Tumgik
#green address bar
emilybeemartin · 7 months
Text
Just to tie in my two themes this month----
Additional notes, because poll options apparently limit their characters:
Frodo finds great peace in watching the tides rise and fall throughout each day. He attends all the ranger programs on birds and seashells and fills pages with sketches and poetry.
Sam meticulously selects postcards in the gift shop for each of his friends and spends a whole morning writing and addressing them. He also buys Junior Ranger hats for his kids and a variety of Appalachian jams for Rosie.
Park rangers launch a Missing Person search for Aragorn when they realize his car's been parked at Avalanche Creek for three days. The search runs for almost a week before he comes strolling out the opposite side of the park, supporting one of the SAR techs who twisted an ankle during the search.
Legolas is first drawn to Olympic for the towering, mossy temperate rainforests, but the ground goes out from under him when he steps onto Second Beach for the first time. He spends an entire day watching the light and tides shift on the sea stacks, and he leaves feeling both full and hollow, like a bell that's just been rung.
Mammoth is only Gimli's first stop on a cavern tour, followed by Jewel and Wind Caves and Carlsbad Caverns. Wind Cave is his favorite for the unusual formations. He makes an obnoxious tween boy cry in Carlsbad for breaking off a speleothem.
Boromir is on a tour of military parks. He asks so many questions to the intern working the info station at Fort Sumter the kid has to go find the park historian. His favorite site is Vicksburg because that place was buckwild, though he silently judges one of the reenactors for his clumsy handling of a black powder rifle.
Merry also makes stops in Jurassic and Dinosaur National Monuments. He watches every park video, takes selfies in front of all the fossil exhibits, and earns his Junior Ranger badge at each one. He buys a keychain for Pippin.
Pippin actually gets four citations, mostly for trying to stick his hands in mud pots. He doesn't mean anything by it---he's just so delighted and curious about the bizarre landscape. He winds up with several thermal burns and dumps a king's ransom in the donation box on his last day.
Gandalf gets dinged by rangers for not paying the $5 fee for Trunk Bay, but he acts senile until they eventually decide to drop it. He gets postcards from everyone and responds to none of them.
Faramir and Eowyn are traveling together and do many of the same hikes and rides, but they do have some different preferences off-trail. Eowyn drags Faramir to a rodeo and the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, and he goads her into Ranger Shelton Johnson's living history programs on the Buffalo Soldiers in Yosemite.
Eomer is bike-packing on his sport cruiser motorcycle. He goes to Roosevelt south unit for the wild horse herds but ends up spending half a day watching a prairie dog town. He takes 400 photos of them, mostly blurry, and texts them to Eowyn.
1K notes · View notes
dmitriene · 30 days
Text
Tumblr media
cw: mentions of groping and attempts at harassment, reader stays her ground, simon falls in love and kind of a horny mutt, smut is not the main curse.
simon keeps his distance from relationships, he has enough problems of his own, he rarely stays in one place because of deployments, and very often risks his life.
until simon observes a situation in a bar that turns his world upside down, making him feel a prickly warmth in his lower stomach and a whirlwind of thoughts consisting only of the same words
— “she's gonna be mine„
it was so easy, you only had to go to the bar for the first time in a long time to unwind, only to get caught by an annoying, nasty guy who didn't want to stop trying to touch you and whisper nasty compliments to you like — “your tits looks so good in this shirt„ “wanna get out of here with me?„ “don't play hard to get„
until it all turned into screams and pig squeals, as soon as you poured the drink from your hands on his gross self, ruining not only his clothes, leaving them sticky, but also his image, attracting the attention of almost all the customers and also the bartender, a clever one who immediately called for help to get the man out before he did anything worse, not to mention his squeals about — “fucking bitch! that how you react to some attention?!„
it's really easy, responding with rudeness to rudeness and not tolerating humiliation just for the sake of saving face, not even yours, in public, instead keeping your nerve and addressing rude people in their own language, before wiping your hands with a napkin and going back to relaxing by ordering another drink.
and simon is not at all ashamed to admit to himself that the whole performance, carefully followed by his thawed chocolate eyes, not only made him aroused, which caused him to fidget in the seat, spreading his legs wider and squeezing the prominent bulge in his pants, tenting against the fabric of the black jeans —
but also allowed him to imagine how it would have been in different circumstances, yelling at him about completely different things — while being on top of him, riding his fat cock with rough rolls of your round hips and loud slaps of your plush ass against his relaxed, muscular thighs, the warm, gummy walls of your cunny clench around his meaty cock so good, making him go delirious with just one imagination how hot you would sound with his name and orders slipping past your soft, bitten from his hungry mouth, lips — “h — haa, yesyesyes, simon! stay just like that, s' good!„
it's all enough to make simon break out of his habitual image in which he tries to keep a low profile, he calls the waiter to ask him to extend your drink at his expense, and it's really more than enough for simon, because you don't hesitate to find his gaze among the numerous tables when you're told that another cocktail you didn't ask for is a compliment from another customer, and simon doesn't hide his communion either.
he catches your gaze back, feeling a thrilling shiver in his body, and raises his glass of bourbon to the thin line of pale lips that spread into a smile of their own, accord when he sees your biased squint, but even though his slightly intimidating balaclava and broad physique, you nod, thankfully, your lips moving in silent gratitude — “thank's, sir„
that was his green flag, to sit in the bar until you were about to leave, leaving the room and his line of sight, slipping out if only for a moment, because simon couldn't let you go home alone after all that, coming out after you and as gently as possible touching your shoulder to make you turn, your gaze falling onto his warm eyes before processing the hoarse words he said
— “le' me wolk you home, hm? nothing more, jus' a safe wolk, lovie?„
and will you refuse? after all, no matter how hard you try to think otherwise, something in his whole form inspires of unexpected safety, so maybe he's the one who will be your normal company tonight.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
439 notes · View notes
wrongplacerighttime · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
ex-boyfriend!harry x you
just a lil somethin somethin. wrote this super quick and didn’t proof read it so !!!! basically just smut with a lil bit of a plot, didn’t go into too much detail w the plot. just was in a….mood if you know what i mean HAHAHA.
wc: 2.8k
tw: ex-boyfriend!harry, smut 18+, squirting if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v. use protection kids!!!
bad idea, right?
Tumblr media
The bass through the speaker in the bar turns to muffled bumps as you look down at your phone and see a text from your former boyfriend, blood draining from your face, from your brain and you can't form a coherent thought. Just his name that you never deleted from your contact list. It had been six months since the tumultuous end that you never wanted to think about. You stared at it for so long that the letters of his name blurred together. 
Harry. 
Yes with just a period, because you had removed the emoji you reserved just for him, a giraffe from some inside joke the two of you shared. You had wondered then if he kept the teddy bear by yours or if he removed it like you had, erasing that part of your relationship from his memory. 
You remind yourself not to think of it that way. It was over. Six months ago, when he came home and said he just didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore with no explanation. He packed and left the same night. You didn’t stop him…how could you have, when he was so hellbent on leaving? You just wanted him to be happy, if he decided it wasn’t with you, you had to learn to be okay with that.
Your finger hovers over the message, wanting nothing more than to open it and see if he finally decided to give you the clarification you were desperate for. You glance around briefly, looking to see if any one of your friends was near. If they saw this they would freak. They’d yell and scream at you to delete it without opening it. 
You knew you couldn’t. 
The coast was clear and you inhale deeply, holding it in until the message was open. 
From: Harry.
“Hey.”
Just one simple word. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you type back.
To: Harry.
“Hi.”
Three gray dots show up on the screen almost instantly, like he was watching the message thread and waiting for you to respond while you were having a crisis on the other end. You drum your fingers against the back of your phone, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you watch them disappear and reappear, as if he was typing and rethinking whatever he was saying. Then it finally shows up. 
From: Harry.
“Busy?”
Yet another message with one single word. Narrowing your eyes, you quickly type back that you were at the bar with your friends. The typing bubble comes up again, but he doesn’t seem to hesitate on sending this time because the only thing that comes up is an address. Assuming it’s his new place, you look around for your friends but don’t see them in your line of sight. 
You argue back and forth with the angel and devil perched on your shoulders. You know this means he wants you to come over. But it’s a bad idea, right? On the other hand you miss him, more than you ever missed anyone, and not getting to tell him how much you loved him when he left made it impossible to forget him. 
Just one time wouldn’t hurt, right?
Your phone buzzes in your hand, his name lighting up your phone in a different way this time. You press the green button without hesitation, putting a hand over your other ear to hear him better. But the other end of the line is silent, save for his breathing. Neither of you wanted to be the first to speak. Then he clears his throat.
“Come over.” He’s almost begging, and you sense some undertone in his plea. “Please. Just miss you.” He admits and the alcohol clouding your mind makes it sound like honey dripping from his tongue and you don’t question it. 
“Miss you too.” You slur, twisting a strand of hair through your fingers and looking towards the floor. “I’ll be there in 20.” You say without thinking about it and hang up quickly. 
You don’t waste time, leaving the bar and typing his address into your phone to get directions. On the way over, you think about turning around and going home, because this is crazy. You swore you were done with him, you didn’t beg him to stay, didn’t beg him to come back…and yet you’re unsure why it was so easy for you to come to his beck and call at your expense. 
You decide that it would be a problem for you to figure out when you’re sober.
You pull up in front of his place in a quaint little neighborhood, one you never imagined he would be living in. Sitting in your car for a moment, mustering up the courage to go knock was proving to be difficult but you take a deep breath and get out anyway. Standing in front of his door, you only get one knock in before he’s swinging the door open, not wasting any time like he was waiting there for you the entire time.
He’s there, standing in front of you, dressed in nothing but those goddamn gray sweats that seem to leave nothing to imagination and your brain sends itself into overdrive. It was like you were seeing him for the first time, and he was you. Looking at each other wordlessly, it seems to say everything the two of you need. You could see it in his eyes—longing, lust and a hint of repentance swirling in his gaze, but you know you’re not here for that. 
He surges forward, and you meet him in the middle. When your lips meet, you forget he isn’t yours anymore. Your heart melts along with your body pressing into him as your tongues dance together and heat swirls below your navel. It’s anything but gentle, teeth clashing together and tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers tangle in strands of your hair, tightening his grip at the root and you whimper into his mouth. He backs into the foyer, bringing you with him without detaching his lips from yours. He lowers himself, tapping the sides of your thighs gently and wrapping his hands ‘round the backs of them and you know what he wants you to do. You jump slightly and he lifts you as you wrap your legs around his hips and he shuts the door, backing you into it and you arch your back, pushing your chest against his. You finally pull away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath. He doesn’t say anything, attaching his lips to your pulse point and lightly nipping at the skin there and you let a whine escape, leaning your head back to give him more access.
“Har.” Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth gritting at the marks he’s leaving on your skin, pain morphing into pleasure that clouds your senses. 
“Missed you so much, dovey. Can’t believe I let you fucking go.” He mutters against your collarbone between kisses. 
“Please.” You breathe out, and he brings his gaze to meet yours now. Using the door for leverage, he brings one hand up, drawing over your lips with his thumb and you part them for him. Placing the pad of his thumb against your tongue, you wrap your lips around his digit and suck lightly, hollowing your cheeks and his eyes flutter as he leans his forehead against yours.
“Fuck, angel. Missed this pretty mouth too.” He pants and pulls his thumb from your mouth, rubbing your own salivation over your lips. 
“Why am I here if you’re not going to fuck me?” You manage to ask, wanting to cut to the chase and still a little breathless. He grins.
“Who said I wasn’t? Just wanna take you in first. Didn’t think you’d show up.” 
“Well, I did. Please fuck me. Need it so much, Harry.” You beg and his grin grows. Carrying you, he walks you through the unfamiliar layout of his house until you reach the bedroom and he’s laying you down gently, climbing over you and kissing over exposed skin. His fingers dance under the hem of your shirt, sliding under and he palms over your tits and squeezing lightly. Your hands find his face in the dark and pull his lips to yours again.
The kiss is only brief, he stands and pushes his sweats off his body, kicking the material from his legs and he works on undressing you. He pulls your shirt over your head and immediately his fingers flick the button of your jeans open, pulling them and your panties off in one go. When he climbs back over you, you trail your hands from his chest to his navel, wrapping one hand around his cock and tugging gently. Thumbing over the tip, collecting the evidence of his own arousal. He swears under his breath, chest heaving at your gentleness and you don’t really want to waste any more time. You line him up with your entrance, forgoing any foreplay for the sake of just needing him to fill you like you’ve been craving. He seems to understand the desire you feel, slowly pushing into you and dropping his head to your chest. 
“Fucking missed this.” He says through gritted teeth, following his words with a garbled groan as he slides into you. You can only muster a whimper in response, the feel of him stretching you open leaving your brain fuzzy and unable to form a coherent thought and all you know is him…his touch…his cock. He stills when he reaches the hilt, warming himself inside you and he brings his head up to look at you underneath him. He can’t help but take in your flushed cheeks and your eyes squeezed shut, and he just loves how pretty you look like this. Like an angel. He pulls out to the tip and without warning drives into you over and over, hips meeting yours and his mouth pulls up at the corner at the noises you can’t hold in.
“Heard you fucking went out with Nathan.” He seethes and your eyes fly open at his claim. He knows you weren’t expecting him to bring it up with his dick inside you, but you know where he’s going. “Did he fuck you like this? Did he fill you like I can, pretty girl?” You can’t seem to find it in you to answer, lost in how he makes you feel. And you did sleep with Nathan, but you weren’t exactly sure how Harry knew that. 
“Answer me, baby.” He purrs against the skin under your ear, lips brushing against you as he whispers in your ear and you shake your head.
“N-no. Nobody—fuck—nobody does it like you.” It was the truth. Harry just knew how to satisfy you in a way no other man could. He knew you like the back of his hand, knew the spots that would make you scream his name…knew how to work you up just right until you were squirming just from his touch. 
“That’s right. Nobody fucking does it like me, dovey.” He’s relentless with his pace, looking for one outcome and one outcome only. He hits a spot deep inside your pussy over and over until you feel that all too familiar pressure building in your core. Your fingernails scrape over his back, clawing and holding him closer to you. 
“Har, m’gonna—” You can’t get the full sentence from your throat, your moan muffled as you bite onto his shoulder.
“I know it, angel. Fucking give it to me. Wanna feel you soaking me.” 
So you do, you let go and the pressure releases and you’re crying out and he’s got a smirk plastered on his face knowing no one but him can make you feel this way. You’re holding your breath and he’s tapping your face lightly to bring you back down to earth. 
“Breathe, dove.” He encourages and you exhale, chest deflating and your body goes limp from exhaustion. He fucks into you slower now, allowing you to recover and you give him a tired smile. His movements halt and he lifts your hips from the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and splaying his hands across your back while he kisses you again and again, pecking lightly until you’re giggling. 
Without pulling out of you, he pulls you to his chest and rolls until you’re on top of him, the shift in position pushing his cock in a little bit further. Your limbs are jelly and you steady yourself by flattening your palms on his chest. You roll your hips lazily, clit rubbing over his skin and making yourself shudder. You clench around him as his head drops back against the headboard, eyes rolling back from pleasure. His hands find your hips and squeeze, dimpling the supple skin. His fingers digging into your flesh burns but he knows this is how you like it, he knows that you like it best when it hurts just a little bit. Love looking in the mirror and seeing the evidence of his touches all over you.
He guides you the way he wants, rolling your hips over his cock before helping you bounce, ass meeting the top of his thighs so deliciously. It’s slow at first, then you find your own rhythm and fuck his cock into you and he’s a mess underneath you now. Praising you and roaming his hands from your ribs down to the swell of your ass. 
“Doing so fucking good, angel—taking me so well. Know you were made just for me.” His teeth clench together and his jaw ticks. “Can I cum in your pretty pussy, baby?” 
“God yes, Harry. Please.” You beg him and he nods, chuckling and throwing his head back once more. His hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him forcefully and you whine. 
“You’re a fucking dream, dove. So good to me even when I don’t deserve it.” He holds you there and he takes over, bucking his hips so he’s fucking you again and holds you just where he wants you. It doesn’t take much more before you feel him twitching inside you and feel the warmth of his cum spilling into you and it sends you over again, coil snapping as you pulse around him. You kiss over his neck as he rides you both through the high.
You stay there for a moment wrapped up in eachother, skin sticky with sweat and chests heaving together with pants and short breaths. Your head rests on his collarbone and you draw circles over the swallow on his chest and his fingers find a path on your spine, running down before coming back up. It was fast and quick and everything you needed. He turns his head and nudges you with his nose, pressing his lips to your skin and breathing in.
“I’m sorry.” You hear him whisper against your temple. Your eyes look up at him and feel your heart melting at the sight of him, sweaty and euphoric with his curls sticking to his forehead. 
“We don’t have to talk about it right now.” You mutter. “Just let me pretend the past six months didn’t happen for a little while longer.” He nods, pecking your temple once more, then twice. Exhaustion takes over your mind and you’re almost asleep on his chest when the shrill ring of your phone brings you to a panic.
You jump off of him, searching on the floor for your phone and when you find it you see it's a friend calling you. You swear under your breath, heart pounding in your chest when you realize you forgot to tell them you were leaving. You press the button and bring it to your ear as Harry flicks on his bedside lamp and illuminates the room with a soft glow. 
“Hello?” You say, calming yourself and trying not to sound too casual. 
“Where are you?” She asks curtly, and you curse yourself again for not mentioning you were leaving sooner.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and left. I tried to find you but I couldn’t. Then I forgot to text. I’m sorry.” You lie and she’s silent on the other end for a beat.
“So you’re home?” 
“Yeah.” Another lie. They didn’t have to know you were in Harry’s bed. Not yet at least. You’d tell them eventually. Just not right now. You chew on the inside of your lip, and look over at Harry who has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes at him and bite back your own grin. 
“Okay. Well…feel better I guess.” She says and hangs up. You let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
You knew it was a bad idea.
Yet you didn’t seem to care as you crawled between his sheets and went to sleep.
783 notes · View notes
loupy-mongoose · 2 months
Text
Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)
It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!
PREVIOUS NEXT
~~~~~~
Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.
Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.
The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.
Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!
Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.
Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.
Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.
He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.
Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)
Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.
The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.
There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.
Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.
What could be done?
They came to a silent agreement.
Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...
To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.
Curiosity.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.
Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)
The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.
Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?
The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...
The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.
I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...
Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...
Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.
Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media
~~~~~~
PREVIOUS NEXT
New skill acquired~
And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.
Tumblr media
Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD
Tumblr media Tumblr media
415 notes · View notes
neochan · 9 months
Text
FAULT LINE (M) - TEASER
Tumblr media
PAIRING. ex!haechan x reader
GENRE. exes to lovers, toxic relationship, smut, plot of sorts, street racer au (barely)
WARNINGS. toxicity, smut mentions
WC. teaser is 1.1k
A. NOTE. so i needed a break from the pick me chronicles and stumbled across this type of hyuck characterization!
Tumblr media
"where the fuck are you at?"
blearily blinking, you take a look around. when did you step outside? you think as hard as you can, but nothings coming too. you're drunk. very drunk.
people littered the front of the club - some waiting on ubers, others making out. but you - why were you out here? where were your friends?
"y/n. tell me where the fuck you are."
oh shit.
the phone pressed to your ear brings you back into a sort of semi-focus. you faintly remember crying to a random stranger in the bathroom about your recent break up. the poor girl had reassured you that everything would be okay, but you barely recall pushing her aside and mumbling something about calling your ex to make up.
that was until you had caught the attention of a guy at the bar and ended up doing green tea shots with him.
oh.
oh shit.
okay yeah, every memory was bombarding you now.
if the the still sticky cum dribbling down your thighs didn't serve as a reminder, than the memory of him pressing your hips against the porcelain sink while he fucked into you should have.
"y/n?"
and then you stepped outside to call your ex because. . . you felt bad? yeah you felt bad.
his voice was becoming more impatient with each passing silent second.
"hy-uck?" you hiccup.
he sighs, "god, i thought you passed out or something."
he didn't sound mad. had you already told him what you did? you can't remember.
"hyuck." the whimper trembles from your lips, "i need you."
"i know, that's why you called me." he seems to be fumbling around with something on his end, the muffled strain of his voice giving it away. "baby, where are you? i called you earlier but you didn't hit me back."
tears start to well in your eyes as you press against the brick wall of the club.
"i went out dancing and i did something bad. i-i'm sorry." your words are slurring together and it's becoming harder to breathe. "i didn't mean to, he- he just. . ." your voice trails off in a whisper.
"he? who the fuck are you with?" the jangle of keys sounds on the other line, a few seconds later accompanied by the slam of haechans front door. his temper is rising. he knows he should calm down. shit, he's probably scaring you bad right now, but the thought of you with another guy? you broke up two days ago. why the fuck would you be with another guy.
"i fucked up, hyuck."
"this isn't a game. send me your fucking address." the purr of his car engine rumbles through the phone.
shakily, you take the phone from your ear and send him your location.
"i'll be there in five." another sigh on his end... "if i see whoever this guy is, i'm not sure i'd be able to stop myself from killing him."
you hiccup, "yeah, i know."
Tumblr media
four minutes and thirty eight seconds later a black ford shelby GT500 screeches to a halt against the curb.
through blurry eyes, you watch as grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt approach your slouched figure. his jaw is set, eyebrows drawn up - yet you feel nothing but relief.
"jesus, how much did you fucking drink?" he scoops you up in his arms to help you stand despite your wobbly frame. the earth is swimming in your frame with each step you take, but being pressed against his lean body grounds you. so does the cologne doting his chest - so familiar and warm, you press your nose into his t-shirt.
"you smell good." you hum.
"thanks." he peers down at you with a curiosity you don't notice. maybe the breakup affected you way more than he thought because he's never seen you this fucked up. "theres a curb right here, be careful."
deep in your muddled brain, you want to kiss him and thank him for coming to get you - for actually being worried about you for once.
but you don't.
instead, you climb into the rich leather interior of his car and settle back. it stings, being back in a place you once felt so comfortable in. tears pinprick the corner of your eyes for a quick second, but you blink them away. you just let hyuck reach across your chest and buckle you in.
"hyuck i'm sorry."
his gaze fall to yours, millions of emotions lurking deep in those luminous doe eyes. you look nearly innocent and he felt bad.
he swears underneath his breath, "your guilty conscious is gonna be the death of me."
a shaky hand reaches out to touch his cheek. a familiar gesture you can't yet get rid of - not when he's three inches away from you. "hyuck-"
"fuck this." he pulls back and cards a hand through his hair. "what were you doing with another guy?"
"we- we were doing shots and -"
"how many." he breathes.
"a couple? i don't know, maybe. . . maybe three?"
a forced huff leaves his chest, "three shots with a fucking stranger?"
"hyuck, i said i'm sorry-" your hands twist regrettably in your lap.
"yeah yeah, and then what?" he's leaning against the passenger doorframe, leg bouncing right next to you.
"and then he took me into the bathroom and we fucked."
a few seconds of silence. you try to face him. you can't. why did everything have to be so complicated.
"you fucked another guy but called me to come get you?" he sneers. he has to have lost all respect for you. there's no way he hasn't.
"i'm sorr-"
"i get it. you're sorry." he pushes off the doorframe and starts to pace. "what's his name?"
the lump in your throat grows when you realize you never caught his name. "i don't know."
"you don't know? so you fucked a complete stranger?" a laugh rips from his throat, "this is unbelievable."
"can we just go? please."
he ignores your question and presses you further, "what does he look like?"
"hyuck no. please, can we go."
each word is punctuated by the grit in his teeth. "what does he fucking look like."
it was futile to argue with hyuck when he got this way. he was gonna find out who this guy was either way.
"pink hair, silver button down, black pants, expensive watch. probably drinking green tea shots." the details of the night might have been distorted, but you could have picked out this handsome stranger in a line up.
"stay right here. i'll be back."
"no! hyu-" your cry is cut off by the slam of your door. anxiously, you watch his lithe figure move past the bouncer and into the club. a sinking feeling falls in the pit of your stomach.
what the fuck did you do.
Tumblr media
ANOTHER NOTE. is this worth continuing? let me know if it is :)
1K notes · View notes
thechaoticdruid · 3 months
Text
[We'll Protect Each Other]
Paring: F!Tav x Astarion
Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.
Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.
Tumblr media
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night. 
‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’
Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight.  Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring. 
Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him.  Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long. 
Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.
“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.
Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back.  The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.  
“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.
“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”
The elf quickly slapped his hand away. 
“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off. 
Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him.  “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.
“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.
“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry. 
“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her. 
“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.
Rothé blood….
“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood. 
“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?” 
“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face. 
“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”
“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.
“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.” 
“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips. 
Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.
“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~” 
“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little. 
“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-”  The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.
“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips. 
“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.
“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.
“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.
“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone. 
“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.
“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused. 
“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly. 
“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”
“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch. 
“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.
“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.
“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.” 
“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!” 
“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?” 
“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred. 
        •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.
“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.
“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted. 
“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?” 
“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow. 
“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.
“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag! 
“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.” 
“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.
“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!” 
“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav. 
“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.
“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.
Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.
Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin.  And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.
It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place. 
“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight.  She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind.  She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat. 
“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back. 
“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered. 
“I needed to see you again. I require your help.” 
“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”
“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.
Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.
“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.
“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female. 
With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin! 
“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid.  That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge. 
Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.
“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted. 
“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.
“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor. 
“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female. 
Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head. 
“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock. 
“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern.  The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.
Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg. 
“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.
Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur.  She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.
The she-orc smirked triumphantly.
“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head. 
“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull.  Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.
Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength. 
“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself. 
“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed. 
“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker.  She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze. 
“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy. 
“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.
“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.
“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade. 
“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.
Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her.  His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.
“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.
“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.
“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face. 
“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.  
Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood. 
 He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground. 
“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.
“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.
“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.
“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.  
“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look. 
Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.
Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things.  Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out. 
“You did it, you know.” She hummed.
“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.
“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”
“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed. 
“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.” 
“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”
He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.
The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!
313 notes · View notes
mavrintarou · 3 months
Text
[3:45PM] Suna Rintarou (prequel of DD) [2]
Happy birthday to Suna Rintarou! I know I've made him a clingy fox but I honestly think this man is a clingy fox when he's in love.
Warning: clingy man and smut (18+)
Prequel (part 1) Prequel (part 3)
.
“So, what’s going on with you and this woman?” Osamu inquired, his brow furrowed in curiosity.
The glass cup froze at Rin’s lips, and the whiff of yeast in the beer hit his senses. Gulping his beer, he set the cup down. “It’s going…”
When he woke up alone in his bed two days ago, he was slapped in the face with disappointment and anger.
“Haah…” a bitter laugh escapes his dry lips, lips that he could still taste her from hours ago.
Rin slams his fist into the pillow she was sleeping on out of anger and frustration.
He frowned when his fist came into contact with what seemed to be a piece of paper.
Hey sleepy head,
I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t budge. I was called in for an overnight flight, there was no one else near that could do it so I had to go.
I’ll text you when I land in Istanbul.
Y/n
Rin waited for her text like an obedient puppy that entire day.
Looking back, he can’t remember the last time he was excited to receive a text message.
[**note: The green color text is dialogue text message exchanged in the past]
Hey.
After leaving him hanging for over 15 hours, he can’t say he was elastic to receive a Hey from her.
Hey you. He texted back.
She quickly responded As I promised, I’d text you when I landed. Were you upset when I wasn’t there when you woke up?
Yes. He texted back. Very upset.
A little taste of your own medicine? :P
Rin let out a scoff.
Don’t be mad, I left you a note though, right?
She did, unlike him.
You did, not mad at all, sad but not mad. When can I see you again? He sounded desperate and was desperate, but he didn’t care.
I thought you said one date.
He chewed his lip, and quickly typed I didn’t specify…
You mean you haven’t had your full fill of me yet?
“No,” Rin answered out loud, his fingers quickly typing his response. Fuck no. If I didn’t make it very clear, Y/l/n Y/f/n, I’m very interested in you and want to get to know you more. He doesn’t know where this confidence is coming from, but he is going to piggyback off of it before he loses it. I don’t mean it as in your body, that’s a bonus. I know we are very compatible in bed, you can’t deny that. But I want to get to know you on a mental and emotional level too. And other physical levels too.
When he didn’t see her respond quickly, he groaned. She had the power to put him on his toes, he was willing to admit he was wrapped around her fingers.
His phone finally dinged a notification.
I’ll be home on the 25th.
It’s the 25th and he hasn’t heard from her, the last time they spoke was more than 48 hours ago.
Boundaries, his conscience is always reminding him. As if the universe is watching him and shaking their heads, they have been sending all sorts of videos and posts about dating. He’s been seeing them all over his social media platforms. He began watching dating tips and it opened his eyes.
But today was his birthday, and she said she would be home on his birthday. She didn’t specifically say on his birthday but on the 25th, his birthday, so he was going to convince himself she was returning for his birthday.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Hey, are you free for a call?
Instead of replying, he called her.
“Hey,” he breathed. He hurried out of the bar and shuffled away from the loud noise coming from the entrance of the bar.
“Am I… catching you at a bad time?”
God, I missed her voice, Rin thought.  
“No,” his breath is visible against the cold January night air. “Are you home?”
“Yeah,” she sounded like she was shuffling around, “just ended my shift. Are you… still down to meet?”
Rin looked at his watch, it was already 10 PM, was she… implying…
“I’m out at the bar at the moment, do you want to come out?”
It was a moment of silence before she replied, “sure, text me the address.”
Twenty minutes later, Rin kept looking at the door, his eyes instantly at the door every time it opened but would look away disappointed when it wasn’t the person he was waiting for.
Atsumu followed his gaze, “are you waiting on your girl? Is she coming here?”
The corner of Rin’s mouth curved into a smirk, his girl. “Yeah, she’s coming.”
At last, the person he’d been waiting for walked through the door and glanced around the place. Standing up, Rin marches over towards her.
Y/n smiles the moment their eyes meet, “hey – “
The rest of her words are cut off as Rin pulls her into a hug. It was a full-on bear hug, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “Missed you…”
Y/n pulls back and frowns, “had a lot to drink already?”
He nodded his head, his bangs flapping.
Y/n reached to brush his bangs away, “where’s your table at?”
He shook his head, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his chest. “Let’s go…”
“Go where? Shouldn’t we at least say hang out for a little bit – “
“No, we can go, go anywhere… I’ve had enough drinks for the night.” It was true, he didn’t want to drink anymore now that Y/n was here right beside him. He just wants alone time with her.
He groaned when he heard his name being called by Miya twins. Looking over his shoulder, he cast a glare at them to shut up but that only taunts them to shout his name even more.
Before he could do something, Y/n dragged him towards the table.
“Oho! You’re Suna’s girl?” Atsumu’s loud voice rang throughout the bar. “I’m Atsumu, this is Osamu, we’re high school buddies of Suna’s.”
Y/n smiled at them returning the greeting and all Rin could think about was how he was not happy to share her smile with his friends. Her smile was his and his only.
“Okay, Suna, stop glaring at us, go.” Osamu waved his hand in a shooing manner. “Happy birthday by the way.”
Rin watched Y/n’s eyes widen before she looked at him, “that’s right, it’s your birthday!” She leaned over and waved at a waitress, “a round of beer and shots at table 3 please!”
.
“Rin…” Y/n shakes him by his chin, “put in your passcode…”He opened his tired eyes and stared at his door lock, his mouth opened but Y/n covered his mouth before he could speak. “Just press it, don’t say it.”
He moved her hand, mumbling, “how do you not know…”
Y/n frowned, “I don’t know and I shouldn’t know your passcode, we’re not that close yet.”
Rin stood on his own and held a finger, “watch,” he used that finger to press his passcode in. “Now, you know.”
Y/n looks away with a smile tugging at her lips, “get inside.” She pulls at the door and drags him inside.
.
His head was pounding. He stares at the ceiling contemplating his life choices from last night.
A sigh of relief comes from his left and his head turns immediately.
He was 99% sure it was Y/n with her back facing him but there was that 1% that left him feeling uneasy. He couldn’t remember how he made it home but he was sure that he remembered seeing Y/n come to the bar… it was everything after that that he had no recollection of.
It was most definitely Y/n, she fit perfectly beside him just as he remembered. Carefully, he leaned over to get a glimpse and silently sighed in relief when it was her.
His brows frowned when he noticed the fresh blue-purple bruise on her right cheekbone. Without thinking, he flipped her on her back, waking her up. “What happened to your face?” He carefully cupped her face, his breath hitching when she flinched. “Who hurt you? Who gave you this bruise?”
“You, you did,” Y/n murmured, closing her eyes. “I’m very tired, I haven’t slept in over 24 hours. So let me sleep please.” She shifts and wiggles until she can pull the covers over her.
That’s when Rin realized they had been sleeping on top of his comforters instead of under.
He rolled her on her back again, “I’ll let you sleep in a bit but tell me, how did I give you this bruise? Did – did I hit you?”
She opened her left eye and stared at him. Genuine concern was written on his face making her think twice before she teased him. She didn’t doubt at all that he would ever lay his hand on a woman in violent ways, she can only imagine all the things running in his head. “No, Rin, you did not hit me. You head-butt me instead, on accident of course.”
She explained how she brought him inside and was trying to get him in bed when he tripped and knocked the both of them on his bed. His head collided with her cheek painfully hard making her see stars for a few seconds. He knocked out, locking her beneath him. She had no choice but to just throw his comforters over them instead of getting under.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, eyes on her bruise. “Can I… sleep beside you?”
“Sure,” she smiled tiredly and closed her eyes, instantly falling asleep once again.
She must have been so tired and she still came out to the bar. He thought to himself. As gently as possible without waking her up, he pulled the comforters up to her chin. She was so deeply asleep she didn’t stir when he pressed a kiss to her temple and a faint one to the bruise.
.
Y/n was not used to having someone cuddle against her, let alone a 6’3 grown man.
But she didn’t have the heart to wake him up.
Looking at her watch, it was the late afternoon already. They had slept their entire day away.
That was something she was used to, whenever she would return from flying halfway around the world. She would need half a day to a whole day to readjust to the time zone.
Except this last flight. She left in a hurry as soon as she could and dropped off her luggage at home. She should have showered and would have but he had called her.
She quickly sprayed some perfume and left her place to meet him.
Y/n couldn’t count how many times she had reread his text message.
I don’t mean it as in your body, that’s a bonus. I know we are very compatible in bed, you can’t deny that. But I want to get to know you on a mental and emotional level too.
If she was honest with herself, she would say Rin was head over heels for her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to it, but she had never had someone younger than her show this much interest in her. She would admit that she did not realize how much younger he was to her. She thought he was her age if not older.
With her lifestyle revolving around her career, having a committed relationship was not a priority for her. If it wasn’t for his persistence and foolishness in kneeling in front of her in public, she would not have given him a second chance.
It’s an unspoken rule that you don’t have second times with the same person that was meant to be a one-night stand.
But Y/n herself… couldn’t help but give in to him.
Enjoy it while you can, she told herself.
A low groan rumbled from the body that was squishing her, “are you hungry?”
Y/n thought for a second before responding, “yes, now that you mentioned it.”
Rin lifts his head off her shoulder, his hair flopped upward messily. His eyes zeroed in on her bruise. “God, I’m so sorry.”
“Did it get uglier?” Her tone is teasing, she reaches to touch it but Rin catches her wrist.
“No, take this as a compliment but you can make a bruise look beautiful.” He kissed her knuckles. “Come, let’s go get something to eat.”
.
Rin didn’t want to part from her. He had a feeling they would go their way after this meal.
He had ordered food and had it delivered to his place to avoid having Y/n go out in public with the bruise on her cheek.
So he took his merry time eating his hangover Miso soup.
He turned a blind eye each time she would tilt her watch to check the time.
“Are you regretting your life choices with alcohol and beer?” Y/n teased watching him sigh and stare at his soup. Y/n frowned when he looked up at her like a child afraid to ask a question. “What?”
“Are you going to leave after this?” He finally asked the question that had been eating him up inside.
“Do you not have work tomorrow?”
He shook his head, “no, I have the rest of the week off.” He waited a heartbeat before asking, “what about you?”
It was Y/n’s longer time off. Once a month, she’ll get four to five days off before resuming her hectic schedule again. Usually with her time off, she spent the time relaxing and running any errands she needed to while home.
Without any set plans, she caught on to his clear obvious hint. Y/n, in a playful yet earnest manner, narrowed her eyes at him and inquired, “why do you ask?”
“Because I want to hang out with you.” He answered right away. “We could do anything you want…” He looked at her with waiting eyes, “I just want to be with you.”
Y/n couldn’t resist the delight of being desired by someone, particularly someone as captivating as Rintarou. His charm and voice had her completely enchanted, and the more time she spent with him, the more spellbound she became. Is he completely unaware that his words to her evoked sensations in her heart that she had only fantasized about?
Being the one to break the intense staring going on between them, she could feel her face warming up. “I have tomorrow off as well,” she stated, locking eyes with him once more, this time with more confidence. “So, what should we do?”
.
Rintarou did not peg Y/n as one to enjoy horror films. His intentions after she allowed him to choose a film, a horror film, was to have her cuddle against him so he could wrap his arms protectively around her.
Instead, he sat beside her, pouting as Y/n’s full undivided attention was set on the film.
It was like she forgot he was there. Like she forgot she was supposed to cuddle beside him and let him make her feel safe.
After they finished their meals, Y/n was going to go back to her place to change and shower and return but Rin held on to the end of her shirt like a lost puppy
“Just use my bathroom…” he begged, staring at her with puppy begging eyes.
“What about clothes?”
You don’t need clothes, he wanted to say. “Just use my clothes…” After those words left his lips, he realized he may not survive if he saw her wearing his clothes.
Y/n sighed, she did not like clingy behaviors but she couldn’t bring herself to say no or deny him.
“Fine…”
His invisible puppy ears perked up and his tails wagged excitedly. “Want to shower together?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she laughed.
After her quick shower, she came out wearing a baggy shirt of his with his sweatpants.
Rin looked away and tried to distract his mind with other thoughts to prevent a boner from happening.  
His fists had been clutching tightly to his sweatpants for almost the last hour, did she not realize what she was doing to him sitting next to him wearing his clothes?
He cleared his throat for the fourth time and slowly, her chin turned towards him but her eyes couldn’t leave the screen.
The plot of the film had finally reached the truth behind all the paranormal activities.
“Y/n,” Rin whispered.
Her chin was still tilted in his direction except her eyes. “Hmm?”
“Is this film that good?” He’d heard good reviews on this film, but all he could watch was her.
She hummed after a few seconds.
“Can we cuddle?”
At last, her eyes finally left the screen and looked at him. She scooted closer and curled against his side after fully comprehending his question. “Is that why you huffin’ and puffin’ over there?”
He hummed after a few seconds, a smile on his face, finally satisfied. He hooked an arm beneath her knees and threw her legs over his lap. “This is much better.”
Ten minutes into the film, she felt his head rest against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His warm breath was steadily fanning her neck and collarbone.
He had fallen asleep.
As soon as the film was over, Y/n reached for the remote without moving too much to wake him up.
“Is it finally over?”
“Yep,” she answered, “that was one hell of a plot twist that you missed out on.”
Rin’s arms tightened around her and he hummed against her neck, rubbing his nose against her pulse. “Tell me about it, please?”
Turning off the TV, Y/n saw their reflection on the TV screen. With their height difference, his neck was awkwardly angled so his head could rest on her shoulder.
“If you’re tired, go to bed.”
He shook his head, squeezing her waist. “I’m tired but I don’t want to go to bed.” When she lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair, he nearly let out a moan when her nails began massaging his scalp.
His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin there but was immediately stopped by Y/n who shifted away and gripped his chin, “don’t mark me.”
Rin didn’t mask his disappointment and muttered, “fine.”
Her lips curved as she squeezed his cheeks, making his lips pucker, “tell me,” her voice dropped an octave lower, “why are you hard?”
With his lips still puckered he responded, “blame it on your thighs.” He pulls away from her grip and squeezes her thigh which is pressed against his cock. Ever since he pulled her legs over his lap, he couldn’t get the thought of her riding him out of his head, which was why he had to force himself to sleep the rest of the film.
His little nap only worsened as he had enough time to dream about Y/n riding him.
“It’s so… squishy…” he squeezed harder, making her squirm in his lap. “And soft…” He leaned forward until their lips were closed, “and I want to bury my face between them…” He didn’t miss the hitch in her breath. “So what do you say, Y/n?”
“Less talking and more doing, Rin…”
In an instant, she’s flipped onto her back on the couch with Rin kneeling in between her legs. His fingers grip the waistband of his sweatpants on her and frowned, “no panties?” The smirk on her face answered his question. Tugging off his sweatpants, he confirmed his suspicion. “Can’t believe you sat on my lap practically with no panties.” Hooking both her legs over his shoulders, he grins happily at her before his face disappears in between her legs.
Y/n buckled against his lips, thighs crushing against his head. “Rin,” she choked out his name and moaned loudly when two fingers thrust knuckles deep. “Oh God…”
She looked down at the man, his eyes were already on her, staring straight at her as he feasted on her.  
With his other free hand, he slipped it inside his shirt she was wearing and groaned when his palm touched her tit. She was wearing no bra beneath his shirt. His cock twitched, nearly cumming from being excited.
“Rin… Rin please…”
He suckled her clit before letting it go with a pop. “Please?”
Widening her legs, and freeing his head, she begged, “you… I want you.”
Rin lets out a shaky laugh and straightens himself. Hearing her say she wanted him nearly undoes him in ways he has never realized. He pushed his waistband down and frees his cock.
He tugs Y/n until she is flat on her back and her ass is hanging off the couch before hiking her legs over his shoulders. Rin pulls the end of his shirt to his lips and bites down on the material before guiding his cock to the wet and glossy pussy.
“Argh,” he lets out a low growl and pushes until he is fully inside her.
He starts with slow and steady thrusts, savoring how her pussy is tightly hugging his cock.
Y/n’s lewd soft moans hypnotize him making him want to slow down or else he may just cum embarrassingly fast.
“Rin – Rin,” she reaches to rub her clit but he slapped her hand away.
His shirt drops as he growled, “I’ll do it…” he spread her legs apart and became thrilled at the sight of his cock moving in and out of her pussy. His thumb found the swollen clit and he began circling it. He felt her clench tighter around his cock. “Are you going to cum?”
Y/n’s hands clutched her chest, she nodded, teeth biting down on her lower lip.
“I can’t hear you?”
“Yes!” She shouted.
He flashed her a satisfied lopsided grin before quickening his pace. Leaning forward he wrapped his other hand behind her head, bringing her lips to his.
They were both near their orgasm and with a few more thrusts they both whimpered in sync.
“Ah,” he groaned against her lips. A sheer thin of sweat is visible across his face. He opened his eyes, staring at her closed one. At some point her hands have gripped the collar of his shirt in a tight fist, keeping close to her.
Where he only wants to be.
Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her deeply and passionately.
Y/n moaned, pulling a way to gasp for a breath. His face flushed making him adorable in her eyes…
“You…” he breathed, “you make me feel things… do things… I’ve never done it before.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her nose, “now, can we shower together?”
.
Rin hated waking up early on his days off.
But it all changed now with this woman still in his arms, in his bed, sleeping soundlessly.
After their shower, they both got ready for bed.
The moment she settled into his bed, Rin initiated his attack.
“What the - !” She exclaimed when he threw half his body on her, locking her with his limbs.
“I can’t trust you not disappearing in the morning,” he murmured, burying his face into her chest. “Don’t leave me like last time… wake me up because I want to see you go if you have to go…”
At some point through the night, they shifted, she was now laying over him.
His hand pressed against the back of her head protectively as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning…”  
.
.
.
E/n: This man. I would never be able to say no to this man, ever.
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @krooes
382 notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 7 months
Text
Come and Find Me
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Your objective is always the same: to take Natasha Romanoff down. But you never can seem to accomplish it
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving), enemies that are lovers
Note: Obsessed with the idea of enemies loathing in public and longing for each other in private, so here’s this. Enjoy it!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
You aren’t always proud of what you do. No. Certainly there are times when you wish you had never gone down this path. But life isn’t easy.
It’s not supposed to be.
So, you found a way to make it through. It’s not honest work, but it’s something you’re good at. You can take targets down with ease. One look at you and they’re usually putty in your hands.
Except for one. Natasha Romanoff. The woman is elusive. You have tried a few times to get her to fold, but you never succeed.
She drives you crazy. Both because you can’t take her out and also because you feel an insane attraction to her.
The redheaded woman sits across the room from you at the bar now. You are here to try one last time to take her down. And your intel about her being here was correct.
You wonder how she looks so good under the dim lights of the bar. Her red hair shines as her soft green eyes sparkle. She laughs at some joke that probably wasn’t even funny.
Her smile lights up the room. You wish it was you who made that happen. You push the thought away as soon as it rises. Not right now. You need to focus.
Taking a sip of your drink, you walk across the room to Natasha’s table.
“Excuse me,” you say, directing your attention to the man. Not the woman. “May I speak to the lady? She’s an old friend of mine that I’d just love to catch up with.”
“Oh,” he says. He looks toward Nat. She shrugs. “I’ll give you a moment while I order us another round.”
He stands up looks you over a little too intently before he walks away. Jerk.
“What do you want?” Nat asks. She emphasizes the ‘you’ despite knowing she could call you by name.
“I just want to talk,” you lie.
“Y/n,” Natasha says, leaning forward. Her breasts spill out of her dress and onto the table. You glance at them. She notices.
“Natasha,” you say, leaning forward in the same manner. Your suit jacket prevents her from getting the same look at you though.
Still, Nat smirks. She takes a sip of her drink.
“If you give me the information I need, I’ll spare you,” you tell her.
“I think you’ll spare me anyways,” Nat quips back.
“And why’s that, Romanoff?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re attracted to me,” Nat says.
Her eyes bare into yours. She knows it’s true and so do you. But you know she’s attracted to you too.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” you say. You place your open hands on the table. A sign you won’t strike first. “Your choice.”
Natasha chuckles. It should piss you off but it doesn’t. It just makes you smile.
“The easy way is never easy, y/n,” Nat says. “You know that though.”
“I do.”
“I’m kind of busy right now though,” Natasha says.
“I see that,” you say, glancing at the man at the counter. “He’s into you.”
“He’s an idiot,” Nat replies. “He’s giving me everything.”
“And will you do the same for me?” You ask her.
“You’ll have to kill me for me to give you anything,” Nat says.
She leans in closer than before. You can smell her sweet perfume lofting off her neck. Her lips twist into a grin.
“I really don’t think you’ll kill me, detka,” Nat whispers.
“Natasha,” you whisper back. “Not here.”
“Then where?” She asks.
“I’ll send you the address. 20 minutes. Lose the idiot,” you tell her.
Natasha nods and shifts back into her seat normally. You stand and leave the bar. Nat watches you go.
This always happens. It’s why she’s so elusive. She uses your attraction to her against you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
You text her the address and settle into the safe house room. You aren’t supposed to tell anyone about this location, but you break the rules for her.
Natasha shows up exactly 20 minutes later. She knocks on the door and you open it.
“I can’t tell you anything,” she says as she walks past you.
“What’s new,” you joke.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yes.”
Natasha walks to you and places a hand on your face. She brushes your cheek with her thumb and moves it to your lips. Your lips part slightly.
Nat takes that opportunity to kiss you. Her plump lips feel like a dream. It’s always like this. You kiss her back.
She moans as you deepen the kiss, moving her hands to push your jacket off your shoulders.
“I really loathe you,” you tell Nat as she takes your breasts in her hands. Through your shirt she can feel your nipples hardening.
“Seems like it,” Nat says with a smirk.
She unbuttons your shirt and kisses down your chest with each button. She drops to her knees and undoes your pants as well.
“I also long for you,” you tell her.
“I long for you too,” Nat says.
Nat pulls your pants down and buries her face between your lips. She licks and sucks at your pussy as you squirm above her.
“Nat,” you whine as she pulls you closer and closer to your peak.
“Mmm,” she moans against you.
You push her head further into your center and she picks up her pace.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” you say as Nat’s tongue brings you to orgasm.
Natasha’s strong arms keep you from falling as you come and she cleans you up. She stands up and you pull her in for a hungry kiss.
“You know, I could kill you easily right now,” you tell her between kisses.
“Then you couldn’t fuck me,” Nat says. “And I know you want to do that.”
You sigh and push her back onto the bed. You push her dress up her thighs and bury your face between her legs. Her thick thighs suffocate you as you lick at her pussy.
“Fuck,” Nat mumbles. “If only we weren’t enemies, then we could fuck like this all of the time.”
You take her clit in your mouth and she groans, biting her lip in pleasure. She watches as you bring her closer. You take your time now.
“Now, I loathe you,” Nat says. “Just do it.”
“Patience, Natasha,” you say against her.
She sighs but you pick up your pace anyways. Nat comes against you.
You move up her body and kiss her again. This time with the taste of her on your tongue.
“Can you stay?” You ask.
“For a little while,” Nat replies.
“That’s all I ask.”
You lay next to her and gaze into her eyes. Before she leaves, you go a few more rounds before you fall asleep.
Natasha kisses your forehead and leaves you a note. When you awake, you see it on the bedside table.
Come and find me -N
And you will always do just that.
481 notes · View notes
jksprincess10 · 1 year
Text
I’m starvin’ darling || Dbf!Joel and reader
I’m blaming @itgetsdark-x​ for this. Heavily inspired by one of her ideas.
A/N: No outbreak. Joel lost his wife and daughter. 
CW: Smut (MDNI) Age gap (reader in her mid twenties, Joel in his 40s), squirting, face riding. 
Tumblr media
Joel had been employed at your dad’s construction company for the last 5 years. After he lost his daughter and his wife, he let go of his own company he had with his brother as it was too much pressure for him. He seemed happy, working for your dad. They had become best friends. And when you came back home from studying in another state to become a teacher, you met him.
A gentleman in his 40s, dark brown curls greying in some spots. He had a nicely trimmed beard and kind eyes. Very charismatic and charming. You were attracted to him and insanely lonely for a girl in your mid-twenties. But surely, it was just a stupid girly crush.
You’d see him a lot as you were living with your lonely dad, taking care of him while trying to find a steady contract as a teacher. It had always been respectful, distant.
Until it wasn’t.
A month ago, he picked you up almost black-out drunk from a bar when your dad was already deep asleep. You had kissed in his pick-up truck in front of the house. After that, you kept seeing each other, but never addressing the nature of your relationship. You wanted all of him, and you took every crumb of his self he gave you, whether it was lazy kissing or heavy sex. You wanted it all.
It was the worst idea. But you were indulging in it, living in your obscene bubble until it would actually pop and break everyone around you. You would steal kisses in the kitchen when your dad wasn’t looking, you would spend the night at his place to give him some release when he finished late at the worksite.
Today, you had to leave the bubble you made up to be in public with him. You had to keep a respectful distance. It was an important event, your dad’s company’s annual barbecue. You were coming to help, and well, it was also at your house.
It was a warm summer day in Texas, the shining sun was high in the sky and the heat didn’t come only from seeing your lover.
You were wearing a sweet summer dress. It was a shade of dark green and decorated with flowers. You had put up your hair and laced it with a bow, which made you look like the sweet, innocent girl you weren’t. But this look was popular with your colleagues and got you loads of compliments, so you would know it would make Joel fall to his knees.
You were offering smiles and hugs in your backyard while your dad was already working the BBQ. You were always popular with your dad’s employees; they all loved you. Joel was keeping a protective eye on you from a distance, sipping on his beer.
“Anyone want more drinks? I’ll go inside and grab some.” You offered.
A lot of people raised their hand and thanked you.
“Le’mme help you out, sweetheart. You can’t bring all that by yourself.”
Joel. You smiled sweetly at him and offered your thanks as the two of you went back inside the house, the freshness of the kitchen tiles on your bare feet.
He looked around to make sure you two were alone and grabbed your waist to steal a kiss from you. Your hands laid flat on his chest, feeling the soft cotton fabric of his t-shirt.
“You look fuckin’ amazing, darlin’. Can’t wait to have you all for myself.”
You pulled on his shirt to bring him closer to you and got up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
“Y’know the best part? I’m not wearing anything under it.”
He hummed in response and went for another kiss, but you pulled away with a teasing smile. You turned to the fridge and bent down to grab a fresh pack of beers, giving him a perfect view of your naked behind. You turned around before he could say anything and shoved the beer pack in his arms. You took another one and went back to the backyard. He looked so frustrated with you. You knew you were playing a dangerous game and frankly, the adrenaline you got from it made your heart race.
The two of you went back to the backyard and you served the beers to everyone who wanted one.
The party usually lasted until late at night. You had barely finished your diner and you just wanted to leave with Joel, but you had to be patient.
***
The sun was replaced by the stars and the music was blasting in the backyard. Drunken men were dancing, including your dad. You couldn’t help but laugh at your old man.
“Oh my god dad, you’re embarrassing me. ”
“Come on, my sweet daughter, dance with me!”
You got up to oblige, twirling in your dress. Joel was looking at you two with a smile and he could sometimes catch the glimpse of your soft curves. You shot him a sweet and innocent smirk.
Another man took you from your dad’s arms. He was the son of another employee, and you couldn’t care less about this white skinny guy, but you tried to. Only to make Joel jealous. Your bodies flowed together, and you were closer than you should’ve been. Arms intertwined behind the man’s neck, you had a perfect view of your lover’s grumpy expression. You saw him mouth “Just you wait.” And you smiled brightly at him. When your dance partner asked what you were doing after, you simply said you’d be busy. And God, you would be.
***
Finally, you found the stillness and silence of your home. Your dad had already gone up to his room and he was probably snoring, long gone after the number of beers he took. Joel had stayed to help you clean, well… that was his excuse. But you two knew you were the reason he stayed.
The second your duties were finished, he was all over you, hands grabbing at every inch of skin he could find, mouth altering between kissing your lips and leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You breathed heavily against him, even more as you felt his fingers playing with the edge of your dress.
“You fuckin’ tease… Couldn’t stand seeing that guy all over you…” His fingers creeped under the dress to brush against your burning heat. “ Couldn’t stand knowing you were naked under there for me.”
You pushed him to your bedroom that was on the ground floor, before locking the door behind your hungry bodies. Your lips smashed against his, all teeth and no delicateness. Frankly, you hated waiting so long for you two to be alone. But every time, the waiting was worth the wait.
Joel laid his back on your bed, pulling you on top of him without breaking the kiss. You could feel every inch of his body against the thin fabric of your dress, but still, you wanted more. You wanted to crawl into his skin, so he’d never forget you.
Strong hands met your ass and pushed until you were straddling his neck. You looked down at him, terrified. You had never done this and suddenly, you felt self-conscious of every inch of your body.
It was like Joel read your mind.
“C’mon darling, I’m starving. I’m taking care of you tonight.”
You inhaled sharply.
“Don’t want to kill you.”
“Stop being ridiculous and c’me here.”
He gave you another strong push so you would sit on his face. His hands came down to lift your dress again. He left a kiss on your throbbing heat, and you whined at the feeling. You had thought about him touching you all day and you were so sensitive.
“You’re beautiful in this dress. All for me.”
He licked a stripe up your pussy. One of your hands found his curls and the other one grabbed on the bed’s headboard. Finally, you completely committed and sat on his mouth.
“That’s my good girl.” He praised.
His gorgeous nose was pressing against your clit as his tongue was fucking your hole. Every movement of his head stimulated every inch of you. Your hips moved against him, looking for more friction. 
You were ridiculously close even though you had just started. His name fell quietly from your opened lips.
“M’close, Joel…”
You leaned into his touch, both hands on the headboard, as you were falling apart. White flashed before your eyes and a ball was coming undone in your stomach. Even though you had your orgasm, he kept going, pushing your sensitive body to find its limits.
“C’mon darlin’, I know you can give me more than that.”
His tongue circled your clit while one of his fingers came up to stimulate you from the inside. He curled his finger inside of your body. You concentrated on every sensation he gave you and it wasn’t long until you gave him more. This time, the feeling was different, more intense. He kept working you through your orgasm, drinking every drop of you.
Finally, you fell beside him, and you looked horrified as you saw the mess you had made. Your pillowcase and Joel’s face were ruined. Joel wiped his mouth and turned to meet your gaze.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, cheeks burning.
“Don’t. It’s normal, and it’s hot.”
He pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Wanna go again?” He whispered and you nodded enthusiastically. You were drunk on him, and you wanted every drop of pleasure he could give you. He went down on your body, lifting the dress to your waist.
“But, you – ”
“We have all night, sweetheart.”
His face disappeared between your thighs once again.
1K notes · View notes
Text
fever pitch (b.b.) - part two
previous part | series masterlist
soundtrack: lavender haze - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and Bradley go on a date. they say the wrong things --or right things-- and surprise each other as they get to know each other better. warnings: language, so much unresolved tension, mentions of character deaths, fluffy heartfelt stuff, but also like sexy stuff 👀 notes: i had so much fun writing this! special shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse who had to deal with my annoying thots at all hours. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always. happy reading! <3
✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨
Tumblr media
Subject: Guest Attendance Confirmation From: [email protected]
Dear Madam,
Thank you for confirming your information regarding your upcoming visit to Annabel’s.
It is our pleasure to host you for your dinner reservation on the 23rd of March, 2023, as a guest of our member Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. We hope that you have a wonderful experience dining and entertaining at the Club with us.
In order to ensure your positive and memorable experience with us, we kindly ask all members and guests to be aware of a few key rules of the Club:
DRESS CODE. We encourage individuality and style in your smart attire. After 6PM, gentlemen are required to wear jackets. Read the full dress code guidelines here.
PHONE & PHOTOGRAPHY. As a Private Members’ Club, we kindly ask Members and Guests to refrain from taking photographs within the Club’s premises. Posting content to your social media from your visit to the Club is not permitted. Phones must be kept on silent at all times and are only permitted for use in limited areas of the Club.
For guidance, read the Rules & Bylaws of the Club here.
If you require further information or assistance, please do not hesitate to reach out through this email address or by phone at +44 20 7946 0011.
Thank you and see you soon.
Best wishes, Maude Adams Floor Manager.
***
You’re not sure why you’re bracing for something to go wrong.
The restaurant is rife with opulence, with rich chartreuse and bronze walls and Japanese-style paintings over classic British architecture. Bradley booked a little corner booth just off the fireplace, the privacy still granting a nice view of the grandiose bar across the room. He pulled up your chair and told you that you look beautiful—a good three or four times, and it feels just as genuine as the first. With your show and his training the next day, you both had to pass on the booze and settle with some green tea to go with your food. Conversation flows effortlessly, exploring easy topics like your shared love of old movies, the Venn diagram of your music tastes, the novelty of the sport that he plays…
“Okay, but how did you get into soccer—I mean, football?” You smile sheepishly as you correct yourself. “Sorry. Wouldn’t wanna get maimed to death by the locals.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” And then he takes a deep breath as his finger toys with the condensation on the side of his glass. “It’s… uh, my dad, actually. He bought me a soccer ball for Christmas when I was like 2 and… it’s most of the memories I had with him, playing kickabout in the backyard.”
“Oh?”
He smiles—diplomatically, all things considered. “He died when I was 4.”
Your face falls. Fuck. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…”
“Nah, don’t be. It was a long time ago. And I feel like he’s with me every time I step on the pitch.” Bradley nods, ever so reassuring. He’s had enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for every time his dad comes up in conversation, and he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to do the same.
“But hey, I think it’s wonderful… that he’s right there in spirit with you every game.” You smile back, trying to save this slip-up in conversation. “And I bet your mom’s really proud of you, right?”
To his own surprise, he chuckles. It really is true that tragedy plus time equals comedy. “I mean, I like to think so.” He notices your questioning look, and realizes he needs to let you in on the joke too. “My mom died when I was 17. Cancer. I moved out here and lived with my godfather. Got scouted for Arsenal.”
And there it is.
You’ve been so worried about all the external factors going wrong, that you didn’t consider that the faulty one might be you. 
The clinks of plates and cutleries suddenly become so loud. The subtle piano playing over the speakers sound garbled, like you’re underwater. And the salmon sashimi in your mouth tastes like lead now. How the fuck does lightning manage to strike twice?! 
“I’m sorry, I…” and now you can’t even muster up a proper apology, because what do you even say?! The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a lame excuse, “I… thought it was a good idea not to Google you.”
His heart catches at the sight of you, all wide-eyed and dumbstruck. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with you there. Foot in mouth and all.
But you… you think you must’ve looked so stupid right now. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“No, no, no. It’s alright!” Bradley quickly interjects, that twinkle of amusement in his eyes still lingers. “I appreciate it, actually. I’ll take awkward moments with you over anything else you can Google about me.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Of course. I mean… it’s not like you killed them, did you?”
There’s a split second of silence, when you meet his playful gaze, and his mouth pulls into a grin over your petrified look, and then… the tension simply melts away in a sigh of tentative laughs. The garbled underwater music has come up to the surface, the dining noises dissipates, and everything turns back to normal… ish.
“Anyway, what about yourself? How did you get into… all of this?”
“Oh, it’s all I’ve ever known, really. Pretty sure I sang before I knew how to talk. I was always pestering my mom about ballet and piano lessons and living room concerts… I was that kid, you know?”
The image makes him smile, and it sends butterflies to your stomach. “Your mom must’ve been thrilled.”
“Eh.” You shrug flippantly, and that non-answer is enough of an answer for Bradley. “But she knew I was stubborn as hell, and she’s better off letting me tire myself out than trying to stop me, so…”
“But you didn’t.”
You shake your head. “By 5, I was on Broadway—”
His jaw falls open, and he looks at you like grew a new head. “I’m sorry. Five years old?”
You raise your hand in defense, not wanting to oversell yourself. “To be fair, though, it was mostly luck. My mom was working in the theater company and they needed a kid, so I volunteered to stand in—I mean, naturally,” you roll your eyes at yourself, “And they liked me. So they put me on. But I didn’t have to do anything but pretend to be asleep while the adult cast carried me around.”
“Still. That’s more than most people can say. You continued doing it afterwards, right?”
“Mm-hm. Stage, commercials, TV, the occasional movies… anything I could get my hands on.”
Bradley studies you with this look of awe—not an unusual reaction, he’s sure; it’s a pretty impressive feat. But he also catches a lost sense of melancholy in the way you say it, and he can’t help but ask, “Did you have a childhood at all?”
And your heart catches. That’s something nobody ever asked you before… “What do you mean?”
He pauses, realizing he may have inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject with this line of questioning. So he tries again more carefully. “I just meant… you’ve been working most of your life. Did you ever just get to be a kid?”
“I…” you trail off, considering your answer. You want to say yes, of course you did, but the little sting in your throat makes you question yourself: did you?
And with the soft look in his eyes, you know he knows the real answer to that. Both of you do.
It’s alarming how disarming he can be, and you would hate it… except you don’t. At least not enough to make you run off. “I guess, being in that kind of environment, I didn’t really know how to be a kid…? If that makes any sense.”
Bradley nods, understanding. He’s not entirely sure how to respond, but he wants to be empathetic.
“I went to school and made friends for a while, but…” Normally this would be an uphill point in your story, but tonight… this part is tinged with distant sorrow. “I got a record deal when I was 15, and suddenly I was living in LA and working in the studio or going on tours and… I just wasn’t a kid anymore.”
It breaks his heart, the thought of a childhood lost on you like that. “Wow. You really have lived a life, haven’t you?” He can’t resist but reaches out for your hand. 
The touch makes your heart catch, and it feels overwhelming. It feels like you’re gonna burst, so you chicken out with a lame joke. “Haven’t slept in 22 years.”
Bradley can’t help but smile at that, squeezing your hand three times in comfort. And just like that, the bubble bursts and the world continues on its axis once again. He finishes his last slice of tuna tataki and washes it down with his konacha.
“You know, for how much you’ve done since you started out, I thought you’d be more… Hollywood.”
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Hollywood?”
“Okay, that came out wrong,” he admits bashfully. “I just… you’re very down-to-earth. And real. I guess I expected more, like, an attitude?”
“Oh? I can have an attitude…” you smirk coyly over your tea, “...if you can handle it.”
Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of him. It’s insane how easily you switch from being sweet and vulnerable, to flirty and borderline devilish. But he wasn’t born yesterday, and he knows he’s well-equipped to handle this back-and-forth.
“I think you’d be surprised by what I can handle.”
Oh, here comes the fun part. “Is that right?”
He nods, leaning into you a little bit from across the table. “I think you’d find a lot about me surprising.”
If the whiff of his Tom Ford Black Orchid catches you off-guard, you don’t show it. Instead, you mirror his body language, propping your chin on your knuckles for good measure. “Like what?”
God, he really wants to kiss you… but it’s way too soon, and he doesn’t know how you feel about public displays of affection. “Like… I’m a pretty decent cook. And I like reading.”
“An athlete who can read? My, my…” you smirk teasingly.
Bradley laughs. He walked right into that one. But he’s not ready to admit defeat yet. Instead, he makes use of that bedroom voice girls like so much to push the point further. “That’s right. I know how to use the washing machine, too.”
You bite your lower lip and sigh, shuddering a little from his low rasp but definitely playing up the dramatics. “You do? Mmh…” 
Jesus. If that’s you faking it, he can’t wait to make you all wet and needy for real. “And you wanna know the best part?”
You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the lustful tension is real. “Yeah?”
He leans in just a little closer, head tilting as if he’s moving in for a kiss. Maybe if he throws it out there… “I can put together Ikea furniture.” 
You throw your head back and feigns a quiet but dramatic moan for your one-man audience. “Oh my gosh, I think I just came in my pants a little.”
Fuck. He really wants to make you come now. With his fingers, his tongue, his cock—
Your gaze drops to his mouth, the stupid 80’s pornstache you’ve never been into before this, the soft inviting lips underneath. The ball is in your court now, and you know he would kiss you earnestly if you close the distance…
But you burst out laughing instead. Bradley releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, although your bright laughter doesn’t deter him from thinking dirty thoughts about you. If anything, it just makes you ten times hotter in his eyes.
“Well played. That was a good one,” Bradley concedes, his face turning just a little bit pink.
“We should probably stop before the staff kicks us out for having too much fun,” you lean back into your seat, looking around the restaurant, making sure no one is listening. Squeezing his hand three times as the next course arrives… not entirely putting the kiss off of the table either.
Bradley recommends the vanilla mille crepe to close the meal, and you come up with the idea of sharing a slice. The dessert arrives, a lush little golden brown thing with thin layers of cream in between, so simple and so intricate at the same time. He lets you take the first bite—insists upon it, actually. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
That, and he wants to watch your face twist in pleasure again. Eyes fluttering closed, chest falling in a sigh, lips parted ever so slightly... God, he can’t wait to be the one responsible for it.
“Amazing, right?” He beams at you, very pleased with himself.
“Mm, it truly is,” you hum in agreement, watching him take a bite. It gives you a naughty idea… “It’s so amazing, I might just hijack this whole thing.” You jokingly pull the plate a little closer to you.
Bradley playfully holds the plate back, looking faux offended. “Hey! Come on. You know I’m a little bit stronger than you, right?”
“Please. That’s never stopped me before.” 
“Really?”
“I have my ways…” your finger reaches out just enough to touch his, just slightly.
Between that and your eyes darkening in mischief, Bradley fights hard not to turn into goo under your slightest touch. He bites the inside of his cheek to contain himself. “You’re really making me earn this, aren’t you?”
“Why? Girls never gave you a hard time before, Mr. Big Time Football Man?”
He laughs. “No. But you’re probably the only one giving me this hard a time for a bite of dessert.”
“Is that all we’re playing for? A bite of dessert?” you smirk, egging him on.
“What else do you think we’re playing for here?” He takes a second bite, maintaining eye contact as he does so.
You take another bite and lick the cream off of your fork. “I don’t know. A bite of… something else?”
Ah. So we are interested. Bradley is unfazed as he gently warns you, “Careful. I might take you up on that.”
“Good. I was hoping you would.”
The tension rises as reality sinks in. You both want to fuck, and looking at the trajectory of the evening, there’s a good chance you will. And it sobers you the hell up, pulling you both straighter in your seats. Sharing the slice of cake in quiet civility. Keeping a completely respectable distance, as if worried you don’t trust yourself not to climb over the table and kiss him senseless. 
But the game… oh, the game is on.
“I don’t know about you, but… I was thinking maybe a few bites, though.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. I intend to explore every part of this… dessert.”
You stop chewing for a moment. There’s something so hot about how he says it so casually. “That’s… very optimistic of you.”
“Not optimistic enough to decide if kissing you out here was a good idea,” he admits sheepishly.
“Why is that?”
Bradley shrugs. “Just a hunch.”
He’s right, of course. He didn’t choose an ultra-exclusive, members-only establishment with a no-phone policy just for kicks. He sees the security detail that follows you around, lurking at a safe distance—from back at the club. And tonight, you’re traveling light with just two bodyguards, each strategically posted near you and the exit, but it’s still more than he’s ever encountered. There’s no way you would risk a first kiss in public, no matter how discreet the place is. No matter how much you like him.
And you like him a whole lot.
“Tell you what…” you put the fork down as quietly as you can. This is the moment of truth. “I’ll let you kiss me all you want back at my hotel, hm?”
Bradley’s eyes light up instantly. He takes a moment, not so much to consider his options, but to process what’s about to happen. “I would like that very much, yes.”
“Alright, then. Shall we?” you smile brightly, flagging the waiter for the check.
“Uh, yeah. Totally. We shall,” he stammers a little, recovering fast enough to snatch the check and slips his credit card in the tab. Barely addressing the waiter as they walk back to the till.
It all happens so fast, and you whine in complaint. “Oh, come on!”
“What, was I supposed to let you pay or something?”
“You were supposed to let me pretend to fight for it, at least…” you huff.
He smiles in amusement. You are so adorable, it makes his heart fucking swell. “Okay. Next time I’ll let you pretend. I’ll even give you a little pushback for good measure, how about that?”
“Perfect.”
“Now, let’s go back to your hotel and… I don’t know, pretend you have to try really hard to resist my charms.”
“Yeah, okay.” You chuckle in agreement. This is really happening. Wow. And just as the excitement sets in, another point of concern pops up in your head, like a really annoying notification. “Did you drive here or…?”
He nods. “You wanna take my car?”
“No, I got a car waiting for me…” you smile apologetically, glancing at her bodyguard. There’s no way they’re gonna let you jump into some guy’s car. “And there’s gonna be paps out front…” Here comes the tricky part. “Would you… mind if we… go separately and meet up at my hotel?”
Oh. Bradley’s face falls a little upon realizing that he can’t just walk out the door with you. He sees how this works. You don’t want the media to jump on this first date, and it’s actually a smart move. Besides, what’s a few more minutes to a whole night of complete privacy? “Sure, no problem.”
You nod tentatively. Well, that was surprisingly easy… “And just to be clear, this has nothing to do with you. It’s just… this whole thing can be a circus, and I don’t want you to deal with anything you didn’t sign up for.”
He smiles at you. Bless you for being so thoughtful, but it does make him wonder if other people have had trouble with it. But maybe that’s a question for another time. “Hey, I totally understand. We’ll just meet up at the hotel and leave it at that.”
“I’ll text you, okay?”
You squeeze his hand gently before you get up, making your way out of the restaurant. Powering through the camera flashes as soon as you walk out of the front door. Giddy because you know something these vultures don’t.
Meanwhile, Bradley sits. Waits. For one minute, and two, and three. Looking at people walking in and out, wondering how inconspicuous he would be if he walks out now.
And then…
His phone buzzes.
205 notes · View notes
Text
Caught
Gibbs x Reader One Shot
Prompt: You’re Gibbs’ wife and an NCIS agent and see your underage son at a bar while out on a sting operation.
Mentions of drinking.
You fixed your earrings in the car mirror and made sure your ear piece was secured.
“Testing audio. Y/L/N, you look absolutely ravishing in that dress. You should wear it more often,” Tony flirted.
“Jethro. Smack him for me please.”
All you heard was the familiar sound of hand meeting head and smiled.
“Alright so we need to make sure he either provides us with the name of his boss or the address where they’re hiding him. Remember, he only agreed to this meeting because he thinks you’re a double agent. Don’t leave the bar with him and if he gets spooked, we’ve got Torres inside already at the bar,” your husband lectured.
“Yes honey. I got it.”
You walked across the parking lot and into the semi crowded club, looking for your mark without seeming obvious. You spotted Nick first, pretending to nurse a drink at the bar and then saw your mark, sitting not far away at a high top table.
You walked over and took a seat across from him.
“Powell?” you asked.
“Yeah. You must be Agent Stanton,” he confirmed.
“So how do you want to do this? You gonna give me the name of your employer? Or I’ll settle for an address of where he’ll be.”
“Slow your role Agent. We’ll get there. First I wanna know a little bit about you. How is it that an NCIS agent with an outstanding background turns on her own?”
Remembering the backstory Abby created for you, you rolled your eyes and recited your lines. “It was a good run for a while. But doesn’t pay nearly as much as gun running.”
He nodded and sat back in his chair, thinking.
“Listen. If you’re not the guy to come to for stuff like this, I can find someone else. You just seemed like someone in charge.”
He scoffed, clearly offended, “Oh I am, and if anyone says anything different they find out the truth real quick.”
“Did Agent Carter find out the truth?”
He squinted his eyes at you in suspicion just as a familiar laugh broke through the silence.
Turning your head, you look over towards the VIP section of the club and can’t believe what you see. Your 17 year old son laughing and drinking with a bunch of older men and women. Had you not been on an important op, you would’ve walked over and dragged him out of there by his ear.
“Before we continue, I need a drink. Would you like one?” You ask, grabbing your purse and trying to contain your anger.
“Another Jack and Coke.”
You nodded and turned to walk toward the bar.
“What are you doing?” Tony asked through the ear piece.
“Jethro. I just spotted our son laughing and drinking with a bunch of people in the VIP section. Do something now before I march over there and blow this whole operation.”
“Torres. Get over there and bring him out here to us. Quietly,” Jethro ordered.
As you reached the bar, Torres left and you ordered 2 whiskey and cokes, genuinely now needing a drink. While walking back over to your table, you saw Torres pulling your son aside out of the corner of your eye.
“Here you go. Now. Where were we?”
————
You stomped over to the surveillance van and threw open the doors, meeting the eyes of your son who already looked like he had been thoroughly chastised.
“Tell me why on God’s green earth were you in that club with a group of people twice your age!”
Tim and Tony were both quiet as your husband stood in the back with his arms crossed. “I wasn’t even drinking mom. My friend invited me and knew the bouncer. I was just having fun.”
“Having fun? You do know that is a place where very dangerous individuals like to hang out don’t you? You could’ve “had fun” in so many different ways than what you did. You put yourself at risk for all different types of dangers, not to mention arrest, had anyone knew you were underage!”
He stayed quiet, not looking you in the eyes and took a deep breath. “Out. Now. You’re riding with me and your father.”
“But Tony said I could-
“Hey now, I didn’t exactly promise anything,” Tony defended himself with his hands up.
“Get. Out. Now.”
Both him and Jethro exited the van and you all walked over to the secondary car with Jethro driving. For about half the ride, it was completely silent until you broke it.
“You are grounded for a month. No games, no computer, and you get the emergency phone only. We expect you home every night at exactly 6pm, any later without a solid excuse and your grounding sentence gets added to. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t yeah your mother. Does she make herself clear?” Jethro said sternly, backing you up.
“Yes, sir.”
You closed your eyes and tried not thinking about all the ways the night could’ve gone wrong. Jethro must of sensed your anxiety because you felt his hand rest on your thigh and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“We’re not trying to be mean S/N. We just want you to really understand the dangers in what you did and that it can’t go unpunished. We love you.”
“I know. Love you guys too,” he answered, softly, making you tear up.
“Now we’re gonna go home, you’re going to give us all your electronics and then help your father down in the basement.”
There was an obvious groan from him and you both smiled. Putting your hand on top of Jethros, you lock eyes with him and he gives you his famous smirk.
195 notes · View notes
zvaigzdelasas · 10 months
Text
He also said there needs to be a “new law” to address communists and Marxists who grew up in America, but didn’t elaborate on what it would include.
27 Jun 23
397 notes · View notes
whorekneecentral · 5 months
Text
The Smell Of The Holidays
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader
Warnings: friendly neighbourly chats, sweet moments with kos and his puppies, a heartfelt thank you, a little crush from kos's end, some tattoo exploring, sexual tension, it's giving sub!kostas for a minute there, thigh riding - it's more dry humping than thigh riding but I digress, oral (f!receiving), 0.2 seconds of fingering, finger sucking, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.
Word Count: 3,565
Author's Note: I think this is my favourite and the longest fic so far. dedicated to the president of the kostas fan club, miss ivy @curiousthyme <333
merry smutmas series
--
You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.
Your brother was a single father, he’s a busy guy that he works long hours and you help out with your niece in whatever way you can. Your brother can’t bake to save his life so when she comes home saying she needs treats for the bake sale, he calls you.
You were baking treats for her holiday bake sale; cupcakes, cookies, brownies, lemon bars - you name it, you baked it.
The bake sale was for the whole school, they were raising money for a charity who helped underfund kids, or something along the lines. With your niece's missing tooth, she didn't annunciate the best.
You have been baking all day and it wasn't until you turned around to set the final tray of cookies down that you realized you had run out of counter, dining room, coffee table and couch space. The cooled and frosted cookies, brownies and cupcakes were sitting on the couches in their trays, the ones that were needing to be frosted were on the tables and you had the hot pans on your counters.
Carefully, you shifted a few things around to set the hot pan down, leaving it to cool.
Your hands on your hips, you looked around; you've baked yourself into a conundrum.
It wasn't until you heard the barking next door that you realized what you could do with all of the extra treats that you were baked. You finished frosting the last of what needed to be frosted before packing them away neatly into their trays and loading them into your car.
You went back inside and picked up a small tray that you had set aside specifically for your next door neighbour, Kostas.
He was kind and sweet and kept to himself most of the time. He had two puppies, who weren't really puppies but you addressed them as such; Maui and Fuerte. Kostas wasn't home much as he was very busy with his job but every now and then you'll see him in his backyard with his dogs, training or swimming laps or whatever it is that he does out there.
It's a neighbourly hello and a few tummy rubs for the puppies before you head out and go about your day.
You balance the tray with one arm, setting the majority of its weight against your jutted out hip. You knock on the door and wait for someone to answer. There's some barking before the door opens, you can hear Kostas shooing the puppies away to stop them from coming out.
Behind him, you can see into the living room; a massive tree stood tall in the centre by the window, ornaments hung plentiful along the green branches. There's a few other Christmas-related things around the entryway.
"Hey!" He smiles, black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a white vest that clung to his chest in all the right places; you scolded yourself for gawking at him. "Y/n, right?" He points to you with his finger.
"Yeah," you smiled at him, "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Not at all," he shakes his head, shifting to stop the dog you know as Maui from coming outside. She poked her head between his legs, looking up at you curiously. "What's up?" He asks, watching as you look lovingly at his puppy.
"My niece is having a bake sale at school and asked me to bake some treats for her and the thing is, I went a little overboard." You laughed. "I realized I made too much, and I figured I would do the neighbourly thing and bring some over for you."
"Oh," he smiles at you, taking the tray that was heavier than it looked from you. "Thank you very much, I was wondering if someone opened a bakery around here. I've been smelling it since this morning."
A soft laugh slipped past your lips as you shrugged. "It got hot with the oven running so I opened the window."
Kostas nods, shifting his leg a bit as Maui tries to wiggle her head away from his legs. You smiled at the dog, peeking over Kostas's left shoulder to see her tugging on a toy with Fuerte.
"The ones with the frosting on it aren't puppy friendly but I put some in there that don't have frosting so you could share with them. There's also a few brownies and other things, I wasn't sure what you like, so I tried to put a mix of everything."
Kostas nods, thinking to himself that it was very sweet of you to consider his puppies when packing the tray. "Was that intentional? You know, catering to the puppies ?"
"Yes but also no. I did intentionally not put frosting on some of them for the pups, but you know kids and their allergies, all the ingredients are safe for the puppies. I made sure to double check."
"Thank you, y/n. I really appreciate it - we're gonna be eating these for the rest of the week." He says, glancing down at the tray. "Would you like to come in?" He steps to the side a bit, and as much as you want to say yes, you don't.
"Unfortunately, I have to get treats over to my brother's house so perhaps another time?" You looked at him, hoping for a yes to your rain check.
"Definitely," he nods. "Thank you again."
"Anytime!" You skipped down the pathway, giggling like a teenager with a crush. Kostas watched from his front door, smiling at you. "Have a good day, y/n!" He calls after you.
"You too, Kos!"
The nickname was something he heard often, mostly from his teammates, but it was the way you said it that made him blush and almost giggled like a school boy with a crush.
Kostas shut the front door and set the tray on his dining room table. As he takes the tinfoil off the top, all he can think about is what he can do to find himself in your presence yet again.
---
A few have gone by since you dropped in at Kostas's place and you had only seen him in passing since then.
You had successfully dropped off the treats for your niece and she called you to let you know that they were a hit. You had gone about your week as normal, tidying up and getting your place ready for the holiday season.
There was a knock on your door, you're a bit confused seeing that you weren't expecting anything or anyone, but you wiped your hands on the side of your shorts and found your way to the front door.
Much to your surprise, it was Kostas at the door; a pleasant surprise that is.
There's a rectangular box in his hand and an envelope on top. One hand on the bottom, and one hand on top to keep them in place as he smiles at you. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, of course." You nod, stepping aside to let the man in. "I'm sorry about the mess, I was in the middle of tidying up."
Kostas nods as he glances around, trying to spot what mess you were talking about. The entire house looked as if it had been staged, not a single thing out of place.
And you have carefully thought out where to place your Christmas decorations, and Kostas noticed that. Your tree sitting in your living room in a spot that commanded attention, garlands wrapped around all of the railings and ornaments hung on all of the branches. All topped off with a pretty red and green wreath on your front door.
"Where are the babies?" You asked him, shutting the front door as he took his shoes off. "Groomers, sent them to get their holiday clean up. I can't stay long, I just wanted to drop this off." He smiles, following you to the kitchen.
Kostas sets the box on the table, handing the envelope over to you.
"For me?" You asked, taking it hesitantly. "I hope this isn't payment for the stuff I dropped off, because if it is-" "No," he shook his head with a smile, "just a thank you."
You carefully open the envelope, taking a sheet of paper out of it, and unfolding it. There's a few flowers painted across the piece of paper, it was clear that he used the puppies' paws to make the petals of the flowers. Some scrawled handwriting which you assumed belonged to Kostas was in the middle of the page; thank you miss y/n.
"Tell Maui and Fuerte I love their picture," you smiled at him, sticking the page on your fridge with a magnet.
Kostas smiles, watching you. "I'll let them know they made it onto the fridge as well." He joked, watching as you straightened the paper and stuck another magnet on there to keep it up.
You walk over to the table, standing in front of Kostas who's now made himself comfortable in your space. "What's this?"
"A thank you from me, I'm not as artistically skilled as my puppies."
You smiled, opening the box to find a chocolate cake. The brown frosting covered the majority of it, there are a few green and red decorations around the border, resembling mistletoe.
"You didn't have to do all this," you tell him, walking over to get a knife and two plates, as well as forks.
"It's the least I could do." He watches as you cut into the cake, handing a piece over to him. "I took some of the treats into work, the boys say I should've given you more than just a cake." He chuckles, taking a bite as you shut the box.
You nod towards the couch, and Kostas picks up his slice of cake following you, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. The now empty plates sat on the coffee table as you rambled on about something your niece had told you about the bake sale.
Kostas listened intently, but his eyes wandered. Your shorts and hiked up a bit when you dropped yourself on the couch. You noticed his staring, not mentioning anything but you knew he wasn't fully listening. You pull the hem of your shorts, fixing it back to its original length. Kostas noticed and glanced up at you, his cheeks flustered and red.
"Sorry," he whispers, blushing like a school boy with a crush.
"I don't mind," you whisper.
Kostas hums, his eyes wandering over your legs yet again. He can't help but notice the colourful ink peeking out from under the hem of your shorts. "You have tattoos?"
"A tattoo," you correct him, pulling the hem of your shorts up and over your hip.
Kostas's eyes follow the design from the top of your thigh to just over your hip bone. There's a vine with a trail of flowers scattered along it; roses, lilies, daisies, wild flowers, any and everything in between. There's a lot of intricate details, the lines carefully placed to make it look cohesive and the colours of the flowers complimenting each other.
He hums in appreciation, stopping himself from reaching out to touch it. "It's beautiful." He smiles, glancing up at you. "Is it the only one you have?"
You nodded, laughing. "I was 19.. and drunk."
"You went big for your first time," his eyes meet yours and you can't help but feel that his words have a double meaning.
You shrugged, slouching back in your seat. Your leg crossed over the other and your shorts hiked up a bit more, showing off a few inches of your skin that Kostas was begging to put his hands on.
"Most people say you get addicted, but I just did the one and done."
He hums, gesturing to his arms that were covered in various designs and words. "Case in point."
"Just your arms or you've got more?"
Kostas nods, "my left leg and my ribs, and behind my neck." He lifted his shirt a bit to show you the tattoo on the left side of his ribs - an intricate portrait of what looked to be Adam and God.
Hesitantly, your fingers reached out and traced the shape of the tattoo. Kostas's eyes trailed from your face down to your hand and to your fingers, watching as you carefully outlined the ink along his skin.
"Beautiful," you mumbled and Kostas's cheeks flushed red, watching as you slowly moved your hand away.
He knew you were talking about the tattoo and yet he blushed, as if you had called him beautiful - but in a way, you did. And you meant it.
"Maybe I'll get another one, something small." You tell him and Kostas nods, offering to take you to his guy. Always the first one to offer up help and advice, he can hear Thiago's words in his head.
You look down at his leg, he was in shorts despite the cold winter air that nipped at you any time you opened the door - he had run over from his place after dropping the puppies off. You can see the lower half of his leg, the delicate shading and line work made up a stunning tattoo along his leg, the ink on his thigh peeked out from under the hem of his shorts.
"What's under there?" You nod and Kos's brows furrowed, looking at you for an explanation. "Under where?" He asks, making you giggle. It took him a second to realize why you were giggling but then he too, began to laugh.
You shook your head, "I meant your thigh, what's on your thigh?"
Kostas lets out a sound of understanding, shifting to pull the leg of his shorts up so you could see the tattoo. There's a massive portrait of a lion roaring, it didn't seem like Kostas's taste in tattoos but at the same time, it fit him to a T.
He nervously bites at his bottom lip as your hand rests on his knee, carefully slides up to his thigh. "Is this okay?" You whispered, glancing at him. Kostas nods, not sure if he remembers how to speak or even breathe - it feels as if you had taken all the air out of his body.
Your hand slips further up, leaning into the man in front of you. Kostas glances at your lips, your eyes and back to your lips. He sees your tongue wet your bottom lip, pressing them together.
Just as you were about to speak, Kostas beat you to it; "can I kiss you?"
You smile, "I thought you'd never ask."
His hand reaches for your jaw, holding it gently as if you'd break. Kostas brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling at you sweetly before closing the gap between the two of you.
It was something out of a movie, you had never felt this way about anyone before. It just made sense; you fit against him as if you were meant to be there all along.
Kostas must have had the same thought, pulling you over and onto his lap, letting you straddle him. His hand slips down your side, resting on your hip. "You're so beautiful."
You can't help the blush on your cheek, you lean down to kiss him once again. You can feel his shorts rubbing along your inner thighs as he pulls you to him, trying to have you as close to him as possible. A hand on his shoulder, rolling your hips slightly to test the waters.
He seems to have gotten the idea; lifting his leg to give you more leverage. Your thighs are slotting either side of his, Kostas's hand rests on your hip, lazily brushing his thumb over your hip bone. He watches closely, listening to every little sound that slips past your lips.
"Kos," you mumbles, and the man perks up. "What is it, love?"
"Want you."
The words barely leave your lips and you're being flipped over, flat on your back before he pulls you by your legs, re-situating you to his liking.
Kostas is careful, pulling your shorts and panties off - they're tossed somewhere behind you. It's an issue for later. He kisses up from your calf, letting your legs rest over his shoulders. He's gentle, calculated - as if he knew exactly what to do, as if he had done it before.
Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully against his face but Kostas's hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down. He glances up at you, a wicked smile on his face. "Is this okay?" He whispers into your skin, moving closer to exactly where you wanted him.
You nod, "please." The word comes out a bit more desperate sounding than you'd like but you could care less. You needed him - in every single way.
His hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit. 
Your body juts forwards - not only from the pulling but from the feeling of his tongue on you. Reaching forward, your manicured fingers tangle in his hair.
Kos' tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face. 
He didn’t care. 
He loved it. 
A soft groan leaves his lips when you tug on his hair, trying to move him a certain way. “That- oh!” Your chest heaves, tugging on his hair to get him to do that again. 
His grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble scratching along the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, pulling you closer as his nose brushed against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt.
Kostas glances up, his tongue on your clit and he can’t help but admire the view above him. Your chest heaving, tits spilling out over the black lace over your chest, your head tossed back and eyes fluttering closed as his name falls from your lips like a prayer.
He lets you pull him closer, his nose brushing your clit, replacing his tongue as he moves it elsewhere, his fingers pushing into you slowly. He sits up a bit, fingers curling and pumping in you, your eyes still closed.
His free hand reaches up to hold your jaw, pulling your focus to him. “You’re perfect, did you know that?” He asks and you can barely focus enough to grasp the words he was saying, let alone give him an answer.
“Need you,” you mumble.
“What do you need?” He asks.
“Need you.” You say once more.
He hums, he knows he’s not gonna get much more of an answer from you, he just had to give you what you wanted and Kostas knew exactly what you wanted.
You whimper at the loss of his fingers but passes his fingers over your lips, letting you suck on them for a moment as he shuffles his pants down.
Both of you let out a satisfied sigh when he pushes onto you, your leg pulled up onto his hip and he leans over you. His lips brushes against yours,
Kostas's cock twitches when you clench around him, “oh fuck,” he breathes, forehead against yours. “This pussy was made just for me, hm? Take me so well, my pretty girl.”
He pushes the straps off your shoulders, tits spilling out over the top of the bra. He glances down, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and he leans down to kiss you once more, leaving a trial of marks and sloppy kisses until he reaches your tits.
There’s a faint purple mark between your tits; his new favourite spot.
“You're so pretty like this,” he says, your hips buck, wanting more from him. He can feel you clench around his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum, darling.”
“Kos.. please.” You breathe, and he gives in, he can’t help himself; you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. “Want you to fuck me full,” you whisper to him. He shuffles a bit, pulling both of your legs over his shoulders.
The change in position does it; his thrusts sloppy, signalling that he too was close. You feel Kostas cum, your legs dropping off his shoulders as you do.
He's still buried in you when he drops down onto you, landing with an oof. You let out a giggle, your hand passing through his messy hair as he peppers kisses along your shoulder.
The two of you lay there for a while, basking in each other's company and the silence. It hits you; "Kos?"
"Yeah?"
"Aren't you supposed to go get the puppies?"
"Oh crap!" He's pulling himself up, hurrying to get dressed. You take that as your cue to get redressed as well. You figured you'd see him again at some point, not expecting him to grab your hand. "Do you wanna come with me?" He asks, walking with you to the front door.
"Isn't it too early to introduce me to the kids?" You joked, already grabbing your hoodie.
Kostas smiles, "they love you, and.."
"Yeah, same." You smile, the words left unsaid for another time.
---
taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22
197 notes · View notes
betaorionis-fr · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
I spent a good amount of hours working on this trip/advisor mimicking dragon bio template. link to my f2u asset thread, there's an auto-coding google sheet linked from there.
detailed image description under the cut.
[image: a screenshot or part of a dragon bio made to mimic a website. the header reads from left to right Tripadvisory, "Where to?" in brackets to resemble a search bar, Discover, Trips, Review, gem emoji, Gems, Sign in in square brackets. the line below reads Singers Cliff, Hotels (underlined and bolded), Things to Do, Restaurants, Flight routes, Travel stories, and then a kebab menu (three dots spanning a horizontal line). the next line, between two divs, reads: Windswept Plateau > Singer's Brook > Singer's Cliff. beneath that, in large bold text is the title "The Windflower Inn" - flush to the right on the same line is an @ symbol and a heart symbol. below the title are three more lines of text. the first begins with four green star symbols and a green dot then it sats 10 reviews | #1 of 8 small inns in Singer's Cliff. line 2 is an address, and line 3 is a speech bubble emoji and the text: Write a review. right aligned text reads (check availability). at the bottom of the screenshot are four images, a large one to the left, and three smaller ones to the right. the first, large, image is of a winding dirt and stone path leading through a garden to a cottage; the topmost small image shows a warmly lit tavern table with a plate of bread; the middle small image shows part of a bookshelf, and the lowermost small image shows a blue rug with a fancy light blue design on it. /end id.]
143 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): foul language, suggestive themes, brief non-consensual grab (non-graphic)
Word Count: 5.2k
A/N: Part One of Ink & Needle
Inside the club Riot Room, you meet a masked stranger.
Chapter Two
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist
The puddle in the caved pavement ripples as a raindrop shatters its silent surface. Small, but growing larger and wider until the water is still again. Another raindrop falls from the sky and the process is repeated.
A beginning. An end. A beginning. An end. A—
Fresh start.
New roots.
The brick that starts the riot.
All things have a beginning. This moment is no different, because it feels like the start of something, and for so many fucking reasons.
And it’s not just the water. It isn’t only the water. There is a neon sign, and its reflection is in that tiny pool. A bright pink that is at odds with the old London architecture surrounding it. Maybe the color is melting, or maybe it’s your imagination, and your brain has finally kicked off and this is its farewell salute.
Why, when you are here for someone else’s beginning, does it really feel like yours? It’s not sour or sweet or foul or sticky but heavy as if your boots are filled with liquid cement.
This is supposed to be Evie’s night. This is her bar crawl. This is her marriage. This is her bachelorette party. But now you’re at the last place of the evening, and everything is suddenly barring down like an avalanche.
Riot Room blares the pink neon sign. It’s loud, and the very edges of your consciousness ache from how bright it is. You’re not even standing that close.
Below the sign is an archway with an open gate. A tall man in all-black stands off to the side of it checking IDs and handing out wristbands. From the open gate comes a pounding, shredding beat that you’re not sure is heavy metal, electronic, or a combination of the two.
Riot Room is completely different from the other places you’ve visited tonight. The four places before this were all quaint pubs with odd names and a nostalgic sense of comfort. Riot Room is a club. There is nothing quaint or nostalgic about it.
Two scantily clad women in black leather wearing large coats trot by, their heads bent close as they talk to each other. Their lips are painted a dark purple that resembles bruising as if they’ve been kissed roughly.
To your right, Sam’s gaze drops to span the length of one of the women. She looks on in appreciation, her pink-painted lips pursing with interest. Her dark skin is speckled with gold dust and her tight curls are bundled up on the top of her head in two big buns.
Sam’s gaze draws away from the woman’s bare legs. Her gaze falls on you, and you grin widely, knowing she’s been caught. The corner of her mouth quirks with a hint of smile.
She leans in until your shoulders touch. “It’s not like you weren’t looking.”
You lean in a bit more until your noses are close to brushing. “But I wasn’t the one who got caught.”
Sam laughs and pulls away, the sound of it bright and airy. She waves her hand as if trying to ward off evil.
Once she’s caught her breath, Sam leans around you, addressing the two women standing to your left. “Ready, ladies?”
Jade tilts her head, her blue ponytail shifting to fall over her right shoulder. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Did you pick this place, Sam? Seems like a ‘you’ kind of place.”
Sam nods toward Evie with one of her buns. “The bride-to-be agreed to this.”
You and Jade turn in unison. Evie shrugs. “I did.”
Jade snorts and holds out an outstretched hand toward the club. “You hate these kinds of places.”
“Oh my god,” mutters Sam throwing her arms up in the air, her gold bangles clacking against each other.
Evie laughs softly, and the sound is sweet enough to rot your teeth. That’s the thing about Evelyn Green. She is the nicest, most kind-hearted, selfless person you’ll ever meet. Rarely does this woman do anything for herself, and putting this evening together for her was a struggle. Not because she’s difficult, but because she wanted tonight to be about everyone, not just herself.
Evie’s button-nose scrunches slightly. “I told Sam I wanted to come. When am I ever going to go to a place like this after I marry Archie?”
Jade’s lips form into a thin line and she shakes her head. “Archie is the most un-pretentious rich boy I’ve ever met in my life. He’d love you even if you were a plastic bag. And he hates all those events the two of you go to anyway.”
“Yes,” agrees Evie. “But he’s required to go, and once we’re married, I will have to attend as well.” Her face falls slightly, and it’s understandable.
Evie’s fiancée comes from wealth—the old money kind. Archie’s great grandfather is of British nobility, and while Archie isn’t titled, that doesn’t really seem to matter. He is well-educated, and many of his closest friends and colleagues all run in the same circles.
Evie is not from that life. She grew up a poor coal miner’s daughter in southern Missouri. She managed to scrounge up enough money to move to Columbia to attend Mizzou and met Archie during an exchange program. She was in a park, and Archie was playing soccer with friends. Knocked her in the side of the head with the ball. Archie sat with her in the ambulance and the two went on a date the next day.
They’re in love, and it’s a gorgeous, beautiful thing. But not all of Archie’s family is supportive of their marriage. Many look down on her for her background. Evie acts like it doesn’t bother her, but you know different. Those events they attend together cut deep, tear into her until there is nothing left but her forced smile.
Jade sighs loudly and then turns toward Sam, pointing at her. “If I find out you forced her—”
Sam groans and then grabs Jade’s outstretched forearm, tucking Jade against her side as the two of them walk arm-in-arm towards the club. “Oh shove it, Jade,” mutters Sam.
Evie giggles and holds out her hand to you, wiggling her fingers. Grinning, you entwine your fingers with Evie’s and follow the bickering duo.
They argue all the way to the door. IDs are checked. Wristbands are handed out. A cover is paid. And then you’re walking through the gate, under the archway, and into an open courtyard.
That heaviness returns, and your boots feel like lead. Something about this place is different from the rest, and you cannot put a finger on what you’re sensing. It’s a change in the direction of the wind. It’s a falling autumn leaf. There is a shift happening, and you’re not aware of where it might come from.
The night sky is directly above your head, and you can see every star in the sky. To your immediate right—just inside the gate—is a coat check. Next to it is a stage where a man in a Jason Voorhees mask stands behind a DJ booth. He is shirtless, well-muscled, and covered in fake blood. Though both feet are on the ground, the rest of his body shakes and writhes with the intensity of the music. The bass is the loudest aspect, rattling around in your body until you start to feel dizzy.
On stage with DJ Voorhees are several other masked men. They too wear hockey masks, but they are all painted a different color. They don’t wear shirts either and they jump around on the stage, pushing and shoving each other, occasionally dropping down into the crowd to do the same before running to the stage.
The crowd is thick but mostly near the front of the stage. Beyond them on the far side of the courtyard is the bar. It’s long, spanning nearly the entire wall, with several bartenders and barbacks working along it. Next to the bar near the stage is a set of stairs that leads up into a building. People enter and exit through the door. There are windows but they’re entirely blacked out and you have no idea what might be back there.
You scan the length of the bar and find another set of stairs on the other end. This one descends and next to it is another gate—this one much smaller than the entrance—guarded by security. The back wall of the courtyard—the one facing the stage—is lined with people, but there is walking space between them and the crowd near the stage.
Evie’s smile widens, and you suddenly don’t care anymore. This is for her, even if you feel uneasy. Her happiness is the most important thing right now.
“I’m grabbing us drinks,” yells Sam over the music. She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder before she heads that way.
Evie steps a bit closer to you. She’s nervous but eager as she squeezes your hand.
One of the masked men jumps off the stage and into the crowd. They all yell and then he pops up, throwing himself in people’s faces. You instinctually step forward to block Evie as he darts around a club-goer and appears directly in front of you.
“Fuck off,” you yell when he pushes himself into your face. All you see is the purple-painted hockey mask and he won’t fucking move. He just stands there like an ill omen that won’t allow you to look away.
You’re about to speak, your lips and tongue forming the shape of what you want to say. Then, he disappears, as if knowing your intention.
Jade snags your upper arm and leans in, her gaze fixed on the point the guy slipped away to. “I’ll stay with Evie. Go check on Sam. Make sure she isn’t just buying us tequila shots.”
Evie reluctantly gives up your hand as you navigate the congested dancefloor. You have to twist your upper body to avoid collisions. Just through the crowd, you can just make out Sam’s buns. A man steps into your path. He isn’t looking—likely too drunk to even notice that you’re right behind him—and you step out of the way to avoid is wayward swagger.
But there are too many goddamn people, and you can’t avoid them all. Instead of him, you bump into someone else.
“Shit. Sorry. I—” You glance up. “Oh fuck.”
A wraith stands before you, all cold shadow and violent foreboding. Dark eyes surrounded by pale eyelashes observe you from behind a black balaclava. Around the mouth are skeleton teeth but they’re a tad faded which only adds to the ominous presence of this strange man. He is tall, and you have to bend your neck to see directly into his face, and that doesn’t even take into account how broad his shoulders are.
Space is non-existent. The only thing you understand about your surroundings is him. This man is a being out of hell, a creature of fire and blood, and yet you’re drawn to him. You are a pale moth, a gentle creature, and he is the pyre in which you will burn.
He takes hold of your upper arm, and his grip is strong. His strength is both a threat and a comfort. He could snap you in two, but it’s placement and how firmly he holds on to you tells you otherwise. This man is dangerous, and yet through the hardness is a softness in the brow that you recognize as concern. His dark eyes narrow, and as he pulls you closer to him, he leans in before his gaze moves to a stop over your right shoulder.
“You okay?”
It isn’t the wraith gripping your upper arm who’s addressing you. You glance over your left shoulder and meet a softer expression. Black hair cut short, tanned skin, and kind eyes. This man is completely different from the one that still holds onto your arm.
“Fine,” you murmur but realize he can’t hear you over the music. “I’m fine.” This time you project, and he nods.
“Gaz!” He turns away, and a different man holds out a plastic cup full of beer to him.
Gaz takes it and then this newcomer turns in your direction. You want to leave, to walk away, but that’s difficult when your upper arm is still in a vice grip. You shake it, trying to throw the stranger’s grasp, and make no ground. His hand stays put.
“Who’s this?” asks the newcomer, and you recognize the accent as a Scottish one.
“Some wanker ran into her. Knocked her right into Ghost.”
“Fucking hell. You good, Lt?”
Ghost doesn’t say anything, or if he does, you don’t hear him over the music. Shaking your arm again, you attempt to free yourself for a second time. Ghost still doesn’t let go. Instead, he tugs you a little closer until you feel his body heat.
You hate being told what to do, and you especially hate men who cannot take a fucking hint. You try again, ready to smack the balaclava right off Ghost’s face if he doesn’t release you. But he does, and his grip is gone so suddenly that you nearly topple backward.
Acting bolder than you feel, you give Ghost your best scowl before turning toward Gaz, your mouth forming into a smile. “Thank you,” you say, excusing yourself quickly and heading toward the bar.
“What kind of a name is Ghost?” you mutter to yourself just as Sam turns around from the bar. She cradles six drinks in her arms like a newborn baby.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You reach for them, grabbing one before it tips over to spill across the floor.
“Jade sent you, didn’t she?” laughs Sam, handing you another plastic cup. “Can’t trust me after that tequila incident.”
“No comment,” you answer, making sure the drinks you’re holding are secure and won’t slip out of your grasp.
When you return to Jade and Evie, the two women have their arms wrapped around each other, swaying in a little circle, giggling hysterically. The moment you and Sam appear, Evie is pulling away from Jade, reaching for the gin and tonic you hold out to her. When the drinks are distributed, Sam and Jade have one in each hand while you and Evie only hold one.
Before this, the four of you visited four different pubs, and had plenty of drinks at each establishment. While it’s nearing the end of the night, there isn’t any reason for you to go overboard. Slowing down might be best, especially if Sam and Jade are going to double-fist drinks the rest of the night. Tomorrow—technically today at this hour—is supposed to be a spa day with some of the women from Archie’s family. Hungover is the last think you want to be while dealing with them.
As your lips suction around the head of the straw, you feel a pull, a tug toward the back wall of the courtyard. You resist the urge, refuse to look because you know who you’ll find. Instead, you suck on the straw, focus on the bite of the gin, sway your hips until the pounding beat is all you know in your veins.
But the pull won’t release. It won’t slacken. And the more and more you resist, the more it aches to not look, because no matter how startling his appearance is, it intrigues you, makes you think about how long it’s been and how you wish to be touched.
Would he keep the balaclava on? Would he take it off? And why does that intrigue you?
You start to turn, to surrender to the tug, and then snap back to reality, nearly knocking into Jade as you force yourself away from looking. The drink in your plastic cup sloshes harshly against the side but doesn’t spill over.
Evie leans in, her lips close to your ear, and she nods in the direction of the tug. “That guy won’t stop staring at you.”
“Who?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly who Evie is referring to.
“Mystery masked man.” Evie grins, her straw caught between her upper and lower teeth.
This time you look. There he is. Ghost, as his friends called him. He leans against the wall, the same small group of people surrounding him from earlier. They’re all talking, but Ghost is staring in your direction, and his gaze is locked in on you.
You quickly glance away and shrug even as a dull heat warms your limbs. “Looks like trouble.”
“Looks like a good time if you ask me.”
“Evie,” you gasp, bumping her shoulder.
“What?” she laughs, sucking up the last bit of her drink.
Jade goes up on her toes, her head swiveling back and forth. “Who are we looking at?”
Sam catches on and twists, glancing in the same direction. She’s successful first. “Oh my god.” Sam leans in until her cheek is pressed against your own. “That man is staring at you.”
“I know!” You pull back a bit, but Sam doesn’t let you go far.
She bumps your shoulder. “Go talk to him.”
“And say what?”
“Hello. Have anyone waiting on you? No? Great. Let’s get out of here. You can even keep the mask on.”
You roll your eyes. “No. I’m not doing that.” You reach out and snag Evie’s arm. “And it’s her night. Why would I leave y’all for a hook-up?”
Sam finishes one of her drinks. She removes the straw and pops it into the other cup, doubling it up by putting the full plastic cup into the empty one. “Listen, if you won’t. I will. The guy next to him with the dark hair is an absolute snack. Even the older guy with the weird mustache is making my daddy issues purr.”
Jade’s eyes widen slightly. She nods enthusiastically. “Oh he is quite nice.”
“Right? Girl. I could take him and not in a fight.”
“Fine!” you exclaim. “I’ll go talk to him.” You turn toward Evie. “If you’re okay with it?”
Evie grins around her straw. You know what it means. Evie wants you to go because she wants to see everyone happy, but you wouldn’t call yourself excited. That heavy feeling is back, the one that feels like a new beginning.
The issue is that fresh starts are a cleansing. They are often a renewal. You think of cold water, of a slate wiped clean, but there are other markers for such things. Fire destroys but it also creates the opportunity for new life. Controlled burnings are a thing, and this man—this Ghost—can only be fire.
“I need a refill anyway,” you mutter, turning toward the bar, some of your confidence slipping.
You take a deep breath, the alcohol in your blood singing, giving you a feeling of lightness that makes your feet move of their own accord even as they want to drag. It is confounding. You don’t know what you want.
Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, moving ever closer to your wraith. He watches you the entire time. As you draw nearer, and your gazes lock, he straightens. Ghost pushes off from the wall like he’s expecting you to come to him. You notice the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his right hand clenches and unclenches in anticipation.
The gesture is so surprising, you lose all your nerve, walking right past him and to the bar. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s watching. His gaze is a drill, and you sense the bite of it at your back. Your palms are sweaty, and you discard your empty drink in the nearest trash bin.
You order another gin and tonic, handing over a crumpled pound note to the bartender. As you turn around, you notice that Ghost is gone. He isn’t leaning against the wall or even lingering with his friends. They’re still there, chatting away, but Ghost is missing.
Your heartrate kicks up and it’s suddenly so loud you don’t hear the thunderous pulsing beat of the music. It’s like you’re standing in a dark train tunnel, and everything is narrowing down to a single point. The crowd near the bar has grown in the last few minutes. People walk up and down the stairs next to the bar, and now that you’re actually focused on the building, you can some of the interior lights.
Evie, Sam, and Jade are out of sight, but you know they’re probably rolling their eyes, ready to question you about why you didn’t approach him. Better to accept your defeat and move on. Yes, there is a tug, a tether attached to this stranger that you cannot seem to shed, but you don’t know this person. There is no harm in not pushing this further, in moving on, and pretending you never met him in the first place.
“Whatever,” you mutter to yourself, as the roar of the music comes rushing back.
As you squeeze between two people, one of the mask-wearing men from the stage appears from nowhere. It’s the same guy from earlier. The one with the purple hockey mask who threw himself at you and Evie. You step back and bump into someone. That momentum only pushes you closer to him.
Purple-mask cages you in, lunges repeatedly like he’s going to grab you or hit you. It’s intimidating. Awful. You want to tell him to leave you alone, but the music is so loud you’d have to scream.
You step to the left to try and move around him, but he only puts himself back in your path. This time, you form the shape of a bite, ready to sting with your words, but all conscious thought leaves you the moment his hand makes contact.
He does touch. And it is not gentle.
He tugs on your jacket, then your top, then your jacket again. You bat is hand away, try to move out of range, but he is so much faster. His arm goes around you, and then he drags you in like you asked to dance.
“Let go!” You yank your arm free, but the guy still holds firm, guiding you deeper into the crowd.
Everything is hot. Tight. Overwhelming. Stealing all breath.
You pull again. “Let go!”
This time he does. This time, he disappears.
Ghost looms like a dark shadow, his hand around the guy’s neck. His palm is large to the point that Ghost’s hand easily encases the man’s throat.
“Touching a woman without her consent isn’t polite. In fact, I’ve killed men over less. How about you apologize to her, yeah?”
It’s the first time you’ve heard Ghost speak. Even over the music, you easily hear the rough, gruff timbre of his voice. It’s harsh like liquor and yet entirely smooth when it washes over your body and floods your senses.
Ghost drops the guy and he immediately bolts, darting through the crowd and pushing people out of his way. Ghost does not run after him.
Instead, he turns toward you and lowers himself enough to get close. All you see are his eyes which at first seemed dark, but now look like how light shines through a whiskey bottle.
“Did he hurt you?” The concern in his voice is genuine, and somehow that pleases you. There is a small trace of anger, but it’s fleeting, and not worthy of attention. Ghost isn’t worried about your purple-masked assailant. He’s worried about you.
You shake your head. “No.” Lick your lips. Breathe deep. “No. I’m fine.”
His pale eyelashes look like little halos. Is the hair on his head the same? Is it darker?
“You sure?” he asks, this time starting to straighten a bit.
“Yes. I just—I need some air.”
Ghost nods. “Come with me.” His hand gently rests against your elbow, and you accept it. This touch is not a threat, and you surrender to him, allowing him to lead you away from the crowd. They part easily as if on instinct. Maybe Ghost is truly that intimidating.
Ghost leads you to the far edge of the bar near the secondary set of stairs. He does not escort you down the stairs but to the other archway you noticed earlier. The security guard nods at the two of you and then you step down onto damp pavement in a little alleyway.
Your rescuer immediately pulls out a pack of smokes from the inside of his leather jacket. He selects one and then holds the pack out to you. You reach for one. It’s a reflex. You tend to smoke when you drink because it prevents you from drinking more than you need, but sometimes all you do is chain smoke and then you can’t talk the next day. It’s a terrible habit but one you haven’t been able to kick.
“Thank you,” you murmur once your cigarette is lit. He simply nods and pushes up his balaclava to suck on his own.
You try not to stare but you catch the faint hint of a long scar along the edge of his jaw. Beneath that, his entire neck is a solid black tattoo. You’ve seen them before, where people blackout parts of their body in ink. His stretches across the muscles in his neck, and when he inhales, you take note of every ripple of muscle. The strength there is astounding.
Glancing away quickly, pretending you weren’t admiring him, you clear your throat. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Ghost cannot be his name. There’s no way.
He exhales, the smoke drifting up into the air. “That important to you?”
“Yes.”
He stares at you for a moment. “Ghost.”
Fuck. Why’d you think he’d say anything different from a man wearing a balaclava out in public. It’s not his real name. That’s obvious, but you’re not sure if you want to push the matter. Yet it does make you wonder why he didn’t give you his real name.
You decide not to push it, giving him your name instead. As he exhales, the smoke fans upward to crown his head like a pair of horns before twisting off into the night sky.
“Why’d you scowl at me?” he asks, ashing his cigarette.
You run your tongue over your front teeth before speaking the lie. “I didn’t scowl.”
“But you were angry,” says Ghost, pointing his cigarette in your direction before he takes a drag.
“You wouldn’t let me go,” you counter, growing annoyed with this line of questioning.
“Someone knocked you down. You didn’t speak or look at me. And I’m the one you ran into. I was concerned.”
“For a complete stranger?”
“I’m a compassionate person.”
You sigh and roll your eyes. “And yet you threatened to kill the man who touched me.”
Ghost points toward the gate, emphasizing each word with a light thrust of his hand. “The threat was deserved.”
I’ve killed men over less.
His words rattle around in your head. What normal person says something like that? The fact that he said it without fear makes you question what line of work he’s in.
Ghost drops his arm and takes another drag on his cigarette.
You should be afraid. You should walk back inside to your friends. That’s the safe thing to do. It’s the smart thing. But you’re feeling a bit bold—and a little annoyed. You want to know where this goes or if it’ll lead nowhere at all.
Straightening your shoulders, you drop your cigarette and put it out with the toe of your boot. “My friends think I should fuck you.”
It’s out of your mouth before you have the chance to think twice. Ghost’s hand pauses halfway to his mouth.
His head tilts slightly, and then turns in your direction. “What?”
You hate repeating yourself, but you’ve already said the words. You cannot take them back.
“My friends noticed you staring at me. Told me to talk to you. If I didn’t, one of them would have.”
Ghost fully shifts in your direction. He takes one step toward you. Another. There is a dark swagger there, and he’s trying desperately not to smile.
“You want to have it off?”
Yes.
“Thanks for the offer but I really should leave.” You start to step backward as if to return to the club.
Ghost must realize this because he moves like a bullet, blocking your path, planting one hand against the brick wall behind you. Your gaze falls on his hand and you notice all the tattoos. They cover his fingers and the back of his hand, disappearing under the sleeve of his black leather jacket.
“You’re taking the piss.” Ghost is smiling now but it’s not nefarious or cruel. He’s politely amused, and that is somehow worse. He leans in until you can smell the rich scent of his cologne. “You want to fuck or not?”
You swallow, desperately wanting to say yes. “I have to stay here. Can’t leave my friends.”
Ghost shakes his head and lowers his voice. “We don’t need to leave.”
The thick lust in his tone worms its way into your bones. From there, it oozes from the marrow, sinking into your blood and nerves, consuming every piece of you until your autonomy is nearly snatched from your control.
“You’re being awfully bold,” you murmur.
“You suggested it. I’m simply finishing it.”
“Don’t play games.”
“I’m not.” Ghost straightens a bit. “But I don’t want to unless you’re willing.”
He is sensing you hesitation, and it’s not that you don’t want to. It’s that you’re making excuses because that’s what you do. You step around things, shimmy by issues, and try to avoid as much as you can.
You cross your arms and pop a hip. “I am willing. But I don’t believe you when you say we don’t have to leave.”
He smirks. “So I can’t bend you over that box?” Ghost nods his head at a point behind you but you don’t even look.
“Very funny,” you deadpan.
Ghost straightens his back and his hand falls away from the wall. “This place has an underground area. Mostly employee only but there are a few back rooms where the…musical guests stay.”
“You know an awful lot about this place. Take women down there often?”
Ghost shakes his head. “Never. I like to scope a place out first.”
I’ve killed men over less.
What does he do for a living that he wears a fucking balaclava out in public and wants to “scope a place out” first? Every possibility flows in and then directly out of your head. Any of them could be possible.
“You’re not making a good case for yourself.”
He shrugs. “Up to you. Come with me or don’t.”
Ghost’s word and tone are casual, but you see the tension in every muscle and in the way he carries himself. There is a hesitation in him. A fear that you might say no. But the gin in your veins is strong, and it’s singing, convincing you to go with him.
When do you ever take risks?
“Okay,” you murmur. Then, more loudly. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Two
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado
278 notes · View notes
ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Steddie brain strikes again!
This time with Steve as a former Survivor style competition winner (he auditioned on a dare from Robin) who sued the production company for defamation of character when the show came out and it was edited to make Steve appear mean and bitchy, when the reality was that everyone else in the cast said that he was kind, helpful, and just a joy to be around. And won. (Steve didn’t know it at the time, but Tommy was the reason he got on the show and had been expecting King Steve from high school and instead got Kind Steve and forced the edits [he got fired after the lawsuit]).
Eddie is a rockstar (of course) and head of Corroded Coffin. The band sells out stadiums but likes to do inimate venues like bars and clubs because it gives them a chance to interact with the their fans.
Steve is one of these fans. And goes to a bar concert dressed as he always does. Tight blue jeans and a polo. And he gets to the front of the line to have Eddie (it’s rare to get a signature from the rest of the band, they hate it) sign a vinyl of his favorite record the band did and Eddie greets him cheerfully, asks for his name. Steve refuses to give it because people might not recognize him any more they sure the hell recognize the name. So he just tells him to address it to Eddie’s biggest fan. Eddie does so but senses that some thing is off and asks what wrong. That’s when Steve tell him that he was told he was a fake fan and couldn’t be there for Corroded Coffin. That he must have wandered off the street or something.
Eddie tells him that he doesn’t care what his fans look like as long as they enjoy their music. And tells him to enjoy the show. Steve nods.
After the signing, Eddie goes back to the green room and talks about the polo guy only for Jeff to tell him who Steve is and Eddie is gutted. And completely understands now why he was so reluctant to give out his name. Gareth then tells him that he was pretty sure that Steve left as he didn’t see anyone like that when he went to go grab something from the tour bus.
Eddie is pissed. He goes out on stage and starts one of his rants. He’s famous for them. About how forced conformity works the other way, too. Just because a fan doesn’t look like a metalhead doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy the music. Besides there was no way for them to know why the fan had dressed that way. He could have come straight from work. He could have a home life that makes it hard for him to dress that way, whatever that may look like. Or that could be what the fan likes to wear.
Most of the fans are feeling properly chastised. But there was an asshole close to the front that calls out “Yeah what are you going to do about it?”
“This!” and Eddie walks off the stage.
The crowd is shocked. Eddie Munson just walked away from a concert. Something that had never happened before. Jeff steps up to the mic and says “I’m with him. Free refunds for everyone but that dude. I have your picture on my phone, don’t even try it.”
Then Gareth and Brian look at each and nod. They walk off stage too.
Eddie’s not an ass, he knows he just cost the bar owner a shit ton of money so he goes and finds out how much he’d lose and then cuts him a $5000 check to cover any damage if the crowd riots and they pack up and leave.
The next day Robin comes over screaming about the show Steve was supposed to go to last night. And shows him the video and he turns to her and tells her it’s about him. And tells her what happened last night.
And of course Eddie reaches out and they fall in love.
404 notes · View notes