#☓ Searching for a Match... {Queue}

[moreaujeans]

spotify stop playing the wrong version of youth by daughter challenge

[yeagerprincess]

Casual (Onyankopon x Black Reader)

"Baby, wai-"

"Boy, fuck you!" You scream, slamming the door behind you in your boyfriend's face. Tears stream down your honey colored cheeks as you throw yourself into your bed, sobbing loudly into your heart shaped pillow.

The sound of Onyankopon's knuckles on your bedroom door only piss you off even more. "I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT," you wail like a banshee. Your anger contrasts your outfit: a soft pink skirt with a matching tube top and white converse with frilly white ankle socks.

"You gone quit yellin' at me, girl," his voice rumbles through the door, making you sob even harder. He respects your wishes though, and storms out the front door without another word.

Nearly an hour had gone by before you finally calmed down, staring blankly at the wall as you recounted the day's events. You were all dolled up and ready to spend the night out with Onyankopon, just the two of you, when you happened to peek over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of his messages.

It was all downhill from there. Whatever bitch he was texting could have him.

At least, you wished you really felt that way.

Your mind is swimming as you drag yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. After lazily cleaning off your makeup, you find yourself staring into the bathroom mirror. Your eyes are all puffy and red from crying, your once perfect edges were in total disarray now, your ponytail askew and the ribbon loosely draped around your scrunchie.

You're a mess. One final tear cascades down your cheek before you finally begin to draw yourself a bath. You dim the lights, get a few candles going, light some incense, then turn on your shower playlist. You douse your bath water with lavender oil and vanilla bath salts, then slowly ease your way into the steaming water, letting out a deep sigh of relief as the water warms you to your bones.

Your phone buzzes on the sink and you just know it's him. Who the fuck else would it be? Ignore.

it's only when the water starts to freeze that you finally rise from the tub and check your phone. It's Onyankopon, asking if you're okay asking if you're ready to talk. But you don't answer. You'd rather pout and let him figure it out.

You throw on a tank top and some shorts, then head to the kitchen in search of your favorite comfort snacks: wine, cookies n cream ice cream, a blunt, and some popcorn, only to be stopped dead in your tracks by the sight of Onyankopon sitting on your sofa in the dark.

"I thought you left," you ask, voice barely a whisper. He only shakes his head. You can tell he's been crying too. His nose is red and he usually gets quieter when he's upset, the complete opposite of you. "You really want me to leave?"

"I really want you to tell me why you talkin' to them bitches when you got a girlfriend."

"I thought we was just casual."

"Casual? Why don't you casually get the fuck up off my couch and ask that other bitch if you can casually sleep on hers."

"You know, you got a smart fuckin' mouth, girl" Onyankopon growls, rising from the sofa and making his way towards you until he's right in front of you, peering down at you with those piercing, dark eyes. "I like that about you," he continues, lifting his hand to caress his thumb over your pouty lips.

As much as you hate him right now, he's so fucking sexy in the dim light like this, his gold grillz shining in the dark, features softened by the darkness of the room. "Stop playin' with me," you sigh, gazing up at him through hazy, half lidded eyes.

"Ain't nobody playin' witchu, girl," his deep voice rumbles through his chest, making you squirm underneath his gaze. "I really ain't know you felt like that. That we was supposed to be official. I'm sorry." He punctuates his apology with a kiss, plump brown lips gently pressing against yours.

As if on queue, the waterworks start right up again. Against your own better judgment, you give into him, albeit reluctantly. "I-I hate you," you whimper into his lips, snaking your arms around his broad, hulking shoulders as he lifts you into his arms and carries you off to the sofa. "You'ont hate me, baby," he answers, shushing your verbal protests with another sweet kiss.

You want to argue so badly, but the way that big sexy mocha man effortlessly manhandles you has you reconsidering everything you though you felt about him. You allow him to undress you, instinctively lifting your hips as he rolls your pajama shorts down your thighs. He bites his lip as he takes in the display before him. You're already wet.

His clothes come off soon after, his big veiny dick just as ready as your pussy, your both shameless in your desire for each other. He sinks down into your aching pussy, watching as your face contorts with pleasure. Every inch has you thanking your stars that he didn't actually leave earlier.

"Onyyyyy," you whine as he begins to rock his hips, stroking your pussy slow and deep. You suck in a breath through your teeth, the slow pace making your eyes flutter shut. He carefully pulls one of your thighs up over his shoulder, gripping tightly onto the other as he rolls his devilishly skilled hips down into yours.

"You gone be nice to me?" he teases, watching you slowly fall apart for him, a deep chuckle escaping his lips when he sees you shaking your head 'no.'

"You cute," he answers before repositioning his hips, now drilling down straight into your sweet spot, making your eyes shoot open to lock with his. "Oh, fuck, oooouuh, Ony!" His pace his still pretty lax, but he's stroking you so deep and intensely that you can't keep up. Your faces are so close that your noses bump. You stick out your tongue to flick across his lips, making him groan desperately for you.

Your pretty, manicured nails dig into his bulbous biceps as he fucks you thoroughly, his fat dick filling you perfectly. "I'm sorry for making you cry," he moans against your lips before kissing them, only to pull away and apologize once more. The wet sounds of his dick stirring up your pussy fill the air alongside the lewd, smacking noises of your tongues and lips, making your eyes roll back from all the sensations. You make the mistake of peeking downwards where the two of you collide, only to be met with the scene of Onyankopon's unforgiving dick bullying away at your deliciously creamy pussy.

Long, drawn out whines and whimpers fall from your mouth as you watch Onyankopon's two huge plums slapping against your jiggly cheeks with every thrust. No one fucks you as good as him. No one's dick is as good as his. Nobody does this to your pussy except him.

"I'm finna cum, Ony!"

"You gone talk to me nice?"

"Oh, FUCK! Yes, Ony, yes Imma be nice! Imma be nice, daddy!"

"Get this dick, baby," he responds, prompting you to cream yourself all over his thick dick. You writhe and thrash beneath him, squealing blissfully into his pierced ear as he fucks all the girl juice out of you, watching intently as you fall apart on his dick. "Uuughh, fuck, Imma cum, baby, I'm finna cum all in that pussy," he groans as loses himself inside you, picking up the pace and ramming into you as he floods you with his precious cum.

It takes a minute for you both to regain your composure, just laying there in each other's arms and bathing in the afterglow. "We still casual?" you ask, playfully smacking him on the shoulder when you hear him laughing on top of you.

[awosofavs]

Quiet

AR23

a/n writing is hard. i hope you enjoy! i’m still very new to writing so lmk if there’s anything i can do to improve :D

(implied reader has autism or sensory issues, i am writing this from my own experiences as an autistic individual who sometimes struggles on match days this is not an indicator of how all neurodivergent people feel)

————————————————————————

You knew match days were hectic, the loud noises, the large crowds. It became a normal. However you did have to put in a large amount of preparation so ensure you didn’t have a breakdown in the middle of the stadium. You always had headphones and water at the ready. A jumper to put on if cold but you usually wore one of the many “Russo” jerseys you owned. You also always carried a little bunny jellycat keyring lessi had got you. The tiny bunny bringing so much comfort to a stressful match day.

In the end though, no matter how much stress it caused you nothing compared to the feeling you got when she stepped on the pitch or when she scored a goal and did her little celebration that she had dedicated for you.

This time was different. You were in a rush to leave to get to the stadium on time, you never rushed. You usually left at exactly 12:30 if a match started at 2 because you liked to get there and get to your seats before the crowd got too big but it was 12:45 and you were still miles off leaving. You always wore a little red bag (red for arsenal of course) on match days. It held everything you needed plus the little white bunny. Today the bag was no where to be seen. The red usually sticks out like a sore thumb but no matter how hard you tried to find it it was no where.

12:50

you glanced at the clock and felt the pit in your stomach deepen, not only are you going to be late you also can’t find the one thing you need. You weighed up your options; stay and search for a potentially missing bag and deal with crowds or leave now and still miss quite a bit of the crowds. You went with the later option.

Grabbing another small black back you headed for the door. You got on the bus and heard a baby crying. No big deal your headphones should be in your bag you think yet when you reach into your black bag you remember that it is a different one to usual. It’s fine you thought, it’ll be fine. You arrived at the stadium 20 minutes later than usual and due to that the queues had built up quite a lot . the noise was nearing unbearable.

Somehow you made it to your seat and managed to take one final breath whilst everything was bubbling in your mind. You felt your hands shaking and had to remember to breathe.

You felt your nerves calm as soon as she stepped on the pitch though. Jumping to your feet you cheered when she ran on the pitch. You watched her usual 7 jumps and felt at home again.

All too quickly the match finished 3-0 arsenal with your lessi scoring two of them. You grabbed your things and headed to leave. You liked to leave and slip to the players section quickly as a lot of fans like to stay and meet the players so that meant a smoother quieter exit. For some reason today everyone decided to leave quicker so you were caught in the crowd. Today the crowd was particularly feisty pushing and shoving trying to get where they needed to go. The contact was driving you insane and your breath hitched. You started tapping on the bag of your strap, searching for some sort of let out. You finally make it to the part where lessi meets you and burst into tears, the sensory of the day getting to you.

“Hi love of my life gorgeous girl- love are you alright?” she quickly ran over to you “what’s wrong?”

“loud touch too much” she pulled you into her arms and put her hands over your ears. rocking you two slowly.

“it’s okay love it’s done now” she looked down and realised the different bag you had on. “what happened to your red bag?”

“i couldn’t find it anywhere” you had calmed down a lot now. “so when i got here i was late and hit all of the crowds and i didn’t have my headphones or snowy or anything” she held you tighter

“oh love you know you didn’t have to come? i never want to hurt you” she had that soft had look like she’d almost broken you. it made you miserable. you leaned back so you were face to face with her

“no lessi baby i will always come and support you, i just struggle sometimes but that doesn’t mean that the overall experience wasn’t worth it. i’d be so upset if i had missed those goals” you leaned in and kissed her. you felt comforted in her presence. Her blue eyes looking at you with such love and care. You could get lost in those eyes.

“How about we go back and put a movie on? or anything you want?” you smirked knowing what you wanted.

“how about we put on the replay of that match and i can rewatch my gorgeous girlfriend score her incredible goals and look incredibly beautiful in her kit?” she giggled and rolled her eyes. “no really i just want to rewatch the match i guess sometimes i get distracted by you on the pitch and forget to actually watch”

“you nerd” you hit her softly on her arm.

“not a nerd i just happen to enjoy football missy”

“sounds like a nerd to me!” she laughed and then grabbed your hand and pulled you up, you walked over to her car. often with home matches she would opt for driving because it meant that she could drive you home after. As always lessi held the door open for you before walking around and letting herself in.

“what songs pretty girl?” she smiles and said. you thought about it for a while and then decided. You waited for the song to come and and looked over for her reaction.

beautiful crazy she can’t help but amaze me

“oh i love this song” she started to sing along not caring who heard

“i know you do baby”

you couldn’t help but smile, you had the perfect girl singing the perfect song whilst driving you home.

You love her

[kaiyunsim]

20 —

pairing : childhood friend!woonhak x reader

genre : bittersweet angst / comfort (no romance)

summary : the feeling of adulthood constantly looms over you as you search through the remnants of your childhood spent with another boy all your life. you send a message to him and go down a train of memories.

a/n : i actually started tearing up while making this... this song is literally my favorite because of how relatable it is :( THIS IS MY FAVORITE FIC.

queueing : 20 - boynextdoor, heirloom pain - niki, split - niki, everything stays - adventure time

[19.99 masterlist]

— wc : 4.3k — not proof read —

you don’t know when everything started feeling so heavy.

maybe it was sometime between your first real failure and your hundredth sleepless night, when responsibilities stacked like bricks on your chest and never let up. maybe it was today, when your test came back covered in red ink in the shape of many 'x's, when nothing seemed to go the way you wanted.

either way, it’s here now. this weight, this quiet, creeping exhaustion that settles deep in your bones.

you shut your door behind you, kicking off your shoes with a sigh. your room is the same as always, but it feels different somehow, like it belongs to someone younger. the walls are lined with old posters, trinkets scattered on shelves, little pieces of a version of you that felt so certain about everything.

you drop your bag onto the floor and fall onto your bed, face buried in your pillow. you should study, should do something productive, but all you want is to close your eyes and make time stop, just for a little while.

but time doesn’t stop. it never does.

your gaze drifts across the room until it lands on a dusty, handmade photo album shoved between your books.

you freeze.

you haven’t seen that thing in years.

hesitantly, you reach for it, your fingers brushing against the worn-out cover. the edges are frayed, the spine barely holding together, but the moment you open it, memories spill out like they were never gone.

the first picture is a blurry shot of you and and a boy, kim woonhak, grinning so wide your cheeks almost split, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. you must have been ten, maybe eleven. it’s taken from the roof. your roof, your little world tucked away just outside your window.

you flip the page.

there’s one of your hideout, blankets draped over chairs, flashlights glowing underneath like a secret universe. another of woonhak, mid-laugh, his hair sticking up in every direction because of his bed-hair.

then there are the notes. messy handwriting on scrap paper, stuck between photos like little time capsules.

"note's to self (y/n, the coolest person ever)"

get through school >:(

marry a handsome man

always be best friends!!!

you let out a quiet breath, tracing the words with your fingertips.

but that last one... it stings a little.

you and woonhak were best friends. for as long as you can remember, he was there, by your side, at your house, in your life.

but then, like a teen drama, high school happened.

he went to one school, you went to another. at first, it didn’t seem like a big deal. you still texted, still made plans to meet up on weekends. but slowly, without either of you meaning to, life got in the way. school got busier, schedules stopped matching up, and the messages you once sent daily turned into every few days, then every few weeks, then—

you swallow hard, shutting the album for a moment.

you still saw him, here and there. passing by in town, at mutual friends’ gatherings, in the rare moments where your paths crossed. he never changed much, always loud, always full of energy, always him. but with each meeting, the conversations grew shorter, more distant.

until eventually, there just wasn’t enough time left at all.

you exhale shakily, reopening the album and flipping to the last few pages.

the summer before high school, you and woonhak spent nearly every night on the roof, watching the sky turn from pink to navy. you made forts out of old blankets, whispered about the future like it was some grand adventure waiting for you. back then, growing up sounded exciting. back then, you thought nothing could really change.

you glance toward your window, toward the rooftop just beyond the glass.

you haven’t been up there in a while.

not since everything got complicated.

not since you started feeling like maybe you had to leave all of this behind.

but right now, sitting here with the weight of the world pressing against your chest, you can’t help but wonder—

if you climbed out there again, would it still feel the same?

you stare at your phone screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

the chat with woonhak hasn’t been touched in weeks. before that, it was months. messages sent here and there, “we should hang out soon”—but never followed up on. nothing past a few jokes, some reactions to each other’s posts, things that made it seem like you were still close even though you weren’t.

but tonight, with the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, you just want something familiar.

you: hey

you don’t expect an immediate response, but the read receipt pops up within seconds.

woonhak: huh?? you texting me first?? no way

you: shut up

woonhak: ur alive?? 😨

you: unfortunately

a pause. then—

woonhak: u good?

the question makes your throat feel tight. you could lie, could brush it off with a joke, but for some reason, you don’t.

you: idk just a bad day.

you: kinda wanna get out of my head for a bit.

you wonder if it sounds weird, reaching out like this after so long, ranting to him after not keeping in touch for a while. but woonhak’s response comes almost immediately.

woonhak: stay there.

you: ???

woonhak: window unlocked?

your heart stutters.

you: what.

woonhak: u better not have started locking it on me 😐

your hands tighten around your phone as you lay down on your bed. you never responded to his message and it's been 10 minutes. you make a short glance at your window, half expecting to see nothing.

but then—

a knock.

soft at first, then more insistent.

your breath catches in your throat.

slowly, you get up and push the curtains aside. and there he is.

kim woonhak, standing outside your window like he’s done a thousand times before, grinning like he never left.

he looks the same, but different. taller, maybe. a little older in the way he carries himself, but his eyes still shine with that same playful energy.

you unlock the window without thinking.

“you’re insane,” you whisper as you push it open. “you actually came?”

woonhak raises an eyebrow. “you texted me like you were summoning a demon. what was i supposed to do? ignore you?”

he climbs in effortlessly, like muscle memory, and suddenly, he’s in your room, something that hasn’t happened in years. it’s surreal, watching him take it all in, his eyes flicking over the same posters and shelves he used to see every day.

but he doesn’t say anything about the time that’s passed.

instead, he grabs your hand and tugs you toward the window. “c’mon.”

you hesitate. “what?”

“the roof,” he says, like it’s obvious. like it hasn’t been ages since you last went out there together.

your stomach twists, but you don’t argue. something about the way he says it makes you feel like a kid again, like nothing has changed at all.

you follow him out, stepping onto the cool surface of the roof. the night air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of summer.

the spot you built as kids is still there.

a small roof your dad built after you and woonhak wouldn't stop for one. few scattered blankets. an old lantern. the carvings in the wooden panels, where you both etched your initials like you owned this place.

you lower yourself onto one of the blankets, crossing your legs. woonhak plops down beside you, stretching his arms behind his head.

for a moment, neither of you say anything.

the silence isn’t awkward, though. it never was with him.

the stars overhead twinkle faintly, and the city hums in the distance. it’s almost like nothing has changed. almost.

woonhak breaks the silence first.

“so.” he tilts his head, watching you. “what happened?”

you let out a breath. “just… everything, i guess.”

he doesn’t push, just nods like he understands. “yeah. it kinda sucks, huh?”

you huff out a laugh. “understatement.”

he grins but doesn’t say anything more. just lies there, staring up at the sky like he could read answers in the constellations.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye. he really came without hesitation. just like that. no questions, no complaints.

“why’d you stop talking to me?”

the words slip out before you can stop them.

woonhak doesn’t react right away. he just blinks up at the sky, then exhales.

“i didn’t mean to,” he says quietly. “i guess… we just got busy. and then it felt kinda awkward to randomly text after a while.”

you nod slowly. “yeah. same.”

he turns his head to look at you. “but i missed you.”

the confession is simple, said without hesitation.

you swallow, fingers curling in the fabric of the blanket.

“i missed you too.”

the wind is soft against your skin, carrying the familiar scent of summer. the kind that used to mean long nights spent laughing until your stomach hurt, whispering about the future under the stars.

you and woonhak lay side by side on the roof, the silence between you stretching comfortably. above, the night sky flickers with distant constellations, the same ones you used to trace with your fingers when you were younger, naming them after whatever nonsense came to mind.

you shift slightly, reaching out to run your fingers over the wooden panels beneath you. the carvings are still there, etched into the surface with the careful, clumsy hands of your childhood selves.

stick figures, one labeled with your name, one labeled with woonhak’s.

a badly drawn cat.

your initials, scratched deep into the wood as if that would keep them there forever.

and then there are the words written in marker.

"dreams for the future"

get super rich

become superheroes

never grow up

always be best friends!!!

you let out a quiet breath.

“wow,” woonhak mutters beside you, tilting his head to look at the same words. “we were ambitious.”

you huff out a laugh. “yeah. too bad none of it happened.”

“hey,” he nudges your arm. “speak for yourself. i’m still working on the super rich part.”

you giggle. “and the superhero thing?”

“okay, maybe that one’s taking a little longer.” he grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

a breeze passes through, rustling the old blankets still sprawled across the roof, tugging at the edges of the memories you’ve tucked away for years.

you hesitate for a second before shifting, reaching for the photo album you brought with you. the cover is old and worn, the pages slightly curled from years of flipping through them.

“i found this earlier,” you say quietly, placing it between you.

woonhak blinks, sitting up slightly. “holy—” he picks it up carefully, like it might fall apart in his hands. “i forgot we even made this.”

he opens it, and just like before, the past spills out between you.

the first page is a mess, stickers plastered haphazardly, a cutout of a superhero comic you were both obsessed with, and a note in woonhak’s familiar handwriting:

"this book belongs to y/n & woonhak! if you steal it, you have no taste. >:("

he laughs under his breath. “wow. we were really mean.”

“nah, we were right,” you say, nudging him. “this thing is priceless.”

he flips through the pages slowly, stopping every so often to grin at a picture, to shake his head at the ridiculous things you wrote down.

“oh my god.” he suddenly bursts out laughing, pointing at a photo of you both covered head to toe in dirt, grinning like maniacs. “do you remember this?”

you do. vividly.

“we thought digging a tunnel would let us escape school,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“it was a good idea!” he insists, still laughing. “we just… underestimated how deep we had to dig.”

“we got grounded for a week.”

“worth it,” he says without hesitation, and for a second, it feels like you’re ten years old again, back when the biggest problem in your life was sneaking past your parents without tracking mud into the house.

but then he turns the page, and the laughter fades.

it’s a collection of notes. scraps of paper you both stuffed into the album over time.

“let’s move in together when we’re older so we can play video games all night.”

“if we ever fight, let’s promise to fix it before the day ends.”

“what if we made a secret handshake? oh wait we already did nvm.”

“we’ll always be best friends, right?”

woonhak’s fingers linger over that last one.

the silence feels heavier now.

you know what he’s thinking.

neither of you ever meant to drift apart. neither of you wanted to. but somewhere along the way, life happened. time slipped through your fingers like sand, and before you knew it, the person who was once your closest friend became someone you only saw in passing.

woonhak exhales, leaning back onto his elbows. “sometimes i wish we could go back, y’know?”

you don’t respond right away. you just stare at the sky, the stars blurring slightly as your chest tightens.

“yeah,” you finally whisper. “me too.”

he turns his head toward you. “when did everything get so serious?”

you swallow.

“i don’t know.”

you really don’t.

back then, the future felt exciting. you wanted to grow up, to do everything, to be someone. but now, standing on the edge of it, all it feels like is a series of responsibilities waiting to drown you.

and no matter how much you want to, you can’t go back.

but even so—

“it’s kind of nice,” you murmur, “that we had those dreams.”

woonhak tilts his head, watching you.

“i mean… even if none of it happened. even if we grew up and got busy and lost touch for a while. at least we got to have that, right? all those moments where we thought we’d never change.”

he’s quiet for a second. then he smiles. small, but real.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i guess that’s true.”

the photo album rests between you, filled with pieces of a time you can never return to.

but tonight, sitting here under the same stars, next to the same person who still understands you without needing words.

it almost feels like you never left.

the night air is cool against your skin, carrying the faint scent of grass and asphalt. the roof creaks softly as you shift, stretching your legs out in front of you. beside you, woonhak leans back on his elbows, staring at the sky.

“so,” he says, exhaling. “how’s life?”

you let out a dry laugh. “oh, you know. amazing. totally thriving.”

woonhak snorts. “that bad, huh?”

“it’s just—” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t know. school sucks. i barely have time for anything, and when i do, it’s just more studying. i signed up for all these stupid AP classes thinking they’d help me in the future, but i can barely keep up.”

you glance at him. “seriously. i think i’m failing at least two of them.”

woonhak winces. “yikes.”

“yeah.” you tug at a loose thread on your sleeve. “and my parents keep telling me that i need to try harder, but i am trying. it just… never feels like enough.”

he’s quiet for a moment before he leans back fully, resting his head on his arms. “i get it.”

you blink. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he sighs, staring up at the sky. “i mean, my classes aren’t as bad as yours, but it’s still a lot. and then there’s…” he trails off, making a vague gesture with his hand.

“there’s what?”

he hesitates, then groans, covering his face with his hands. “my friends.”

you frown. “what about them?”

woonhak sighs, dropping his hands. “they’re great. really, they are. but sometimes it’s exhausting, y’know? like. i love sungho, but he never stops worrying about everything. taesan and riwoo keep dragging me into whatever dumb plan they come up with. leehan’s always disappearing and then randomly showing up like nothing happened. and woonhak—”

you blink. “you?”

“sorry, i meant jaehyun. he calls me woonagi.” he rolls his eyes. “he’s literally the loudest person i’ve ever met. and i swear he has no concept of personal space.”

you snort. “sounds like a handful.”

“they are.” he groans, rubbing his face. “but they’re also my best friends, so i can’t really complain.”

you tilt your head. “except you just did.”

he shoots you a glare. “shut up.”

you grin, nudging him with your elbow. but then your smile fades as you glance back up at the sky.

“…it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you murmur.

woonhak turns his head toward you. “what wasn’t?”

“growing up.” you exhale, resting your chin on your knees. “when we were kids, we thought being older meant getting to do whatever we wanted. no rules, no parents telling us what to do. just freedom.”

woonhak hums. “yeah. i remember.”

“but now that we’re actually here?” you shake your head. “it’s just more stress. more responsibilities. it’s not fun at all.”

he laughs quietly. “yeah. kinda sucks, doesn’t it?”

you nod. “biggest scam ever.”

woonhak shifts beside you, stretching his arms above his head. “remember when we used to make plans for when we got older?”

you smile faintly. “yeah.”

“we really thought we were gonna live together, huh?”

“i mean, we could’ve.”

“yeah,” he says softly. “we could’ve.”

but life got in the way.

you fell out of touch, got caught up in your own separate worlds. and now you’re here, sitting side by side like no time has passed at all, even though everything is different.

you let out a slow breath. “it’s weird.”

woonhak turns his head toward you. “what is?”

“this.” you gesture vaguely at the space around you. “being here with you again. it’s like… i feel like a kid, but i also feel so much older.”

woonhak nods. “yeah. i know what you mean.”

you both sit in silence for a while, the weight of reality settling between you.

finally, woonhak sighs. “well, if it makes you feel any better, i think we’d be terrible adults.”

you blink. “excuse me?”

“i’m just saying.” he smirks. “if we actually had our own place, we’d probably forget to pay rent and get evicted.”

you huff. “speak for yourself. i’d be responsible.”

“yeah, right.” he snorts. “you can barely remember your own homework.”

you scowl, shoving his arm. “shut up.”

he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. and for a moment, the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.

because yeah, maybe growing up isn’t what you thought it would be. maybe it’s harder, messier, lonelier than you ever expected.

but at least you’re not going through it alone.

the night has stretched long, and the air has cooled down, transitioning from a deep navy into a soft purple as dawn inches closer. it’s almost like time itself is slow and measured tonight. the stars blink lazily above you, the cool breeze tousling your hair, carrying the scent of the earth below you.

you sit still for a while, your body growing tired from both the weight of the day and the endless thoughts that have been gnawing at you. everything feels heavy, life, school, your responsibilities, and even the breeze, once a source of comfort, now feels too sharp.

woonhak, beside you, doesn’t seem to notice the shift in mood. after a long, quiet stretch, he stretches his arms over his head and yawns. “alright, should we head inside before we both freeze to death?”

you look out over the roof, the world below you a distant blur. the window, which was once a gateway to a carefree childhood, is now a reminder of time passing, of a world that doesn’t stop moving, even when you wish it would.

but the roof... this place.

if you go inside now, it’ll mean this moment is over.

that childhood is gone, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

you look at the spot where you and woonhak spent hours as kids, where you built forts and told stories, and you can’t help but feel a pang of loss, a fear that this may be the last time you’re here.

“…let’s stay out a little longer.”

woonhak raises an eyebrow, surprised. “we’ve been out here for hours.”

“one last time,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. but you feel a firmness in your words. a certainty. this moment, this feeling, you don’t want to let it go just yet.

woonhak looks at you, his gaze softening as he processes your words. then, with a deep sigh, he smiles, though it’s tinged with something wistful. “this better not be the last time,” he says, his voice laced with a gentle teasing. “we are doing this forever, alright?”

his words make you smile too, even if a small part of you feels a lump in your throat.

“promise,” you reply, holding his gaze, your heart flickering with a strange mix of nostalgia and hope.

without another word, you both stand, stretching the stiffness out of your limbs. there’s no need for instructions or discussions, you both just get to work, the way you always used to.

you drag out the newly washed old blankets you used to use, the ones that were never quite warm enough in the winter but still held memories of late-night talks and laughter. the same old blankets that used to be your world, the fortress against everything.

woonhak pulls out an old set of fairy lights that were tucked away in a forgotten box near the corner of the roof. they’re a little tangled, the wires in knots, but that doesn’t matter. with a few quick tugs and a soft chuckle, he untangles them, plugging them into a portable battery. they flicker for a second, then glow warmly, casting a soft golden hue over the roof.

“think these still work?” he asks, holding them up to you.

“only one way to find out.” you grin, feeling that familiar spark of excitement you’d had as a kid whenever you did something rebellious, something just for the fun of it.

the lights, despite their age, shine beautifully, and you both begin the process of setting up your little roof fort again. you drape the blankets over the wooden railing, pinning them down with the same random objects you used, an old book, a lantern, a spare jacket. it’s almost like nothing has changed at all, except the years between then and now.

there’s a certain peace in the process. no rushing, no stressing, just the shared understanding that this is something you both needed. something you both wanted.

once the fort is built, you crawl under it, lying side by side just like you used to. the smell of the blankets, the coolness of the night air, and the soft flicker of the fairy lights above, all of it feels like a thread connecting the past to the present.

for a while, neither of you speaks. the silence isn’t uncomfortable; it’s just... right. you don’t need to say anything. just being here is enough.

eventually, woonhak shifts beside you, stretching his arms above his head. “you know…” he says, his voice a little softer than usual. “i think we’ll always end up here. no matter how much things change.”

his words settle in the air between you, heavy but comforting. you turn your head toward him, your eyes catching the faint light of the fairy lights, tracing the lines of his face.

“yeah,” you reply softly, your voice barely audible above the breeze. “i think so too.”

there’s a certain gravity in the words. the weight of time passing, of growing up. things are different now. the world is no longer just the two of you, running through the streets, carefree and invincible. now, there are responsibilities, pressures, expectations. it’s not easy, and sometimes it feels like the weight of it all is too much.

but in this moment, here on the roof, with woonhak beside you, it’s like nothing else matters. the outside world doesn’t exist. the deadlines, the classes, the constant ache of growing up. it all fades into the background.

you can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, steady and calming, as you close your eyes, letting the world fall away.

the wind brushes across your face, the chill a reminder that the night is drawing closer to the morning. the blanket between you feels like a barrier, but not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. it’s just a safe distance, something familiar, comforting.

after a while, you feel him shift again. this time, instead of pulling away, he scoots just a bit closer, as though subconsciously bridging the distance between you. without even thinking, you shift as well, turning so that your heads are closer, both of you now lying on your sides, facing each other.

a wave of sudden comfort washes over you. it feels almost automatic, this closeness. and though the thought of cuddling as a grown-up feels strange, this moment. this quiet, simple connection, isn’t awkward.

woonhak’s arm ends up draped over your shoulder, just like it did when you were kids. you don’t think, you just let it happen. it’s natural, like slipping into an old, worn sweater that you thought you had lost.

he’s warm, and for a brief moment, you let yourself forget everything else. the worries, the responsibilities, the things you couldn’t control. here, with woonhak beside you, it’s just you, in the moment, safe and whole.

he exhales quietly. “this is nice,” he says, almost as though to himself.

“yeah,” you murmur in agreement, your own eyes slipping shut. “it is.”

you both lie there in silence for a while longer. neither of you speaks, but the weight of the night, of the conversation, the memories, all of it settles into a gentle lull.

the air is still cool, but the warmth of the blanket, the comfort of each other’s presence, makes it feel like the most perfect place in the world.

and despite everything, the growing pains, the uncertainty about the future, you feel at peace. even if it’s just for a moment, even if it’s just under a blanket on the roof, it’s enough.

—

tysm for reading :>

series taglist : @somber-reads @saritahwang

bnd taglist : @bxnedo

perm taglist : @s0shroe @minoouz @the0p @mon2sunjinsuver

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[finclgicls]

finding him had been harder than the search itself. there was no grand relief, no triumphant moment. just a numb, hollow sense of arrival. maggie had always imagined that the end of the road would bring answers—some closure, maybe. but all it had done was unravel her further. she didn’t find her father, not really. she found an old man with his face and voice, sure, but none of the weight that made those things matter. there was nothing familiar in his eyes. they were vacant, lost in some echo chamber of the mind. he mumbled nonsense, stared at walls like they held secrets, and flinched at shadows that weren’t even there. whatever made him him had long since left the building. against every desperate instinct that screamed for denial, maggie had no choice but to sign the damn papers. it had been abby who took the pen from her, who made the call, because maggie couldn't bear to. not after what happened that night. one wild swing with a bat, a spray of pain across her temple, and the undeniable truth that the man they found wasn’t someone who could just go home with them. the headache still hadn’t gone away, and maybe it never would—maybe some aches settled in your bones quietly. stubbornly. forever.

visiting him brought its own kind of suffering. the kind she didn't talk about, not even to abby. she went alone most of the time. the sterile smell, the white walls, the way the silence wrapped around everything like plastic. he never responded. never looked at her, not really. maggie wasn’t even sure if he knew she was there. and yet, she kept coming back, like a damn masochist, sinking into that same stiff chair and trying, every single time, to reach him. like maybe if she said the right thing, the man she remembered would come crawling back to the surface. but this time… this time, something cracked through. he said her name. softly, like a whisper from underwater. maggie’s breath caught mid-sentence. she stood, said she’d be right back—though she wasn’t sure why—and stepped out into the hallway, her thoughts still spiraling around that fragile sound. she didn’t even realize her feet had stopped until she was staring at the plaque next to room 304. not his room. not hers. she blinked, confused by her own disoriented mind, until another voice broke through her daze.

“sorry, i—” she started, turning her head, registering the girl standing not too far away.

maggie.

it came again. her name. not from the girl. from behind her. her head snapped toward the door of the room she’d just passed, heart thudding unevenly against her ribs. “did you hear that?” she asked, voice suddenly small, unsure if she was chasing a hallucination or something far worse.

@finclgicls liked for a horror starter. plot: my muse works the night shift at a crumbling psych facility. your muse is visiting someone recently admitted. but there's one room no one goes into — room 304. when the door opens one night, the patient inside knows things about both of them they've never said out loud. the room isn't empty. it remembers. loosely inspired by: session 9 & the taking of deborah logan

temperance wasn't new to the graveyard shift — the flickering lights, the hum of machines, the way silence thickened around 3 a.m. like something alive. she'd learned to ignore the whispers that slithered through the vents and the way room 304 made the air colder, heavier. they moved like muscle memory through the halls, steps slowing as they caught sight of a visitor lingering where they shouldn't be. "you lost?" temperance asked, voice low, guarded. she didn't mention the door ajar behind them, didn't ask why 304 was open when it was supposed to be locked. didn't say a word about the voice that had just murmured both their names from the dark.

[lunaandco]

did it have to be him?

pairing: gavi x ofc

summary: emma works as a social media manager for real madrid. her job would be way easier if she didn't fuck barcelona's star boy in her free time

warnings: smut, hate sex, dirty talk, degradation kink, vaginal penetration, use of condoms, madridista ofc (😔)

masterlist // I do not take requests

In a normal match day, after she got home from work, Emma would be rearranging all the pictures and videos she had taken from the game, to post them the day after in the official social media accounts. But today was different. Real Madrid had lost, so she should have less pictures to post, but she wasn't looking through her gallery.

Emma was bent over her desk, her clothes gone and her cheek pressed against the wood, as Gavi fucked her without any semblance of mercy.

Gavi was like a hunting dog. He always smelled the weaknesses in his opponents. Mere hours earlier he was getting under Vinicius' skin with ease, getting him to start blabbering and fighting. Vini was an easy prey, nerves already on fire, Gavi just had to press the right buttons.

Emma sometimes thought that he had done the same with her. He had known, smelled even, her weakness. He saw her as what she was, the most fragile link in Madrid's structure. Her wandering eye, following him when she should have been taking pictures of her own players.

Gavi had known, and he had acted accordingly.

Emma was sure Gavi could find prettier, more convenient girls. Girls that wouldn't enrage his fans, that wouldn't get him in trouble with the club. But she also knew that she had something those girls didn't, the reason he had come back to her.

The power struggle turned him on like nothing else ever could. She could ruin his life, but they both know she would go down with him if she did. Emma was sure that ripping off the free white and gold merch she got from work fueled him with more adrenaline than stripping a random model from an expensive dress ever could.

After the adrenaline high of playing a game like el Clásico, one would thing Gavi would be tame and pliant, but Emma knew better.

They had gotten together after Bellingham's first Clásico. Emma was working overtime in his passenger seat, queueing and programing as many posts as possible, to make sure her absence wasn't noticed. Her club would want to boast the win, and they would not be happy to know their social media manager was not doing her job properly because she was spreading her legs for the enemy.

Emma had been with many men before Gavi, but no one measured up to him, she had decided as she scrambled to recover her clothes, under his careful watch. A part of her wished she could stay a little bit longer with him, but she did not want Ancelotti of all people questioning why she wasn't available during work hours.

For better or for worse, a week after, Gavi got injured and Emma never heard of him again, until today.

Gavi was subbed in for the last minutes of el Clásico, and immediately stole her attention. He was clearly older, even if only a year had passed. His shoulders cut a broader shape, his gaze was hardened. He still got into fights, got his yellow card, but he seemed... more powerful.

And as he passed next to her, to go back to the locker room, Gavi caught her eye, and Emma knew. She knew he would search for her, go back to her studio apartment and continue what they started a year earlier.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you're really into being made a bitch by a Barça player," grunted Gavi above her. Emma whined in response. It was humiliating, it was degrading. But it made her wetter.

"Is that all you've got?" she snapped back. "You didn't even play ten minutes, you can't be this tired."

The response was a hard slap on her ass that made her gasp, and the hand pushing her head against the desk tangling on her brown curls and pulling her up, until her back was pressed to his hard chest.

"You don't want to play this game, corazón," he mocked, his voice warm against her ear. But Emma does. She wants Gavi to really let go.

His hand came up to squeeze her breast, as his teeth found the flesh of her neck. It was one of the things Emma loved about Gavi, that he would take her body fully, like it belonged to him. And maybe it did.

Emma moaned loudly, her body twitching and the orgasm approaching. It hit her like a train wreck, and Gavi, the little shit, kept fucking her through it, until she was scratching at his arms.

"Please, stop. Too much—" Ovestimulation was making everything painful, but then Gavi stilled, filling the condom as his muscles hardened under her touch.

"I'm sorry—" he gasped. He seemed genuinely apologetic that he hadn't stopped in time.

"It's fine," she replied, caressing the skin she had scratched. "It's fine."

💙❤️

Afterwards, Gavi led her to her own shower, gently washing the sweat off her body.

"I really wanted to do this last time," he confessed. Emma blushed. "You don't have anywhere else to go this time though."

Emma smiled sleepily.

"Don't you, though? I heard Flick has military rules in place. How did you manage to come here?"

"That is classified, corazón," he joked, kissing her lips softly. "Turn around, I'm gonna wash your hair."

Emma hummed. She really liked this gentle side of Gavi.

💙❤️

"We could do this again sometime," offered Gavi, as he put on his jacket. They had cuddled for as long as they could, but he had to leave at 5 am if he wanted to pretend he had been at the hotel the whole night. "Maybe when neither of us is under the restrictions of our clubs."

Emma thought about it. Vacation time, with Gavi. Soft kisses, warm cuddles and hot sex. She could get used to it. And as far as Madrid never knew, she would be safe.

"I would like that."

[craftexchange]

Frequently Asked Questions

What is this?

We are a craft exchange! We'd like to match creative people who want to trade their skills - think about trading a knit sweater for a set of jewelry! Any craft is welcome :)

How do I participate?

Submit a post to our /submit page! (Or send an ask, whatever works)

What should my post look like?

Great question! Each post should have two main parts, an offering section and an ISO section. Your offering section should be a list of things you can trade - finished works, craft supplies, whatever goes! These are things you can use to trade. Your ISO (in search of) section should be a list of things you want. Please be clear so people who want to trade can find you easily!

Please also include a tag for a good blog to reach you at (the one you're submitting from works fine), as well as general areas you are located and comfortable shipping to. Feel free to indicate this by selecting the appropriate tag on the submit page, but please include it in the body of the submission as well so we don't have to ask you to clarify!

What happens next?

People can comment under each post if they can fulfill the other half of a potential trade - please tag the original poster just so they see your comment! From there, feel free to work out the exact details of a good trade. This part's up to you! Please feel free to let us know if a trade went well, we'll happily reblog showing off your work :) For examples of previous trades gone right, check out #trademail!

Other rules?

Please note that no payment of any form in exchange for crafts will be accepted or tolerated, this is meant to be a good old fashioned barter economy. Anyone found soliciting money for their work will be banned from the page. We also do not take responsibility for trades falling through - we will ban folks who don't play by the rules, but we cannot control anything beyond posting on here!

I just submitted, why can't I see my submission?

A few reasons: we are currently run by one person with limited time, so it takes us a bit to properly tag and sort posts. This blog also runs on a rough queue (adjusting a little for relevant area of the world), so it might take some time for your post to show up on here once tagged. Finally, we don't post submissions on Saturdays - show and tell Saturday tends to quickly bury a post, and we'd hate for a submission to get lost in the madness!

What do these tags mean?

#modmail - general tag for answered asks and posts from the moderator

#trademail - pictures of finished trades we've been tagged in!

#show and tell saturday - relatively self-explanatory, but a catch all tag for posts on show and tell Saturday!

[naisilla]

Heartsteel x Reader

Heart Stolen.

Content: You make some new online friends

The lobby was empty. Your icon stood alone amongst the five spaces. No one showed up tonight. You sigh, leaving your mouse hovering over the 'find match' button. Was it worth gaming tonight?

You didn't blame the others. Now that high school was over, everyone had begun branching out into their new lives. Some grew further than others. At least everyone kept in touch through Discord. But tonight, only you were online.

It's a shame. You didn't get the privilege of being able to stay up late as frequently as the others because of the work shifts you had. Some days, you have to wake up early in the morning at 5. On others, you finished the closing shift at 9. To get enough sleep, you would have to go to bed before your friends would even get online to game.

The only nights you could indulge yourself were nights before your days off. Three nights a week, you could finally catch up with your friends. If only they were available those nights. Sometimes, they were busy, tired, or "not in the mood." Honestly, it pissed you off.

Looks like it was turning out to be another lonely night, another disappointment. You weren't mad at your friends, but it would be nice to have some company tonight. Your eyes trained onto your monitor. The find match button beckons you.

Finding a match alone was a little intimidating. What if you messed up and made a mistake that cost your team? You were a little sensitive to mean comments. Going competitive where players were toxic didn't seem so alluring anymore.

A defeated sigh escapes your lips. You needed to become emotionally independent. Perhaps a warm up game might calm your nerves. Dragging your mouse, you select draft pick and choose bot lane for your autofill. Finally, you click Find Match.

You wait with bated breath as your client searches for a match. With each passing second, you became increasingly regretful of your decision. You should've just given up on gaming and gone with binge watching something.

The client suddenly displays the message "Match Found!" and you get grouped with four strangers onto a team. You're assigned bot lane, and you go to select your ADC. After clicking on "Daughter of the void." you pause. Another player had also selected an ADC champion.

You hiss under your breath. "Shit." this was awkward. One of you needed to go support, but this other player had already chosen "The Weapon of the Faithful." You squint, taking a look at their username, 신자의 무기.

Korean? On an Oceania server? How strange. A message pops up in the lobbies chat window. EZ: uh oh EZ: glwt

Sighing, you force yourself to scan through the available supports, both in your inventory and free rotation. "Maven of the strings" had a simple kit right? Honestly, you weren't sure but the countdown was ticking and you needed to pick something.

Perhaps you could dodge? You wouldn't mind waiting in queue with low priority. You frown as a spike of determination hits you. No way you were backing out, you were assigned bot. This other player was given support, it should be them dealing with this.

10 seconds left

Ugh how serious was this matchup anyways?

5 seconds left

Screw it you're dodging this.

Your mouse clicks on the exit button and you breathe a sigh of relief as your client continued to search for another match. A blue light reflects in your eye as another 'match found' widget pops up on your client and you readily accept it.

What the fuck!?

To your disbelief you get thrown into another lobby matchup with 신자의 무기 and EZ.

EZ: no way...

You groan and rub your temple before leaning forward in your seat and typing into the chat:

(Y/U/N): Hey, do you want to go ADC or SUPP?

Your eyes remain fixated as they await a response...

A little blip appears on your screen, drawing your attention to the friend request from 신자의 무기. You frown, you don't typically accept friend requests from anyone you don't personally know. But it wouldn't hurt to select 'accept' if it doesn't go well you can always block them.

Seconds after accepting the request you receive a message, a discord link.

This isn't a bot is it?

Your monitor switches over to Discord inviting you to join a server "The Boyz". You can feel hesitation in joining the group, the last thing an introvert like you wanted was to listen to another one of those obnoxiously loud and annoying boys that scream on call like a prepubescent loltyler1.

Screw it, you had already gone out of your comfort zone enough might as well continue the streak.

You join the call:

"AYO THEY JOINED!"

The Discord call erupted in a chorus of excited greetings from EZ, his icon almost glowing a constant green from his excited chatter. You were surprised by how charming and friendly his voice sounded, nothing like the usual screamers you're used to on voice chat.

"Hello (Y/U/N)" says 자의 무기, his voice is barely louder than a whisper, yet it still manages to cut through the noise with surprising ease.

"Hey!" You chime back, trying to match their energy.

"Sorry about the misunderstanding with Phel, he's new to League." You tilt your head in interest. Phel? That's an odd name.

"Liar" Phel retorts. "I wasn't paying attention to my role, sorry for stealing your adc."

"Don't worry about it." You reply reassuringly.

"Wanna try again? I can go "The Redeemer" as support."

"Sure let's give it a shot."

And just like that, you were now playing with two new friends. It didn't take long for you to find two extra random players to join your team in lobby and this time there was no drama in champ select.

The match starts spawing your and your teammates on the blue side, you and phel guide your champions to follow your jungler to leash at the red buff. While you wait at camp for the brambleback to spawn you decide to try and get to know these two.

"So is Phel short for something? I've never heard a name like that before."

"Oh uh yeh, My actual name is Aphelios."

You raise a brow intrigued. "Where does that originate from?"

"I believe it's Greek, roughly translates to: far from the sun"

"Oh? Are you Greek?"

You can hear Ez snort. "He most definitely isn't"

"I'm Korean actually."

"Ah I see, I didn't want to assume from your username."

Aphelios laughs, his voice so soft and delicate.

The red brambleback crawls out of the ground and you jump straight into lowering it's hp with your auto attacks and Q, Letting your jungler finish it off before moving onto the krugs.

"I also have a very interesting name too" Ez chimes in, his voice slightly whining at the end. A chuckle escapes your mouth.

"My bad, what's your name then Ez?" You ask, voluntarily taking the bait as you and Aphelios walk to the middle of bot lane.

You can feel Ez smirking over the voice call his voice reverberates in your headset. "It's Jarro" His voice goes on a tangent explaining the origin of his name while you focus on your bot lane as you come across the enemy team. "The Sheriff of Piltover" and an "Empress of the elements"

"The plauge rat" suddenly appears in front of you, landing two auto's as you back away sending your Q missiles at him. Damn they ganking this early?

You fall back, trading attacks with the enemy adc as the red minions crash your wave, heading towards your first turret. Jarro is still rambling on.

"So what's your name?" Jarro asks, his voice finally breaking into your focus.

"I'm (Y/N)."

Jarro let's out an "ahh" in response, his tone warm and friendly. "What does that mean?"

You shrug even though no one can actually see you. "I don't know it's just my name." you say, your eyes darting from the screen to the vc every now and then.

"I think you have a nice name." Aphelios says, he had been quiet up till this point, also focusing on your lane as you traded with the enemy laners together. There's a soothing quality to his soft-spoken voice. Despite his shyness, he felt compelled to compliment you on your name.

"Thanks but I really can't be compared to a name like yours, you sound like you're a fantasy character."

a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He didn't see himself as a fantasy character, and he was never comfortable with accepting compliments.

"My name is nice too right Phel?" Jarro's voice chimes in cheekily fishing for compliments.

Aphelios lets out a soft sigh and rolls his eyes at Jarro's question. He knows he is only looking for compliments, but it's all in good fun.

"Yes, Jarro, yours is nice too." He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aphelios glances at your profile on his screen and his expression softens.

The next few minutes are solely focused on your laning. You play your champion passively using your ranged W to your advantage while your health is low as you focus on poking the enemies from a safe distance while farming.

Shortly after, your jungler comes down from jungle and you aggressively go in to chase down the support who tries to run back to their turret. The enemy adc is slain by your jungler, leaving it just between you and the empress. You ignore your low health and follow them as she runs, she casts ignite but with a single W you take the kill then quickly recall in a bush.

"That was close, good job (Y/N)" Aphelios says, you smile.

"Thanks."

You notice the dragon is up and your jungler is pinging it, you cancel your recall and quickly take care of it before the enemy laners can get there. You run around the dragon camp picking up the honey fruit as the three of you go to recall in the bush behind dragon.

The enemy adc appears in your vision, walking towards your bush where the three of you hide, poor thing walked right into her death. You can hear a "pfft" pick up on Aphelios mic as you finally recall to base.

The game continues as you return back to farming minions and trading with the enemy bot laners, Aphelios manages to take out the adc forcing the support to go into a bush and recall before he can chase her down. You make sure to place a vision ward at the bottom of the river to keep an eye out for enemy ganks while Aphelios goes to the top to place another.

The support returns and begins to attack you and boy does she hurt, you fall back as your health bar is hacked at. Lucky Aphelios returns to bot to heal you and you both go back to pressing on as the jungler chases the enemy midlaner nearby, killing her. The three of you easily over powering the other two as the adc dies and the support retreats leaving their turret vunrable.

You enter the mid game phase and things are going good, none of your turrets have been taken down yet. You did die shortly after taking their turret but you were quick to bounce back. There was a comfortable silence in the chat when suddenly you hear someone humming.

Surprisingly Aphelios starts humming, not just generically either, whatever tune is in his head is a beautiful melody. His voice was so smooth and delicate, the way it danced along the notes in perfect rhythm, it was enchanting.

You feel nervous bringing it up but eventually, your thoughts escape through your lips. "Wow, your singing voice is so beautiful Phel."

Aphelios' humming stops abruptly, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I thought I muted my headset."

"What are you apologizing for? You have a great voice my guy" Jarro voice says.

You nod from behind your screen looking back to Aphelios' icon. "He's right you genuinely sound good". You say encouragingly.

"Yeh and I know a thing or two about singing." Jarro chimes.

"Oh really pretty boy? You wanna show us what you've got?" Aphelios asks chuckling.

"Nah I wouldn't want to overshadow your spotlight"

You snort rolling your eyes. Focusing hard as you take down another enemy turret.

And so began your new friendship circle with the boys, after a successful league game you would start another, then another. Talking and gaming late into the night.

You were breathless from singing along with the others quite horribly to their request. At least Jarro was also terrible but you could tell that he was singing bad on purpose. Aphelios was too busy laughing his mic barely picking up on the noise as he tries to cover his mouth as Jarro continues to sing on.

"DO YOU THINK TIME, WOULD PASS US BY?

'CAUSE YOU KNOW I'D WALK A THOUSAND MILES

IF I COULD SEE YOU TONIGHT BANANANANANANANNAA-" Jarro started to sing the riff in a terrible screech the gain on his mic becoming painful to hear.

Aphelios is practically in tears at this point, his face red from laughing so hard. He covers his mouth with his hand, desperate to hold in his laughter, but it's futile. His shoulders shake from the effort, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he laughs. He is having the time of his life, sharing this moment of laughter with the friends he had quickly grown fond of.

He lets out a gasp, trying to catch his breath between fits of laughter.

"Stop… stop, I… I can't breathe.."

He tries to speak, but he can hardly get the words out through his laughter. His breathing is ragged, but he manages to force out a few more words between giggles.

"You guys are… the worst… singers… I've ever heard.."

Jarro and you let out an obnoxious gasp, mocking offense. "

"Excuse me?! Worst singers?" Jarro exclaims loudly, dramatically placing his hand over his heart.

"I'll have you know we are both phenomenal vocalists." Jarro crosses his arms, lifting his chin up in a fake air of superiority.

Aphelios can't help but laugh harder at Jarros exaggerated reaction. He tries to bite his lip to keep from laughing, but the mirth is too strong and his laughter escapes in a series of short gasps and giggles. He wipes a tear from his eye, his cheeks flushed from the laughter.

"Seriously, you're all terrible… Especially you, Ez…"

He says, shooting an amused grin towards Jarro's avatar.

The days passed and the friendship between you and the boys, Jarro and Aphelios, continued to strengthen with each game. Hours spent gaming, laughing, and creating memories together.

Late-night calls filled with laughter, banter, and the occasional musical performance, became the norm.

Both Jarro and Aphelios found themselves looking forward to the moments they spent gaming with you, considering you a valuable and entertaining member of their gaming circle.

Ez, remains as cheerful and energetic as ever, always ready to make you laugh with his dumb jokes.

Aphelios especially began to open up more and more, sharing bits and pieces of himself with you. You had learned that he was currently stationed in Perth Australia, which surprised you as you yourself were living in Sydney.

Apparently, he and his twin sister were long-term exchange students at one of the local universities...

"Oh cool! What are you studying over there?" You asked your voice sounding enthusiastic.

Aphelios would scratch the back of his neck behind his monitor shyly as he bashfully answered. "Oh, I'm taking the Composition and Music Technology course."

A low whistle picks up from Jarros's mic. "Sheesh Phel I didn't think asian parents let their kids do anything other than be a lawyer or doctor."

Aphelios rolls his eyes at Jarro's comment, scoffing slightly.

"Well, I'm a rare exception to that stereotype I suppose."

He says, a small smile on his lips. Despite his shy exterior, he had a hint of sass when it came to his responses at times.

"My parents are surprisingly supportive of my interests, especially my music. As long as I'm working hard and pursuing something I'm passionate about, they're happy."

Jarro nods along with a chuckle. "Hey don't you live in Aussie too y/n?"

"Yep I'm over a few states though, down in Newcastle."

"Newcastle? Where the hell is that?"

You glare at Jarro's icon. "It's in New South Wales."

"..."

"A few hours above Sydney"

"Ah Sydney! Why didn't you say so!?"

You and Aphelios collectively roll your eyes in unison.

"What about you Jarro? You have an Oceania account so you should be either here or New Zealand?"

Jarro's cheeky chuckle can be heard again in your headset. "Nah I'm over in beautiful Canada."

You can't help but let out a confused sound. "Canada? Sir are you lost? How is your ping not crashing your PC on lol?"

Jarro's chuckle returns, unperturbed. "Well, I figured I'd come over here and show you Aussies how it's really done."

He boasts, his ego as big as ever.

"And let's face it, the competition's just a little easier over here."

He adds, a smirk evident in his voice, and Aphelios rolls his eyes again.

You enjoyed having these online friends, they were almost always available to hang out with after your shifts at the cafe, no matter how exhausting your day was Jarro and Aphelios were always there to help you destress. You were more than grateful for those two.

Aphelios would occasionally share his music projects for his assignments with you on the group server, he was certainly talented at composing pieces. His base work was giving indie, atmospheric, lofi but he would try and experiment with other genres to fit the criteria of the assignment.

"Why don't you try singing over some of these tracks?" You ask after finished listening to another one of his pieces.

Aphelios responds a bit shyly, a hint of self-consciousness in his tone. He's never had much confidence in his singing, even though he loves music.

"I mean… Singing for fun is one thing, but performing in front of a whole class is a lot of pressure. I'm not sure if my voice is good enough for that…"

Jarro chimes in, his tone light and casual, as usual.

"Oh, come on, Phel. Your voice is seriously amazing, you don't give yourself enough credit."

He reassures him, trying to boost his confidence

"You're a talented composer and you've got a killer vocal range. You should definitely try singing for your class, I'm sure they'll love it. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Aphelios lets out a soft sigh, considering Jarro's words. His friend's confidence is endearing.

"I suppose you have a point… But it's still nerve-wracking, you know? What if they don't like it? Or what if I make a mistake?"

You shake your head, quickly disagreeing with him.

"Come on, you're being too hard on yourself Phel. I've heard you sing before, your voice is beautiful. You could easily charm the whole class with those smooth vocals."

You reassure him, genuinely believing in his talent.

Aphelios smiles at your words, his heart feeling a bit lighter. He was grateful to have friends like you and Jarro who believed in him and encouraged him.

"I don't know… I'm just not used to people hearing my voice outside of you guys, you know? It's kind of intimidating…"

He admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Look you don't even have to sing in front of everyone, you can record from the privacy of your home then when you go to present all you have to do is press the play button"

Aphelios slowly nods his head in agreement, considering your suggestion.

"That… That sounds tempting…It would definitely take away the pressure of performing in front of a live audience… That's not a bad idea, actually. I guess that would still count for the assignment…"

He says thoughtfully, his mind running through the idea. Recording from the comfort of his own home does sound less intimidating than having to perform in front of the entire class.

Jarro chimes in again from the other side, his tone cheerful and encouraging.

"That's the spirit, Phel! Record it at home, give it a few final touches, and then just hit play in class. Easy peasy."

He says, seeming to like your suggestion, too.

This is what friends are for right? Supporting each other and encouraging them to reach their full potential? Aphelios could definitely count on you two for that, behind that little discord profile a small smile appeared on his lips, barely illuminated by the glow of his monitor.

And that's how you convinced your online friend to give singing an actual shot. You and Jarro could only laugh and give knowing "I told you so" looks when Aphelios would return the next gaming session flustered by how well his classmates took his singing. He had become a local star in his university overnight.

"I guess singing in front of the class wasn't as terrifying as I thought. They actually seemed to like it… a lot."

He confesses, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he speaks.

"I don't know what to do, I've never had this much attention before… It's a bit overwhelming…"

Jarro grins, clearly enjoying Aphelios' newfound popularity.

"See, I told you they would love it. You're a natural talent, Phel. It's about time people started noticing."

He says, sounding proud of his friend.

"Don't let it go to your head though, you're still the same shy guy that we know and love".

He teases, chuckling.

You giggle along with him. "Don't forget about us while you're famous."

Aphelios had yet to get use to his immediate rise of popularity, it was as if all of a sudden everyone in the university had him on their radar.Typical mornings of quietly walking to and from classes, hiding under an oversized hoodie had now changed to being stopped by every student in the hall to be greeted.

All of a sudden the quiet invisible introvert was now the center of attention with people wanting his insta, to being invited to hang out during lunch and even a few girls and guys admitting their crushes to him.

It was overwhelming to Aphelios in a positive way, it felt really good to be liked by everyone. He finally felt this surge of confidence boost his social life. He had begun to upload covers and original songs to youtube. While he didn't become viral online, he did gain plenty of likes and views (most of said views came from Jarro and yourself).

It had been a few months since he took that first step out of his comfort zone. However, he still found himself hanging around you and Jarro more than anyone else. You were still the people he trusted the most and the ones he felt the most comfortable around. He didn't need to be "popular" or "cool" around you two. You always had his back.

Jarro, always the supportive friend, was ecstatic for Aphelios as he watched his confidence grow. He often joked about how he was a proud "big brother" watching his "little bro" succeed.

Meanwhile, you were more than happy to see Aphelios blossom in his newfound popularity. You'd often chat with him about classes, school life, and of course, music. The three of you had grown closer, not just online friends but real friends.

It once again was a night where you were all on to game, you had started the call in the group chat and chatted to Jarro about your day while the two of you awaited for Aphelios to join. Classes were over according to this week's schedule which meant he should've joined by now.

"Have you heard anything from Aphelios? He's running late" you say as you type to mention Aphelios in the group chat to get his attention.

Jarro on the other end shakes his head. "Nah he still hasn't responded to my dm."

You frown. "You think something's up?"

"Unlikely, he's only half an hour late. He probably got caught up by another one of his fans~" he says with a chuckle.

Just as Jarro says that the tiny pop up "Aphelios is typing" your immediately notice it your eyes widening as you await his message.

신자의 무기 is typing...

신자의 무기: Sorry guys I'm feeling sick, I've got a cold so I can't really join vc.

As you read his message, a mixture of concern and disappointment washed over you.

Jarro, who was also reading the message, let out a sigh. He had been looking forward to gaming with Aphelios as usual, but it seemed like it wasn't going to happen tonight.

"He can still play right? just not talk?" You ask with a hopeful tone in your voice.

Jarro's icon glows green as his mic picks up him typing your question into chat.

Aphelios replies with a thumbs up.

You knew Aphelios would be unable to chat for a couple of days but it had been over a week since Aphelios had gotten sick, you were starting to worry for him.

Opening your dm's with him you begin to type.

(Y/U/N): Hey Phel, still got the cold?

신자의 무기 is typing...

신자의 무기: Yeh, it's just a sore throat... it won't go away.

You frown while reading this.

(Y/U/N): Have you considered seeing a doctor?

신자의 무기: Actually I have an appointment later this afternoon.

You sigh a little relieved.

(Y/U/N): Ok good

(Y/U/N): Update us when you can k?

Aphelios replies with a cute emote of a cartoon bunny with a thumbs up, making you smile.

(Y/U/N): ight see you later

And so you and Jarro would spend the afternoon gaming while you waited for Aphelios to come back online. You were in the middle of laughing at one of Jarro's jokes when you noticed he's gone quiet.

"Jarro?" You ask, checking if he's there.

"(Y/N) check the group chat."

You had barely noticed the discord notification sound, clicking on your task bar where awaited two messages from Aphelios.

신자의 무기: Guys

신자의 무기: I have some bad news.

A/N: And I finally did it! Chapter 1!! Lets fucking go!!! Original Heartsteel lore!!!!

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part one

joel masterlist | series masterlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: your dad finally takes you to have your car fixed, where you meet joel miller — dangerously handsome and charming beyond words word count: 3,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied and wears a dress, description of a rather useless boyfriend, strained father-daughter relationship, probably highly incorrect information about cars, smutty thoughts a/n: i watched one single fifteen minute video about changing brakes, so if anyone needs a bootleg mechanic you can hmu and i'll be there 🫡 endless hugs & head pats to @frannyzooey for not only all the help on this chapter, but all the kindness & encouragement overall 💜

Your car’s had warning lights on for probably a dangerous amount of time. You’d told your dad numerous times what was going on, not that it mattered all that much to him because the car still gets you from A to B and maybe if you drove a bit more delicately then these things wouldn’t need maintenance so often.

If you turn the music up loud enough it just drowns all that out – both the warnings and your dad’s constant berating. Coming home one night, you try one last time to ask him for help.

“Some jackass cut right across me on the freeway, I made sure he knew exactly what I thought of him though. Lucky I didn’t fly out through the windshield when I slammed on my brakes, considering there's more warnings on my dash than on a fuckin’ storm-season weather report.”

That seemed to do the trick, God, if only you’d done this a month ago. Suddenly he was scouring his search and call history for some mechanic he’d been to for his own car – “Miller’s Auto Repair”, though he doesn’t know who the Miller in question is, saying he dealt with some young boy named Eddie with greasy hair and stains on his shirt to match.

He found some time in his oh-so-busy schedule to go with you. Was he about to lecture you on your attitude? Definitely, but at least your car’s going to be fixed.

-

You park in the street behind your dad and haul yourself out of your car, walking up to meet him. Taking in the place, it looks decent enough – tools scattered around, a young guy working on a car on a lift, plastic chairs and a steel leg table off to one side. Maybe decent is a slight exaggeration, but it’s spacious and airy and doesn’t reek of sweat and toxic masculinity. You’re certainly out of place, the sun blazing down on you in your simple daisy-print dress and you feel slightly overdressed.

An older man comes out of a partitioned-off room, the drywall not quite reaching the rafters and sheet metal above. He’s wearing well-fitted and surprisingly chic black coveralls — a hint of skin peeking from behind the lapel, cuffs buttoned up below his elbows, belt around his hips and there are even pleats in the pant legs. And you thought you were overdressed. You mindlessly smooth out your dress, suddenly feeling like you haven’t made enough of an effort.

It’s not that you were expecting someone unattractive, but the man waltzing towards you is criminally handsome — if only you could find a boy your own age who looked like this. A part of you is actually jealous your dad found this place before you did.

He reaches out to both you and your father with a firm handshake, “Name’s Joel. What can I do for ya?”

“My daughter here’s been having some car troubles.” He gestures to you and you notice Joel gives you a once-over and nods.

Taking the silence as your queue to speak, you start listing everything gone wrong with your car. “First it told me the brake pads need changing, and that was about, what, six weeks ago now?” You glare at your dad, your tongue in your cheek and arms tight across your chest.

“Told you I’ve been busy, you know this.” He matches your look and you turn your attention back to Joel, rolling your eyes and he smirks ever so slightly.

“Aircon needs regassing, and the headlights don’t seem to want to go bright anymore.”

“Well, lights and aircon are quick fixes, can do both right now for you, not expensive. I’ll take a look at the brakes and see if we have sets here that’ll work and let you know about that.”

Your dad excuses himself when his phone starts ringing, leaving you alone with Joel.

“So why’d you bring your dad with? You seem capable enough to me.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head.

“I’d rather not have some macho mechanic clock me from a mile away, and end up getting handled for knowing fuck all about cars. No offence.” Joel smiles at your brash commentary, leaning closer towards you. “Wouldn’t do that to a pretty girl like you. Cute dress, those your favourite?”

You’re not quite sure what he’s talking about, to be honest — a fog came over your mind after ‘pretty girl’ fell from his lips and you stand there in silence, mouth hanging open in a daze.

He leans to the side and points to your chest, snapping you back to reality. “The daisies on your dress? That your favourite flower?”

“Oh! No, uh…” Your voice fades off, unsure of what to do about the heat creeping up your neck and into your ears.

 Joel just smirks at you. “You can bring in that car of yours onto the lift, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, your dad ending his call and he’s already asking questions about the cost of all this work. Getting in your car again, you’re flustered. All this man has done is call you sweetheart and pretty once and it’s all you can think about. You pull your car up to the shop, lining up with the lift as best you can and roll down your window.

Joel leans into the open window with a slanted smile, voice low enough for just you to hear him, “Lined up perfectly there, just go slow and I’ll tell you when to stop,” and God if that doesn’t have your mind racing. You give him a weak smile and manoeuvre your car onto the lift, stopping when he raises his hand. Pulling the bonnet lever and climbing out, you move to stand with your dad again, stepping over discarded rags and dried oil stains.

Joel does what looks to you like a whole lot of fiddling and tapping and knocking of random car parts under the bonnet, and takes the light covers off to change the bulbs; he takes a wheel off and checks the brakes and you watch him the whole time. Skilled and calloused hands moving with ease, your mind wanders off to what else he’s good at with his hands. Crouching down to feel around a toolbox, his coveralls pull tight around his ass and thighs. That heat you felt a few minutes ago only getting worse just from watching him work, embarrassment washing over you – though not enough to look away.

Everything looks like it’s back in place and he lowers the lift, walking towards you and your dad. “Gas and bulbs are done, should be good as new now. Brakes you’re gonna have to come back for, though. Eddie just used the last of the pads and discs you need on that car there, but we can get 'em easily enough, should be here next week.” You nod at him, not sure if it’s easier to look him in the eye or avoid him altogether.

“And you can’t get them any sooner? Or, how long are these current ones gonna be safe for? I’m out of town again next week and–”

“It’s fine, next week is fine.” You put a hand out to cut your dad off and shake your head. You’re really not in the mood for his entitlement, and truthfully you’re looking forward to the chance to come here again without him.

“You gonna manage on your own?” he asks, his tone almost mocking and eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” you chirp back, voice curt and monotone.

“You sure?” Of course, he wasn’t going to believe you were capable.

“I’ll get Jake to come with me. It’s fine. Really.”

Right, Jake – your boyfriend. Someone you should’ve been thinking of a long time ago, when instead you were all but undressing Joel with your eyes, imagining the nice things he’d do for you, with you, to you.

You and Jake have been together just over a year now, slept together a handful of times, and all around he’s a decent guy. You met while you both were in training and were given the same placements for industry experience. He’s never done anything inherently bad to you, but lately, you’ve found yourself putting more and more distance between you — subconsciously initially, but now it feels more like a chore to spend time with him.

He’s been sweet and kind to you from the start, but it would be nice to have him make an effort every so often, brag about you, show you off. His grand plan for celebrating your anniversary was taking you out for lunch and calling it a day; if he visits while your dad’s around, the two of them spend more time talking than you do. It’s been about two months since he fucked you, if you could even call it that, and you’re tired of either faking an orgasm or reassuring him it’s fine you never came when you forget to put on the act at all.

You can’t picture someone like Joel giving you such mediocre treatment and being satisfied with that, living life so blissfully unaware.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your fog and you notice your dad’s already walked out.

“See you then,” and he retreats with a tilt of his head and a wink.

Fuck it’s going to be a long week.

-

Joel already texted your dad three days ago to say you could come in, and you’ve been oddly nervous about it, your mind racing: what’s gonna be the quietest time to go, I wonder if Joel will be too busy with another job, I should make sure I’m not wearing the same dress again. You even made sure you washed your hair the night before in preparation, scolding yourself the whole time – he’s some random guy fixing your car, not to mention you do have a boyfriend.

Eddie’s nowhere to be seen, Joel’s wearing those same coveralls and there’s music playing from a worktop speaker.

“Afternoon, princess,” he holds your door open, eyes following you across the room, just the same as the week before. “Thought you were bringing a friend – what was his name?”

Fingers toying with the hem of your top, you only hope you made the right decision coming here alone. You’re not worried about something that Joel would say or do, no, but worried about something you yourself might. You never were good at hiding your feelings; you pray he can’t see through you.

“Oh, Jake?” You could keep it a secret and enjoy Joel’s attention a while longer but weighing up your options, maybe it’s better to just be honest with him. “He’s my boyfriend. He was uh, busy… today. So, just me.” He doesn’t need to know you never even asked Jake to accompany you to begin with.

“Is it cool if I stay while you work?” you ask timidly. “I can get a ride home though, if you’d prefer.”

“It’s no trouble, here.” He pulls a stool towards you, wiping it off with a smile. Joel gets to work on your car and it’s like a show, just for you. Definitely the right choice to come alone, you smile to yourself.

“So this boyfriend of yours, what’s he like?” he shouts out from the far side of your car and your smile drops.

“Oh, uh… he’s nice.” He is nice, but you can’t be bothered to think of anything worthwhile to say about him.

Joel rounds your car to stop and look at you. “Sounds to me like you don’t want ‘nice’.” His eyes trail up and down your figure and you gawk at his remark. Okay, maybe he actually can see right through you.

“Well, my dad really likes him. Says it’s good to have someone to ground you, or whatever.” Joel simply nods in response and turns his attention back to your car.

You take the opportunity to really take him in this time, with no dad around as a source of shame. Thick curls that you would love to run your hands through, sculpted nose, well-trimmed moustache, grey and patchy scruff for a beard, wide back and broad shoulders and firm chest and—

God, you need to think of something else before you get carried away. Again. You look around the room to refocus on something more appropriate, taking in all the arbitrary decor. Dog-eared posters of old rock bands, exposed bulbs dotted between fluorescent lights, a chain of mini chequered flags strung up along the wall.

You risk another look at Joel and see he’s taken two wheels off already, doing more twisting and turning of car parts you never even knew were there in the first place.

“What’s that?”

He looks to you over his shoulder, coveralls pulling tight again over his arms and back.

“What, this? Called a calliper. Holds the brake pads that squeeze against the disc, stopping the car.” You purse your lips, nodding slowly and Joel huffs out a laugh, facing away again. “Got any siblings that need car part lessons?” He continues, “Or better yet, maybe they can teach you instead.”

“Nope, just me. What about you? Any other Millers gracing the town?” You see him shake his head and he chuckles to himself. 

“Got a brother, Tommy. He’s in construction. I worked with him a while back — much prefer this, though. What’s a girl like you do? Working your dream job?”

‘I’m uh, in between jobs, actually. I’m a chef — was a chef.” You look down to your lap, picking your nails. “I quit. Place was full of sexist dickheads. They suggested I put myself forward for promotion, then gave it to some egotistical asshole with both less experience and qualification. So I told them exactly where they could shove their promotion and never went back.”

You sigh and look up and see Joel’s already watching you, a faint smile on his face almost like he’s proud of you for standing your ground. His eyes are a mix of sympathy and understanding — not something you’re often on the receiving end of.

“I know I kinda fucked myself quitting like that, but I was tired of constantly being treated like shit. And not a fuck was I gonna stick around and take orders from a guy like that.” You crack a smile and Joel matches it.

“You keepin’ yourself busy?”

“Trying to figure out what’s next. Not sure if maybe I should do some more training somewhere, expand my skill set y’know, or just find another job. Not very easy with my dad breathing down my neck.” Joel nods, and his keen attention spurs you on. He’s one of few people who have actually listened to you about all this without giving you his own unwanted opinion or unsolicited advice.

“Only real silver lining is having time to pick up some old hobbies again. And talking to you, I guess.” Joel gives you a skew grin and you smile bashfully, lowering your gaze as you feel your cheeks redden.

“So what do you get up to when you’re not talkin’ to me, then?”

“Bits and pieces here and there. It’s been nice to get back into piano again.”

“Keen musician, are you? Play guitar myself, do a lot of the stuff that’s been playing here.”

The mental image of Joel playing guitar is not good for keeping your mind out of the gutter, and you're soon thinking about what one hand looks like plucking away at the strings, the other in a firm grip around the neck. One hand plucking away at you, the other in a firm grip around your neck. You stop yourself before that runs rampant in your mind, focusing on the song playing in the background.

“Wait, can you play In The Gallery?” You lean forward, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, a grin spreading across your face in shock and amazement.

“You know this?” Joel points off in no direction, giving you the same bewildered look, and your expression changes from that of awe to insult.

“Of course I do, it’s Dire Straits. Look, I may know jack shit about cars but I do know other things. Do you sing, too?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, cocking his head to the side. “Do you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You flash a smile and he faces away again.

Joel’s bolted the front wheels back and is busy removing the rear ones when a phone starts ringing above the music.

“Hands a little full here. Can you answer? It’s just on the bench there.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you stand and make your way to find it. Sliding to answer, you hold the phone to one ear and press a finger in the other to drown out the noise, slinking off towards Joel’s office.

-

Joel watches as you walk into his office, phone pressed into your ear. He’s been thinking about you since you arrived with your dad last week, and he’s glad to spend some time hearing what you have to say. And, you know, getting to really look at you without your dad around. 

He thought you looked beautiful in that dress last week — thought what you’d look like out in public with him in that same dress, with his jacket over your shoulders as the air grows cold, you writhing underneath him behind closed doors and waking up in his shirt next to him the following morning. He scolded himself when you drove off last week for allowing himself that indulgence, that twisted fantasy about a girl as young as you — but seeing how you are today, maybe he was right all along.

You’ve been staring at him since you parked, and the way you bite your bottom lip and openly ogle at him when you think he doesn’t notice tells him you’re thinking about the same things, too. 

You seemed shy, scared even, when you first stood in front of him, overshadowed by your father and his clear frustration with you. It seems you have no issue with pushing him, but he can see in the way you stand, closed off, and hear the unease in your constant defence that maybe this eats away at you more than you like to admit. He’s spent a mere two hours with you so far, and you shine when you’re free to say whatever you want, be whoever you want.

Your boyfriend Jake, however — he might be a challenge. Your smile faded when he was mentioned, saying your father’s fond of him, that he’s nice. Maybe you haven’t been together all that long, or on the contrary, been together too long, but if ‘nice’ is his most redeeming quality… He took your indifference and curt response as a sign to not push any further for now, but that boy, whoever he is, clearly doesn’t know how to keep a girl like you happy.

He’s considering fabricating some story of something else that needs repairs on your car just so you’d have a reason to come back, even if under false pretence. You probably would believe him given the evident gaps in your knowledge, but the risk of breaking your trust might not be worth it. He should keep his distance.

He focuses on the task at hand again and finds himself paying extra attention to his work. You won’t recognise good handiwork, but he knows you’ll be excited about having a fully functional car again. It’s not much, but seeing that winning smile spread across your face will be enough for him.

-

Much like Joel himself, it seems, his office is pleasantly well-kept, bar a few too many half-empty coffee mugs and stray papers littering the desk. A tatty plaid-print couch against the back wall, a mini fridge tucked next to the desk, a leather jacket hung over his chair. Blinds drawn and with no sign of Joel approaching, you trace your fingers across the collar, wondering what it would feel like hanging over your own shoulders, arms drowning in the too-long sleeves and you drowning in him.

You leave his office to walk back towards him and Joel raises his eyebrows questioningly, wiping his hands off on a rag. “So?”

“Woman named Hazel? She didn’t leave much of a message, she just asked if you could call her back. Said you’d have her number.” You hand the phone to him, his hands cool compared to the heat burning under your skin.

“Ah, guess I should,” he mumbles, a hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck.

“Hm, so who’s Hazel? Is she pretty?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, a cheeky grin on your face.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Nobody you need to worry about, not my type.” You feel an odd sense of assurance at his admission. “Well, everything’s done, you’re good to go. Your dad paid last week already.”

“And what about all the hard work you put into this? Surely I owe you something for that?”

“You spendin’ the afternoon was payment enough.” He smiles at you, eyes softening. “I’ll see ya round, sweetheart. Come by any time, I mean it. And hey, if you ever need a change of scenery, you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me.”

You’re not entirely sure if he’s seriously offering you a job or just passing it off as banter. It would get you out of the house and put a bit of extra cash in your pockets; you’d get to spend days on end around Joel, watch him work, and maybe get a glimpse into who he is beyond the charming mechanic you know so far. 

It would certainly test your resolve being so close to him. You consider all the afternoons that may look like the one you’ve just had — easy work, no Eddie or other customers around, just you and Joel and the tension between you. You suppose you’d have to find something to do to pass the time on days like these… Then again, do you really want to risk having him see you as just the girl who answers the phone?

Maybe you can fake something, an excuse to bring you back here to see him again. The ruse wouldn’t last long, not when Joel takes one look at the car and sees clear as day there’s nothing wrong, but you can pin it all on inexperience. Either way, you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 12

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader warnings: language, minor political/bau issues mentioned/talked about, smut eluded to. We've come back to the chapters that jump through moments in time! This is also the time that you read this, then skim through the series and see if you can pick up on the foreshadowing cause next chapter is what it was leading up to lol. I'm going to crack down and fly through as many chapters in a row of this series while writing and queue them for once a week. LMK if that timeline seems okay or if it should be more frequent or less, I wanna continue that habit for new series!

Heather was seated at one of the window side tables at Peacock Alley inside the Waldorf, a coffee and a bloody mary in front of her while she looked through the menu. Her gaze drifted out the window, wondering if she was there too early, if you were running behind or if it was a combination of both. Just as she was about to check her phone for both the time and conformation, she spotted what she was sure was your car pulling up to the valet.

Sure enough, you slipped out of it, passing the keys and a wad of cash over to the worker with a sweet smile before tossing your bag onto your arm and making your way to the hotel entrance. Her head tilted in confusion but before she could really get lost in her thoughts you had rounded the corner into the lobby restaurant, sunglasses pushed back onto your head as you glanced around in search of her. A small smile took over your lips when you spotted her, hurrying over to the table.

“You’re early.” You greeted, placing your purse down on the windowsill as you slipped into your seat.

Heather shrugged, “she got clingy, I kicked her out before she could start begging for room service and the girlfriend treatment.”

You nearly snorted, shaking you head at the other woman, “I didn’t realize you were entertaining.”

“Rob’s out of town, both the kids are on campus, you were occupied so I was bored.” She replied, picking up her coffee for a sip when the waiter came over to start you on your own drinks and you figured you may as well match Heather.

“Thought your go to place was the Conrad.” You asked, settling in as your drinks were dropped off and you could take a couple of sips.

“It is. But she was brand new and I wanted to be cautious, figuring we were meeting here in the morning I made it convenient.” She took a sip of her coffee, a brow raised in your direction, “which is why I’m particularly curious as to why you were pulling up to the valet instead of coming from the elevator.”

“I came from home.”

“Did we not plan to meet here for as little hassle as possible? We could have just met at my place if your date fell through.”

“It didn’t fall through.” Your brow scrunched, not able to get an immediate reply from Heather as the waiter came over to take your orders. You opting for a quinoa power bowl while she went with the mushroom and asparagus omelet.

“Did you change hotels?” Heather asked as the waiter left the table.

“No.” You shook your head, “we were at her place.”

“Oh?” She asked with slightly wide eyes and you laughed.

“Emily’s sick of not sleeping in her own bed. And to be completely honest I was getting bored of hotel life too.” You glanced up to catch the look on her face and you rolled your eyes, “Heather, this isn’t like one of us is some money hungry twenty something who’s going to go psychotic when the other one won’t leave her husband for her. Not everything mimics your life experiences.”

“So you’re not getting all domesticated on me?” She asked with a smirk, “because I need that wild, spitfire woman for work.”

“No.” You nearly grimaced, “we’re still going out for fancy dinners and shit, the sex is just occurring in a different environment and with a plethora of more toys.”

“Mmm.” She replied over a sip of her bloody mary, “so whose place were you at last night?”

“Hers.”

“You stay over?”

“Yes.”

“Careful.” She chided.

“What?” You asked her, your nose scrunching in confusion and she simply chuckled.

“Never mind.” She took another sip of her coffee, “you know… I saw Jackie the other day.”

“Not a surprise considering your line of work.” You replied, hoping the sudden heat on your cheeks wasn’t as present as it felt. “How is she?”

“Had one hell of a hickey on her neck… said she finally got around to having some good fun a couple of weeks ago.”

“Good for her.” You bluffed.

“Huh.” Heather clicked her tongue.

“What?” You huffed, wanting to move onto the next subject.

“Were you too drunk or too horny to realize that it was my main driver who picked you up from the club?” She smirked over the rim of her glass, “and to think you didn’t even bother to call me.”

“Heather it was nearly five in the morning.” You replied dryly, “besides, you always have to be in control of everything, you get power hungry in group situations, dynamic never would have worked.”

“Oh…” there was a devilish grin on her lips as she leant back in her chair, “so tell me then… did they gang up on you or was poor Jackie your little play toy?”

“Please.” You laughed, your voice quieting, “you know that’s what she prefers.”

“Tell me more.” With a smirk, she leant in, her elbow on the table, chin propped up in her hand.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, eyeing her up, “but I guess now would be the time to point out that hickey on your neck…”

“What?” Heather’s hand shot to her neck, gently prodding at the skin until she found the sensitive spot, “fucking brat. I told her no marks!”

“And that’s why you’ve got to make better choices.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair, “I’m careful to not leave marks.”

“That’s because you don’t bite hard enough.” She nearly scowled, digging into her purse to pull out a compact and do the best coverage job she could in the meantime.

You were left laughing, the topic finally diminishing as food was swiftly delivered. Heather, having had enough of being prodded and teased slid the compact back into her purse and picked up her fork.

“How are we doing for next week’s assembly?”

“I’ve got Harris, Tart and Durant set up for speakers, Ashley’s been finishing shirts, banners, badges and stickers and Colton’s been going door to door every day this week.”

“Good.” She took a bite of food, “where are we with backing from Underwood?”

“Working on it. He’s been out of State so often it’s been hard enough to track him or Claire down even for a phone call. I’ll get there soon, I promise.”

“Good girl.”

**

While your dates continued around the city, it almost felt like you had more freedom when you weren’t trying to stay in or near a specific hotel. Dinner or drinks could be closer to your place or Emily’s, wandering the waterfront on the way back to her apartment. While things were a little more comfortable, there were still some unspoken rules that the two of you simply continued to follow.

Emily always made sure the payment was sent to you within an hour of a date ending, whether that be midnight or eight in the morning the next day. You kept your dates limited to weekends, both to keep things on a running schedule and to try and avoid crossing over with work. Staying the night wasn’t required, it never had been in the hotels, especially if one of you knew you had a busy week and wanted a day to prepare for it or decompress from the weekend. There was nothing in the contract about cuddles and sweet dreams, it was about sex, enough aftercare that everyone was alright and money. There were nights you were too wiped to move, falling asleep before Emily could even fully check in with you and there were other nights that once you’d caught your breath, you were dressed and out the door. Emily would admit she did enjoy spending the nights in your bed, but she still missed her own just as much and if she was willing to drive at the late hour, she was pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek and heading home to it.

Some mornings you’d wake up tangled in each other’s limbs and take the time for some lazy morning sex, which usually ended up leading straight into round two, three or more as you fully woke up. Other mornings you would wake up to the sound of the shower, Emily prodding your side what felt like seconds later with a to go coffee cup and you were on your way home straight away.

Coffee was where it ended, there was never breakfast, never brunch or dilly dallying as you talked about your plans for the rest of the weekend. It was a quick shower, a coffee in a cardboard cup and an ‘I’ll call you’ to set up your next date. While you had dinner or drinks most nights, they were had out, it was never homecooked, no dancing around each other in the kitchen while you put together a meal. Bottles of wine were often left forgotten on the coffee table as Emily made a home between your legs, bringing you to your peak over and over again until you were tugging her off you to return the favour.

Emily’s apartment was normally your setting, her toy collection happened to be more extensive than yours and it seemed like there was always something new to discover and play with. It also helped her keep a semblance of control in her mind, you may have been playing this game for months now, but she was still wrapping her brain around exactly how things worked. She was still new to it, learning the ropes as she went and she wanted to make sure she was doing her best. When she was in her own apartment, it was her surroundings, she knew every nook and cranny and felt more relaxed and able to take control.

The lines were still in place, even if there was a change of scenery.

**

Emily heard an all to familiar beeping interrupting her dreams and she rolled onto her side, scrunching her eyes briefly in an attempt to keep them shut and regain whatever sleep she still had left in her. You coffee always auto brewed and most mornings the two of you ignored it if you wanted to sleep in or have a morning session before parting ways. A chill ran through the room and she let out a small shiver, shifting to pull the covers tighter around herself and was surprised at just how easily she suddenly had the entire duvet in her hands.

Begrudgingly cracking her eyes open she looked around the room, it was still dark, sunrise being later and later as the city sunk fully into autumn. Rolling onto her back she was able to assess that you definitely weren’t in bed with her, the bathroom light was off but the fan was on, a likely sign you’d had a shower and started your day already. The second sign being that your pyjamas were strewn over one of the chairs across from the bed, your phone absent from the nightstand.

She knew that you were likely letting her sleep until you absolutely had to kick her out, but the exhausted part of her was really hoping maybe this was a quick thing and you’d come back to bed. She perked up when a light at the bottom of the stairs flicked on, her ears picking up the sound of your voice. Either someone was over or you were on the phone, but either way you sounded far less than pleased.

Letting out a soft sigh she pushed up to sitting, stretching out her body and rubbing at her eyes as she willed herself out of bed and into the cool morning air. She tiptoed quietly over to the door, if you did have a house guest this early, you likely didn’t need them knowing that you’d had overnight company. After listening for a couple of minutes she determined that you were definitely on the phone, there was barely any time for someone else to get a word in and whenever they did, downstairs was silent aside from the pacing of your heels or sound of coffee brewing. Emily crossed the room again, quickly getting redressed and collecting her things, quietly making her way down the staircase to the main floor, finding you with your back to her.

“Patterson I swear to god if you hang up on me— Yes! I already know that. He doesn’t need a parent or guardian if he’s of age. Did he ask you to call her? No. Exactly—What did I just say? Like hell you need to print him! You’re not just toeing the line you’re by far crossing it! Don’t think I know you just want him booked to get your name all over the press, I’ll have your fucking badge.” A slight pause while you pinched at the bridge of your nose, a voice chattering on the other side of the line, “no. Of course I don’t think you’re just going to toss him back out onto the street. Mr. Dalton is already on his way down there to make sure you don’t think about breaking any other rules or laws and believe me I’ll be making a trip down there myself to talk to your Captain.” Hanging up the phone you dropped it to the island, stopping to take a hefty swig of coffee, “fuck.”

You finally turned back to the island, dropping onto a stool and pulling your laptop toward you, movement out of the corner of your eye causing you to glance up, jolting slightly as you realized Emily was on the same floor as you.

“Shit, sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it.” She replied, smiling softly as she stepped into the room. You made a noise, gesturing toward the empty to go coffee mug beside the coffee pot and she took the hint, mixing it to her liking. “Anything I can help with?”

You nearly snorted, glancing up to her, “morally, ethically and legally? No.”

“Oh…kay…” She took a sip of the coffee to make sure it was right before popping the lid on and you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Jordan got picked up for a drunk and disorderly last night.”

“Jordan?”

“Heather’s son.” You grimaced.

“Ah.” She nodded, suddenly more than well aware the severity of the situation, “DUI?”

“Luckily he didn’t get that far. But this fucking prick Patterson… fucking white shield who thinks he’s hot shit…” you grumbled, “he pays paparazzi to follow around teenage and older kids of politicians, especially at bars or parties. Tips them off to whenever he knows security is escorting them, they get the pictures, he gets to swoop in and make a couple of bullshit arrests, they split the bank. He thinks its gonna be his way up the chain.”

“Sounds like a piece of shit.”

“He is.” You mumbled, “and now I get to spend the rest of the weekend putting out fires and trying to keep this out of the press and away from Heather. Lord knows she’ll only lose her shit and knowing Jordan he’ll turn something flammable into an explosion. I—” you were cut off by your phone ringing and you immediately picked it up, “Yeah? I don’t care that it’s only five in the morning, the car is coming to the back entrance and you are to get Jordan into it without a single soul seeing him. Drive him back home, make sure he’s in the guest house, I’ll call Rob.”

Emily picked up her coffee cup, tapping on the island to gather your brief attention, giving you a little wave thank you for the coffee and to let you know she was saying goodbye. All things considered the best option for her right now was to get out of your hair.

**

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Getting an early or overnight call for a case on a Saturday morning was already annoying as is, but this was linked to one of the cases they had been working on that week. Meaning the call was Penelope saying she’d found an out of state connection and everyone was to be at the jet in thirty. While Emily’s go bag was in the car, it only had enough outfits for a few days and the one she’d worn the night previous certainly wasn’t Section Chief appropriate.

“Take whatever you need.” You sleepily waved in the direction of your closet, flicking on the bedside lamp before rolling over and going back to sleep as she began to rummage through your clothes.

Emily made it to the jet just in the nick of time, dropping her bag and managing to grab a coffee and bottle of water before settling into an empty seat across from Tara. She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her, examining the outfit choice and she shifted in her seat, the shirt was definitely a little snug around her chest but it was the best option she could find quickly.

“That’s a nice colour.” Tara complimented, “looks really good on you.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

“It new?”

“No,” she let out a semi awkward laugh, scrambling to come up with some kind of fib, “kind of old, figured I’d start cleaning out my closet last night, grabbed the first thing I could.” She shuffled in her seat again, tugging the fabric away from her chest before leaning forward to grab a case file, “what’d Garcia find? Do we know what we’re walking into?”

“Second page.” Tara replied, the corner of her lips curving up into a smirk and Emily could feel her cheeks burning pink, feeling like she was back in high school hiding a secret from her mother.

**

You sped through the doorway to Heather’s office, placing a now lukewarm coffee down on her desk as the check in that you were there before briskly turning around and she barely looked up from her laptop.

“Sorry, traffic on the I-395 was a fucking mess. I’ve never seen so many accidents this early in the morning.”

“It’s getting icy out there.” She replied, her eyes still on the screen in front of her, “turned the heater on in your office, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” You replied with a huff, barely making it to the doorway before the wheels started turning in Heather’s brain and she eyes shot up.

“Hold up!” She called and you froze on the spot, turning back to face her, “you live uptown…”

“Yup…” you nodded, feeling the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“And if you were coming from the Waldorf you would have taken Pennsylvania.”

“Yes again.” You nodded, nearly gulping. Heather surveyed you for a moment, her eyes narrowing as her lips twitched up into a grin.

“It’s Thursday…”

“You ever heard of wine Wednesday Heather? Zooz has an incredible happy hour and it’s walking distance from Em’s.”

“Hmm.” Her head titled, “must be a nice place.”

“I have work to do.” You began to turn away again, but she called out once more.

“Speaking of, pick a hotel for Sarasota this morning and Elise will book it.”

“I thought we were going to Laguna?”

“They changed locations, something about the right hall not being available.” She shrugged, “at least Florida’s an excuse for a shopping trip.”

“Huh…” your head titled as a grin broke out on your lips, “I could use a new swimsuit.”

“Could always go without one.” She smirked back and you rolled your eyes.

“Very professional.”

“We’ll have a private terrace.” She replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And here I thought I was picking the hotel.”

“You’ll pick something suitable; cost isn’t a concern.” She shrugged, “I’m not going to be slumming it in Florida for a week and not indulge.” Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “hell, why don’t you call Tony, take the afternoon to get some shopping done.”

“He’d love that.” You laughed as you thought it over.

“I’m sure he’s not the only one.” She replied, tilting the screen of her laptop back as her eyes fell back down to it once again, a smirk remaining on her lips.

**

Girl’s night at Garcia’s always meant a couple of cocktails and when Tara had offered to drive, having to be up early the next morning, everyone was on board. JJ was the first drop off, leaving Emily in the front seat with Tara navigating the streets of Washington.

“What is going on with you?” Tara asked, a small laugh leaving her lips as she glanced over at the other woman.

“What?”

“Your nerves are radiating off you and you keep shifting in your seat like a dog that hasn’t figured out if he’s going to the park or the vet.”

She laughed, “it’s nothing. I just went from not really recognizing the street to realizing I’ve got a friend who lives around here.”

Tara glanced at her watch, “it’s not that late, if you wanna make a pit stop or for me to drop you somewhere, I can do that.”

“No, no don’t worry about it.”

“Emily,” she prodded, “c’mon. I can keep a secret.”

“It’s nothing like that!” She swatted at her hand, “just haven’t seen her in a bit.”

“Call her or I’m pulling over the car.”

“I—what?” Her eyes darted up to the other woman who suddenly pulled into the right lane, “okay, okay!”

Your phone began to buzz on your desktop and you let out a soft sigh, thankful for the interruption as you pulled off your glasses, blinking your eyes a few times as you picked it up.

“Walton.”

“Hey, it’s Emily.”

“Oh, hey!” A smile crept onto your face, “what’s up?”

“I.. uh.. I was just in the neighbourhood, figured I’d see if you wanted to grab a drink?”

This sigh you let out this time was much wearier one that Emily could practically feel, “I would absolutely love to but I’m still at the office and likely will be for a few more ours.”

“On a Saturday?”

“Yup.” You exaggerated the word, popping the ‘p’, “bunch of extra tasks on hand this week and we’ve been spread pretty thin. I definitely can’t go anywhere until the boss does.”

“Shit.” She muttered and you reached across your desk for your agenda, flipping through a couple of pages.

“Looks like I can squeeze you in on Tuesday? Probably not ‘til ten at the earliest and I wouldn’t be able to stay.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, the usual weekend is fine.”

“Weekend is all conference prep and we fly out Monday afternoon.”

“I would hate to add to your schedule, we can wait until you’re back.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed softly, “lord knows I could use the relief.”

“Alright.” She chuckled, “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“I’ll call once I’m finished up, let you know when I’m on my way.”

“Sounds good. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Emily dropped her phone with a soft sigh, sliding it back into her pocket, a sense of relief washing over her when Tara pulled back into the left lane and signalled to make the turn towards her original destination.

“I thought you hadn’t seen her in a while?”

“Huh?” Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked up at her.

“’The usual weekend is fine’?” Tara raised an eyebrow, “who have you been meeting up with every week?”

“No one.” She fibbed, sinking deeper into the seat of the car.

“Oh come on Emily.” She laughed, “doesn’t take much to realize you’ve been spending time doing something other than work. You actually don’t reply to non urgent work texts on the weekends anymore, better moods Monday mornings…”

“No profiling the profiler!” Emily protested, punching Tara’s arm, “I thought I was getting a nice ride home, not an interrogation.”

“Okay, okay.”

Tara held up a hand in surrender, shaking her head at the other woman as she pulled up in front of Emily’s building. She said a quick thank you and goodnight, pulling out her phone when she was waiting for the elevator. If you were working this late on the weekend the least she could do was send over some dessert as a pick me up.

__________________

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[starlightvld]

Easy tagging, reblog/queue-ing, and more

Lately, I've seen some posts complaining about easily fixable issues on Tumblr, so I thought I'd pass on knowledge that used to be common but seems to have been lost along the way.

Xkit is your friend. Specifically, XKit Rewritten, the browser extension.

Download it to your browser, and you can get rid of ads, turn on the mutual checker, timestamps, quick reblog, and quick tags ... and that's just for a start. If you're not familiar with extensions, just go "Add-ons and themes" in the Firefox menu and search in the top bar for "Xkit Rewritten." (And yes, it's in Chrome, too.)

Quick Reblogs & Quick Tags - a match made in internet heaven

Quick Reblogs and Quick Tags work in tandem to give you the easiest set up for reblogging/queueing posts with appropriate tags. It requires setting up "tag bundles" at the beginning, but it's a simple thing. Just give the bundle a title and then list whatever tags you want under the title, separated by commas. Click "Add Bundle" when you're done.

You can make as many bundles as you want.

This pairs nicely with Quick Reblog in that you can add these bundles from the box that appears when you hover over the reblog button on ANY post. Just click the tag bundle(s) you want to apply, add any additional/specific tags if you want (or you can also just write your own tags into the "Tags" section without using a bundle at all) and then click "reblog" or "queue" for a one click solution without ever leaving your dashboard.

You can combine bundles, too. So if you're an artist/writer, you could make a generic bundle for your general art or writing tags, then make specific ship/fandom bundles and combine them based on what you're posting. I tend to pick a ship and stick with it for years, so I don't really need that, but for all you extra-awesome multi-fandom people, this can be a huge time saver.

There are a ton of other options with XKit, too, but these are the ones I find most useful. I hope this helps people feel more confident using the site and also tagging posts!

[your-nanas-house]

Experimenting with your husband

◇ Pairing: Robert Fischer X wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, marriage, spanking with queue book, brief cock sucking and cum swallowing, awkwardness, role-play gone wrong.

◇ Summary: You want to try something new with your husband.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is inspired by this post of @tommyshelby87

Thoughts of regret started to fill your head as your husband watched you with a poker face.

He had returned from a stressful day of work and had been complaining about it non-stop, walking around the huge house while getting into his home clothes made of smooth silk and his rich soft slippers that matched yours.

As your husband kept rambling you kept pondering about your own things and the increasing need to try out the new found kink and how to approach the topic.

Which brings you to where you were at that moment... sat at the dining table with the food in front of you and Robert frozen in place. 

It wasn't one of your best ideas to approach such a topic while eating casually spaghetti with tomato sauce. You could have started it in any other way and you were aware of it, mentally slapping you the past 2 minutes as your man didn't seem to react at all to what you said, remaining still and confused or maybe shocked, disgusted... you didn't know because he didn't move a single muscle.

"Robert... I.. we don't have to do it. I didn't think it was a big deal since it's not the first time you spank me— please say something. You don't have to spank me with your cheque book if you don't want to, love" you began to ramble, apologizing and trying to reassure him while continuing to mention your desire, making him become pinker and pinker unconsciously.

"Y/n...Y/n!" Robert raised slightly his voice to make you stop, his glass of wine brushing against his lips just waiting to be drank 

"I never said no... we— w-we can try, I mean.. who am I to deny my wife, hm?" He continued before gulping down the dark red liquid in one go. 

The rich man could already feel the familiar tingle that usually was followed by the rush of his blood straight to his cock. 

The experience was new for sure, he tended usually to make love to his wife not just fucks, quickies where present in their intimate life but still— he never fucked his wife like a cheap whore or treating her as inferior. 

"Ok... so we?.... Bedroom?" His voice nearly cracked as he tried awkwardly to communicate with you who were watching him, a bit nervous. 

It seemed like it was your first time, awkwardly talking, eager but shy smiles plus awkward the rush to the bedroom while dumping slightly against each other and the embarrassing apologies.

"We keep our safe word" Robert informed you as he searched the specific object you requested for the spanks of that night in his work coat, his hands shaking slightly as his eyes never left your nervous but excited form

"Okay, love?" He asked in search of reassurance before trying to fit in his new role. 

As soon as you nodded, confirming that you would use your usual word if you wanted him to stop, the businessman cleared his throat before speaking again using a bit raspier tone than usual

"Good girl... undress" he demanded, watching you while elegantly fixing his robes so as to take place on the bed easily and enjoy the small show

"You can keep on my favorite" his slender finger played a bit with the hem of the lacy black thong you were wearing, tracing slowly the form down to the wet spot between your legs and stopping there for a couple of seconds just feeling.

Your body was shivering as you let him check you as if you were meat or… a gemstone, his gentle finger tips traveled around your skin again till they stopped on your lower stomach.

A loud click of his tongue echoed softly in the room, interrupting your heavy breathing and signaling the start of your new experience.

"Lay down on my lap, sweetheart" Robert ordered, patting his thighs which were covered by the smooth fabric of his silk pants. 

The material felt amazing against your bare warm skin, it just rubbed softly against it every time you moved slightly to adjust in a comfortable position, ready to receive anything your husband would give you.

"You're surprisingly very pretty for a cheap whore, darling" The man hummed, getting in the part as best he could as his eyes never left his hand which were busy kneading your round ass cheeks

"Tell me what you want again" his tone lowered as he brushed his lips against your ear when you tilts your head slightly up to look at him

"I-I want you to keep me bend over your lap.. take your queue book and spank my ass with it... sir" you whispered, gulping slightly since you still needed to adjust at the kind of roleplay they were creating and you could tell by the rosy cheeks of your husband that he needed some minutes too

"Good girl, you've been a very good girl. I might actually reward you with what you desire... dirty slut" he gulped out the name testing the water before falling in an awkward silence just like you.

The embarrassing situation was starting to become a bit of a turn off for the both of you, so you needed to take the lead and guide your man into something less uncomfortable so as to satisfy yourselves.

"Baby, this isn't working so well, maybe... without the role-play and the mean names. Just be yourself, yes?" At your words Robert nodded quickly, relieved and ready to start again in a less embarrassing way

"Someone told me you've been bit lazy today, wife" the man informed you with a teasing tone before continuing, his fingertips traveling again on your skin, drawing imaginary lazy patterns on it

"Very lazy actually... need your husband to pay you to do some home chores, now?... or maybe you just need a little punishment, hm? What you say, love? Do you agree with your man? What is it that you need?" Hearing his teasing and scolding tone you just nodded along, your breath hitched at the mere thought of what was about to come and you could already feel your wetness on your own thighs.

It took Robert little time to go for the first spank, trying at first to be sure that you were still comfortable... then he hit another time, bit harder, still testing, the rich paper collided with your skin... again and again. 

It wasn't uncomfortable per sé, quite enjoyable especially because your husband was the usual caring one and made sure not to cut or hurt you too much with the book while still using enough force to satisfy your need. 

His ego drank from your moans and his cock started to twitch in his pants, pressing more and more against your stomach as you wiggles slightly and hissed on his lap at the stinging sensation each time the paper hit your now red-ish ass.

He felt quite pathetic to be that worked up for something like that, he hadn’t even reached the twentys spanks and he was already about to cum like a damn teeneager

"Love, sorry— fuck, I can't anymore. I don't wanna cum in my pajamas, can you suck it, please?" Robert begged you with a soft whine, breaking completely his cocky facade as he got closer and closer to release pathetically and messily

"Please, love.. please— fuck" he cursed and begged more, sighing in relief just when you smiles amused and shifted in a kneeled position between his legs, your mouth wrapped around his angry red tip as your tongue worked him and your hand took care of your needy pussy as well.

You were a bit surprised though, expecting you to enjoy it more than him... but you were wrong given the rock-hard length that was down your throat shooting thick warm cum. 

You sure had him riled up pretty bad.

[argisthebulwark]

Pretty Please?

summary: Asking them to let you tie a bow around their bicep💕 gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Farkas, Vilkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Mercer warnings: some swearing, unserious threats (Mercer) masterlist

"Oh hell yeah." Farkas isn't ashamed to admit that he flexes just a little when you wrap the cute ribbon around his bicep. He loves the excited gleam in your eye and the shameless way your hands linger on his muscles even when the task is complete. "Now what?" He laughs, enjoying the satisfied smile on your face. "You keep it there." "For how long?" "Until it falls off, I guess." You shrug, allowing his arms to wrap around you. Farkas can't help himself from drawing closer to you, there's something magnetic about being in your presence. Any silly little joke is worth seeing you smile. "What if it breaks?" "How would it break?" Oh, you've played right into his game. Farkas flexes his triceps, feeling the flimsy ribbon strain and snap around his muscles. He adores the pout you force to cover up the clear amusement when you pluck the pink fabric from his arm. "You just wanted to show off." "C'mon, tie another one. I promise to leave it all day." Of course he's true to his word. Farkas double checks your knot on the second bow, strangely invested in this one staying as long as possible. He's thrilled to talk to the new recruits about his lovely partner who'd placed it there, fingers brushing the soft fabric sentimentally each time he thinks of you.

Vilkas grumbles something under his breath, eyes never straying from his book. Behind the locks of dark hair you spot his expression, noting the lack of real annoyance. Fighting back a grin you play along with his obligatory protests. "It's just a cute little bow." "What purpose does it serve?" "I can ask someone else." You sigh theatrically, turning on your heel. Right on queue Vilkas huffs, a strong hand closing around your wrist and tugging you closer. "Just put it on." He growls just as you'd expected. He thinks he's so scary, but Vilkas sits eerily still and allows you to tie a pretty pink ribbon around his bicep. Despite his protests it remains there all day. One sharp glare shuts down the giggling from a group of whelps resting in the main hall, though the older Companions are harder to quiet. Farkas nearly combusts when Vilkas breezes past him without saying a word, his gleeful expression matched only by yours. After a few boring meetings you scurry down to the marketplace in search of your partner, thrilled at the sight of him pawing through bits of armor while merchants and civilians stare pointedly at your ribbon. It had started as a funny suggestion but seeing him now makes your heart melt. Fully aware that you're killing his tough persona, you skip closer until Vilkas' large hand instinctively reaches for you. He continues haggling with the merchant, seemingly unaware of the pink ribbon flapping in the gentle afternoon breeze. "You doin' this for all the lads?" Brynjolf smirks, holding his arm out to you. "Why?" You hum, so carefully tying a perfect bow over his muscled arm. He isn't sure why you've chosen to add a pink ribbon to his armor but for you he'd do anything. "Would that make you jealous?" "Oh, desperately." He deadpans, enveloping you in his arms. Brynjolf relaxes when you brush through his hair, grateful for the distraction from the endless stacks of paperwork towering on his desk. "Just you, Bryn." You assure him, adjusting the bow until it's perfect. "Thank the gods for that - but did ya have to choose such a bright color, love?" "Some of the recruits have been eyeing you a bit too much for my liking." You admit, sinking deeper into his touch. "Had to stake my claim." "I live and breathe for you, love." From a man who's spent decades lying and stealing, those are the truest words he's ever spoken. Brynjolf loves the excited way you fuss at his bow, ensuring it will stay in place. "What if I get called on a job? This frilly pink'll surely get me caught." "Good thing you're the best there is." "Aye, love. Got that right."

"Absolutely not." Miraak lies, resolve already cracking. He can never say to no to you for long. "Why not?" "Why should I allow this?" "I think you'll look cute." He groans at your words, fully aware that he can not resist that sweet tone of your voice. Dropping whatever tome he'd been reading for far too long he allows you to crawl into his lap. It's painfully difficult to not just give in to you. Miraak knows that his intimidating persona is all but shattered in your presence but that does not stop him from grasping at its last remaining shreds when he can. "I have slain thousands. I could end you with a word. I am not cute." "Fine." You huff, still clutching the frilly piece of ribbon. "You're pretty, is that better?" "It is not." He grumbles, putting up no fight when your fingers dance up his arm. "Would this please you?" "Greatly." His heart swells at that smile, the one you've only shown him. To the rest of Tamriel you are a being of myth, the Last Dragonborn, the only one who holds the world's fate in the palm of your hands. You could save or condemn continents with a word. Yet here you sit, face cupped in Miraak's gloved hands and pouting over a cute pink ribbon. He sighs, unable to maintain the act any longer. "As you wish, my Dragon."

"Try it and I'll gut you." Mercer grunts, content to ignore your request - until he sees the disappointment shimmering in your eyes. That excited smile fades and your hands fall to your sides and oh, the guilt kicks his ass. He turns behind the desk, disgusted by how badly be wants to please you. Wordlessly, he raises his left arm. He glares down at the list of recently recovered oddities without absorbing any information when you happily bounce closer, touch featherlight as you tie the scrap of fabric around his arm. "You markin' me for some sort of hit?" He snarks, attempting to distance himself from the sheer pleasure of you leaning so close to him. "There's easier ways to kill you, honey." Your voice is light, unaffected by his refusal. "I'm goin' away on a job for a while, I just figured you'd think of me when you saw this." Mercer grunts noncommittally once more, swallowing the words threatening to escape - you think he requires a silly bow to think of you? Every moment you're away from the Cistern he's worrying over your safety, counting the hours the job should take until his chest is tight. He doesn't mention it again, though after your departure he catches a few other thieves snickering behind their hands. He strides through the Flagon without looking at them, summoning the most cutting voice he can before speaking. "Say another word and you won't live to see sunrise."

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!! (Edit : part 2 posted!)

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[73ghosts]

I'm sure many of you are already aware of this, but in case I have any newer tumblr users, pet bill donation scams are very common on this site. If someone DMs or sends you an ask asking you to reblog some sort of donation post for a sick/injured pet, it is most likely a scam.

Below the cut, I have included tips to spotting a scam, and why I believe the post by 507-on-queue is a scam. @kyra45 runs an excellent tumblr scam awareness blog, and has more information and tips here about spotting pet scams. I have archived the scam post in question on my side blog here.

Here's some ways to spot these scams:

Age of the blog - most scam blogs are a week old or younger, they are often under a day old

Similar urls being used for multiple blogs - scam blogs are typically blocked/deleted rapidly, and the OP makes a new account with almost the same name

The blog bio/pfp are not unique

You can only access the dashboard view of the blog so the post archive cannot be accessed (for example, my dashboard view is this, but you can also visit my webpage view and see my 9 years of post history via /archive lol)

The blog has never interacted with you before

The blog follows you and immediately sends a DM/ask

The DM/ask is overly polite and guilt trips (they often ask you to reply privately to reduce digital footprint)

Images of pets can be found via reverse image search

OP's story is inconsistent or unrealistic

The Paypal link does not match the supposed country OP lives in

Most recently, a scam post has been going around about a sphynx cat named Draven. This has been done using multiple urls, including:

meer-lion (deactivated)

507-on-queue (deactivated)

507onqueue (deactivated)

507-onqueue (current as of Jan 13th, 2024)

Here's how this blog meets our scam watch criteria:

The current blog (507-onqueue) is less than a day old (19 hours at the time of this post). The oldest post:

As listed above, OP uses multiple, similar URLs.

The bio of 507-onqueue is taken almost directly from another user (said user). Due to the same bio being used in previous scams, I suspect this is the same or related person to kappa-tundra/kappatundra (about this scam).

Scam blog:

Copied blog:

Only dashboard view is available.

The blog follows and immediately DMs/sends and ask. From my account:

The ask from the account is very polite, guilt trips, and asks me to answer to the post privately. The goal of being so polite is to win your trust and lower your defenses. This isn't the worst guilt trip I've been in a scam (that goes to the child support scam from several years ago). By asking me to reply privately, they're attempting to reduce their digital footprint (making them harder to google) and disguise how much they are spamming asks.

The information in that post was taken from a private Facebook account (source). I found the Facebook account in question and confirmed that the information was taken from there. I do not want to share the page because I view that as a further violation of the Facebook OP's privacy. For transparency, the images of Draven are not on Facebook OP's page any longer, but there are several other identifiable pieces of information that make it more than likely that the claims of her information being stolen are true.

The ask is inconsistent itself with the name of the cat (Draven vs Indie). This is also nearly identical to another scam ask from user captbridges. This user was using a real GoFundMe for a sick cat to scam.

The medical paperwork in OP's post is for a veterinary hospital in Wisconsin. However, OP's PayPal is based in the Philippines. The country.x= part of the url indicate the country of origin of the account; PH is the Philippines. The local.x= part of the url shows that the link was localized to the United States (making the donation currency USD). (PayPal's information page about country codes).

Stay safe out there and remain vigilant, everyone. If you don't already know them, try to pick up some boolean operators to refine your google searches when checking for scams. The tumblr search function sucks, so this is your best bet of finding information about scams like these online.