he try different hairstyles to be more connected with his culture bcuz he was havin a moment where he felt a lil blah bein the only Black dude his age in the area. He doesn't do upkeep as much as he should though, so things are a lil messy, but he doesn't see a problem as workin on the farm makes everythin messy so much faster anyway.

JIMMY: Bro just dresses casually. He doesn't really care about clothes or shit bcuz he can get people's attention with his comedy. Ladies man as fuck

HENRIETTA: Always has the best outfits bcuz she got into sewin so that she could start makin shit that she specifically wanted. She has a few tattoos- some are stick n pokes she did with her friends, others her mom signed off on when she was still under 18. She tries to ward people off with her makeup, which works rather well in South Park. She has both old sh scars from her emo moment (where she was just doin it cuz that's what she was told emo's did), n ones from later on where she was just feelin super empty n couldn't find a way to romanticize it like done previously.

FIRKLE: He's still in middle school so he doesn't go AS out there with his fashion bcuz he doesn't have the in-school support of his friends anymore. But still does dramatic makeup which he gets in trouble for all the time.

MICHAEL: Simple clothes that he's comfortable in, but not so simple that he feels like he's conforming. Pierced his ears up n down bcuz he was told he couldn't. Pierced his own eyebrow 3 different times bcuz it keeps growin out. Knee brace due to arthritis, unfortunately. A shit load of sh scars bcuz he always tries to act so stoic n unbothered around everyone else, that it led to him breaking down all the time in private bcuz he wasn't allowin himself to feel things.

/\ They have a matchin stick n poke 'nevermore' tattoo bcuz they thought it'd be pretty dope n they wanted to connect themselves with eachother via blood usin the same needle (don't do that, it's not great to get other people's blood in ya) \/

PETE: Dude's mom is extremely supportive of him bein goth, so much so that she was the one dyin his hair as a kid bcuz he asked. He has a very specific style that he likes n sometimes he goes through his grandpa's old shit to find stuff to wear (usually altering it to be more dark in appearance).

(There are others I have designs for, but bcuz I haven't posted them much, imma just stop here.)

Enjoy this fuckin novel, bro. Thank you. And I'm sorry, but I'm a full homo kind of guy