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thesturniolos · 5 months

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tiny red dress pt 2

m. sturniolo x reader

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

you can find the part 1 here !!

you’ve been fed sorry it took so long <3

y’all know the warnings, my last one got hidden 😫😫

tags: @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @strawberrysturniolo @sturnsbaby @sturniolossmut @sturnioloswife @mattslolita @mattsgirlforeva @malsturns @mattsgirlforeva @chrisdevora @christinarowie332 @kirby0strombolli @klarasmith @freshlovehacker @sturniolosstar @sturnioloss @mattsturniolos @chrisolivia4l @chrissturniolosbf @mattsturniolos @mattsturniolosgf

his hand wraps around my throat and pushes me against the wall, i gasp slightly from the sudden harsh contact and his piercing dark eyes staring me down.

the car ride had been tense after he’d said that and his hand had made its way in between my thighs, prying them away to stop me from moving them. it never stopped the throb underneath my clothes though.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you?” i struggle to find the words, not because of his grip on my neck but because he was so close and the way he looked at me made the ache in my pussy intensify and all i could do was whimper. i was desperate, for anything.

“that’s all you got? that’s pathetic.” he slaps me around the face and grabs my jaw to maintain eye contact, looking at me sympathetically, a facade to make fun of my vulnerable self.

i was like jelly in his hands, i would do anything for him. i didn’t even care about him touching me, making him feel good was enough to send me straight off the edge.

“please, i need you.” i plead and he smiles back at me, shaking his head. his hand on my jaw moves gently across to my lip as he pushes down and opens my mouth, my lips wrap around his thumb sucking slightly.

“yeah? you need me?” he watches as my tongue swirls around his finger and i close my eyes, wishing it was something else. my hips push up from against the wall and i feel his hand wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

i nod and he quickly picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, as he takes me into our bedroom dropping me onto the bed as i stare up at him, my elbows holding me up.

“why are those still on? take them off.” he orders, as he sits on his chair, a little away from me on the bed on my own. he unbuckles his belt and leans back, watching me.”

i nod going to take off my dress but hesitate as i trail the straps down my shoulders. looking up at matt, “but you usually take these off-“

“do you want me to do everything? fucking do it, brat.” i quickly scramble to take off the tiny red dress and heels, kicking them to the floor, leaving me in a matching red set i bought a week prior, hoping this would happen at some point.

i sit patiently on the bed and wait for matt to walk over from his chair and do something, anything. but he doesn’t. he’s leaned back and staring right back at me, belt unbuckled and zipper undone. he looks so unbothered, different to his usual controlling self where he is quick to put his hands all over me.

“show me where you want me.” i slowly trail my hand down to slip it under my red panties, a dark spot especially for matt had formed in the middle. one finger, a single moment of pressure was enough to take my breath away. hours of tension, a knot in my stomach begging to be released.

i rub slowly at first but quickly increase my speed, desperate to finally get what i’ve wanted for what feels like an eternity now. i look up at matt, to see his brows furrowed and his hips bucking up slightly.

in seeing his reaction, i decided to play with him in return for him stopping me in the car and for causing such a scene at the party, he can’t get away with everything.

i throw my head back and groan, my hair falling from my shoulders and my eyes rolling back. i pull my panties aside so he can see my pussy, glistening with my wetness, sliding my fingers up and down.

at the sound of matt’s slight groans, i push a finger inside and pull it in and out at an agonising rate. i wanted an orgasm but it wasn’t the same without his touch, no matter how long it took.

he shakes his head looking down at me, the opening of his jeans revealing his grey boxers that drove me crazy, the pool in my panties becoming more prominent as he stares at me, his hand coming to the straps of my bra as he pulls them down.

it was silent, nothing but my fast breathing and the ring of matt’s keys against the buckle of his belt. he was acting so nonchalant, whilst i squirm with rosy cheeks and a raving heart.

his face was inches away from mine, he stares down at my lips before smashing his against mine, our tongues chasing one another, our breathing becoming desperate laboured.

my hands desperately grab at the hairs at the back of his head, pulling them slightly as his arm grips onto the naked skin of my back and pushes me closer to his clothed body. i groan into the kiss as i feel his raging boner against my pussy.

he flips us over so i’m sitting on top of him and suddenly i feel incredibly exposed, me being nearly naked whilst he has layers on. i break away from the kiss to pull at his shirt in which he grabs the hem and pulls it off in one clean sweep. my hands instinctively dragging against his abs as he winces, the chill of my hands on his burning skin, so much for his calm self.

we connect our lips, once again just as hungrily and the saliva runs from my mouth, down to my chin, onto my chest. i slowly grind my hips on his lap, the heat from my core now becoming increasingly hard to deal with.

“be patient, don’t be a little slut.” i shake my head, looking up, begging for someone- anything- to help me with the throbbing pain in my clit.

“i need you now, matt.” i pry at his jeans, hoping to pull them down to reveal what i really wanted. i didn’t care about the consequences, or the denied orgasms, try and stop me.

“you think you’re the one in charge around here?” he pushes my legs off his lap to push down his jeans and i sigh in relief as i see the huge wet patch on his boxers and his throbbing erection, my eyes lightening up, practically drooling at the sight.

i’m quick to grab onto the hem of his underwear, hoping to pull them down to but he grabs my head, pushing me up as he whips out his cock from his boxers instead of me and without any warning, pushes my head onto his dick, my throat closing around most of it.

my eyes widen, filling with water almost instantly. my gag reflex screaming at me, as i desperately try to pull back. “this is what you asked for. don’t act all pussy now. be a good girl for your daddy.”

and at those words, the saliva dripping from my mouth pools down to the bottom of his dick, his hand still pushing me from the back as i hollow my cheeks and my tongue lays flat against the veins of his cock. i look up to see matt with his head thrown back, only motivating me to go further if it was even possible.

i bounce my head up and down as matt pushes his hips up into my throat, thrusting desperately into me. straggled moans coming from my mouth convert instantly to vibrations which cause matt to open his mouth and practically shout profanities.

“i’m gonna cum- doin’ so good babe.” both his hands supporting me now as he pushes me to bottom out on his cock, filling my whole throat with his huge dick.

seconds later, i gasp for air as he cums straight down my throat, as i swallow it all - not a single drop wasted as i lick it all up.

“such a good girl for me, what a shame you’re not always like this” he pulls me off my knees and raises his head to take one of my nipples into his mouth. i gasp as he sucks and tugs at the bud, i’m scratching at his back desperately now.

“oh fuck- i promise i will be” my eyes rolling back as he trails onto the other one, grabbing and squeezing harshly at my tits, spitting onto them and licking it up.

he flips us over, me being on the bottom. my arms to my sides and my hair spreading across the pillows with his hands next to my head, peering down at me. his tongue slides across his teeth, looking at my body up and down, he looked hungry.

“you know our safe word?” i nod and i know this about to be real good but i’m also scared because he’s so fucking big and sometimes it’s like he doesn’t even realise.

his jeans and boxers are fully off now as are my undergarments, they’re scattered everywhere on the floor. flashes of red, grey and black, lace and cotton, it’s pure desperation.

he connects his lips to my neck and my eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his cold rings against my bare skin and how he sucks on my neck was all so much.

without no warning, no adjusting, he rams into me mercilessly at a rapid pace. my head shooting up instantly, mouth agape and boobs bouncing from the sudden impact.

he’s frowning, looking down to where we’re connected and clearly not satisfied as he thrusts deeper into me, making my whole body slide up the bed, my hands scrambling to find anything to grip onto.

the knot in my stomach is so loose and i’m ready to cum but i’m not ready to give up what ever this is because it’s overwhelmingly good.

women dream for this, this kind of treatment, the popping veins and the length matt keeps hidden his pants. it was times like this that made me go wild for him, how our skin slaps together and how his bulge was visible in my stomach.

“open your mouth.” he somehow manages to utter whilst pounding me relentlessly, no change in pace or rhythm- the man knows what he’s doing. i do as he says and he spits into my mouth. i feel it drip to the back of my throat and instinctively i swallow, making him grin and fasten his thrusts, if that was even possible.

sweat dripped from both our foreheads and it didn’t take long before i was begging for his blessing to let go, it was like a ball of fire in my stomach, like a volcano waiting for one singular rock to tip it right over the edge.

except i had no control of when i was gonna explode and the pit in my stomach released without no warning, a stream of liquid spraying from my pussy, all over matt and the sheets. my head was thrown back onto the pillow as far as it fucking could go and the moans that had been suppressed for so long could be heard from down the end of the street.

matt stared in awe at me as he kept on with his thrusts, catching up to his high which didn’t take long before he shot his huge load into me, painting my walls the most innocent white.

my chest rose up and down, desperate to catch my breath as i look down to see the mess i caused.

“jesus christ, you fucking squirted baby.” i was too tired to even think about what i’d done but i did know it made matt very happy and that was enough for me.

i was too sensitive to even clean myself up, my legs not letting me move one inch. we only went one round but that was enough to limit me to only the bed for a few days, the agonising wait is to blame for that.

“from now on, that dress is used for the bedroom and the bedroom only.”

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo fan fiction #matt sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagines

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slvtforfiction · 6 months

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hi so this is kinda cringy 😭😭

but so your like roommates with johnnie jake etc and like one morning you come down with like love bites n shit like on ur neck, collar bone yeah so like nobody knew you had a partner but then like a guy follows you downstairs (ur boyfriend) and so johnnie has been planing to ask you out for a while since he thought you were single so he's lowkey jealous (ykk???( anyways get creative with the rest of that 😘

Love bites cause breakups

☆ Yesss!

☆ Ty anon <3

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Toxic relationship?

☆ Suggestive? Mainly Fluff

☆ Masterlist

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

My boyfriend walked down the stairs with me,kissing me goodbye as he walked out the door and I smiled walking back upstairs before I heard my name being called.

“Who’s he?” Johnnie asked as I turned around to see him sat in the living room with Jake, “My boyfriend,I swear you’ve met him?” I said to him.

“Hm,though you were single.” He said and his tone completely changed with in the seconds I had been talking to him. I brushed it off and walked upstairs not wanting to cause a scene and texted him instead.

You:

What’s up?

Johnnie:

Wdym

You:

You completely changed when I told you I had a boyfriend,what’s wrong?

Johnnie:

Look in the mirror.

I got up out of bed leaving my phone there and walked into my on suite bathroom.

And I noticed the very visible love bite’s scattered across my neck in a deep violet.

After last night I knew I would have one or two but my neck was filled and it made me full to the brim with embarrassment.

You:

Omg! I’m so sorry if I made you two uncomfortable!!

Johnnie:

Jake didn’t notice.

You:

Oh I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable then!!

Johnnie:

u didn’t,don’t care who u get off w.

You:

Oh okay,sorry anyways though x

Read 11:54am

Something was wrong but I didn’t know what I had done. My first thought however was to mainly cover up the marks with foundation,which I did.

I was going to a party later and my boyfriend wasn’t coming because he doesn’t like my friends.I had to beg him to go to this party anyways to be honest.

My friends don’t like my boyfriend either,they keep calling him controlling but he’s just not.

I messaged a picture of my outfit to my boyfriend and he got mad at me,to be honest I had had enough.

Maybe my friends were right,this is stupid.

“Why don’t you like it?” I asked him when he had called me, “Because men will be eyeing you up.” He told me as if he thought I was going to cheat.

“I don’t care,I don’t want them.” I told him, “You’re acting like it,take it off.” He said right back. I audibly gasped and hung up the phone call,sending him a text telling him to go fuck himself because we’re breaking up,then quickly blocked him.

He wasn’t going to ruin my night and I knew my friends would be happy I laughed to myself.

After I had got my dress on,finishing off my makeup (to cover up the discomfort of the marks on my neck) and walked downstairs to find Jake and Johnnie waiting for me in their usual,casual clothes.

“Am I over dressed?” I laughed and Jake smiled at me,Johnnie still avoided my gaze,only looking at my neck then looking away again.

“I think you’ll find we’re slightly under-dressed.” He joked with me and I smiled as we walked out the door.

“Oh also I broke up with my boyfriend.” I told them as I walked into Sam and Colby’s apartment for the party.

I walked over to grab a drink and emerged into the crowd to walk over to Sam and Colby.

“Congrats on ten mil!” I told them as I hugged them both, “Thanks!” Colby and Sam said in unison and laughed at it.

“How’s the party?” Colby said leaving everyone else to turn to talk with me. “It’s good! How’s it going for you?” I asked as I smiled at him.

“It’s all good! Where’s you boyfriend?” He asked,his eyes skimming through the crowd to find him. “Ex.” I corrected as I laughed to myself. “Shit what happened?” He asked and I began to explain.

“Pretty much it,but there’s someone better anyways.” I told him as he smiled at me putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Damn,you deserve better princess,anyways I’ll catch you later?” He said kissing my forehead as he caught me in a hug,looking over to his friends who were waiting for him. “Yeah,course.” I said smiling.

I looked over to see Johnnie in a corner with a solo cup in hand and walked over to him (after a few shots for confidence.)

“Why are you moping in a corner?” I asked,drunkenly smiling. “Why did you break up with your boyfriend?” He asked (probably avoiding the question) and I laughed putting my head down into his shoulder.

“Cause’ he’s a dick and he didn’t like my outfit and also I think someone else is pretty hot anyways.” I said,drunkenly giggling to myself.

“Maybe we should get you home,huh?” He said wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Okay.” I said without protest.

He held my hand and led me through the crowd and out of the door.

We got in the lift,he still held my hand and I looked down smiling as I rested my head on his shoulder for the short ride.

He then opened the door to our apartment across the hall and helped me up the stairs.

He got me into bed and pulled the covers over me as I noticed I was in his room instead of mine. He then kissed my head. Just as he was about to leave I called out his name.

“Johnnie,wait.” I said and he turned around to look at me, “You should be my boyfriend.”

That was a couple of years ago,today is our 4 year anniversary.

#spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby fluff #colby brock #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader

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holylulusworld · 3 months

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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, sadness, rejection, Mary being a bitch, sleazy John

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Live was great. The man you loved proposed to you in the most romantic way. And later, you made love in his old Chevy Impala. The only girl he loved as much as he loved you; according to Dean.

Butterflies still fluttered in your stomach whenever he looked at you.

Everything was fine, great even. Until he invited you for a family dinner to get to know the rest of his family.

You already knew his younger brother. Sam was easy to be around.

Dean never talked much about the rest of his family. All you knew was his mother came from old money, and his father was a made man.

The moment you stepped into Mary Winchester’s house, your relationship with Dean was doomed.

Not only did she ignore you for most of the day, but she always invited Dean’s first love, the girl next door. The one and only Lisa Braeden.

You knew that Dean never got over her and accepted that he had a past. Everyone has a past, right?

It felt like someone stabbed you in the back and ripped your heart out at the same time.

But you never were a quitter. Instead of sulking in a corner and watching your fiancé talk to his ex, you decided to remind him what he’s going to lose if he doesn’t get his shit together.

“No, wait. He’s my man. His mother can’t do this to me,” you cursed under your breath." Dean was your man, he even proposed to you. His family just didn’t know yet. “I’ll beat you with your own weapons, bitch.”

You walked back upstairs, entered the room you shared with Dean, and threw on your most sexy dress, killer heels, and no underwear. – To hell with the girl next door.

When you walked back down you put on a faked smile and confidently entered the living room again.

Your eyes scanned the room for you man only to watch Dean still talk to Lisa. They laughed, and she touched his arm, giggling like he said the funniest thing she ever heard.

You saw red but didn’t want to act like a jealous bitch in heat. So, you took a deep breath and brushed your concerns off.

“A nice party, huh?” Dean’s father stood a little too close for comfort. “Can’t believe my son got his hands on someone like you.”

John Winchester stank like booze and desperation. You assumed he didn’t get any from the ice queen his wife seemed to be.

“Mr. Winchester,” you excused yourself to walk toward Dean.

You stopped in your tracks and took another deep breath. Dean ignored you calling his name, even when you put your hand on his shoulder. “Dean, I’m a little tired and I got a terrible headache.”

He didn’t react, too engrossed in listening to what Lisa had to say.

“Later,” he grumbled and didn’t even spare you a glance.

You knew there and then that Dean wasn’t ready to marry you.

Maybe you only were a rebound to him. A woman he could use until Lisa came back into the picture thanks to his mother.

“I thought you have changed. Dean, I believed you moved on from sleeping around when we met. Please don’t prove all the people telling me not to marry you right,” you grabbed his hand and tried to make him face you.

“Y/N, not now,” he didn’t even hear what you said and waved you off. “Later.”

“Please…We need to talk Dean…it’s not only us any longer,” you whispered the words not daring to speak any louder.

You dropped his hand and stepped away, catching the attention of his whole family when you turned around to run upstairs.

You cried for what felt like an eternity when it was only a few minutes.

Sam came by after the scene you made in your opinion, but you didn’t open the door.

“I don’t know what to do now,” you wiped your eyes and choked out a sob. Dean changed so fast only because that woman was around. He didn’t act like the man you fell in love with that night.

It took all the strength left in you to change clothing again and pack up all your belongings. If he didn’t come to his senses tonight, maybe tomorrow when he found you gone.

You hastily wrote a few lines, and placed the piece of paper on the bed, along with your engagement ring.

Rereading the lines you choke out another sob.

One night of passion, a life-long responsibility. This is your decision. Are you in or out? I got a job offer in London and will accept it if you don’t want to be a father yet (or at all). If you are still the man you made me believe you are, call me tomorrow. If not, have a nice life…

Part 1

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #angst #au!dean winchester #au!dean winchester x reader #female reader #spn

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seoksgrl · 4 months

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rather be dead than cool, 2. : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent she's all that au

tws: rich antics, irene and mina being mean girls, name-calling

m.list prev | next

The address you texted to Jeongguk, after obtaining his mobile number, is in the centre of Gangnam, a street lined with row upon row of stores fit for those who have cash to burn. If you’re going to get Jeon towards your end of the popularity spectrum, it’s imperative that you get him out of whatever baggy, dark outfit he plans to turn up in today. Once the clothes are dealt with, you can work on that shaggy mop of hair before figuring out how to introduce him to your scene.

That will likely be the easier part - once Jeon is seen with you, campus interest will soar.

“How are things going?” Irene coos down the phone, an edge to her tone that often came when the two of you would play these kinds of games. Finding ways to one up the other, whether it be over boys or over money. While Irene is the friend you have known the longest, you can’t say she’s the one you trust. Though, your competitive streaks have always run alongside each other, the perfect match.

You check your appearance in the store window, the first place you’re expecting to visit with Jeongguk. There’s a party this weekend at an old friend’s cabin, and if you’re going to bring Jeongguk, he needs to wear something that will enhance the foundations you managed to spot upon your first meeting. Brushing your hair over your shoulder, you reapply lip balm, using the window as your mirror, “Things are going according to plan. Jeon isn’t anything I can’t handle,”

Irene hums on the other end of the phone, though it’s anything but encouraging, “As long as you don’t plan on throwing in the towel before we’ve even started,”

“Not at all,” You grin at your own reflection, “He’ll be walking into the spring formal with all eyes on him when I’m finished. And I’ll take a ride in the Porsche as a reward,”

You can see it now, Irene’s eyes flashing with annoyance at your confidence. You often wonder if pissing off your best friend should bring you this much joy, but before you can ponder any longer, a familiar dark frame comes into sight down the street, skulking through the people on the sidewalk, and you end the call with Irene as your eyes land on Jeongguk.

He’s dressed in what appears to be his favourite colour, black, paint-stained jeans and an oversized t-shirt. All that covers him from the unpredictable spring weather is a thin, denim jacket - also paint-stained. You wonder if it’s intentional.

He stops in front of you, large frame so imposing you have to take a small step back, your Gucci boots hardly a match for Jeongguk’s height. Your head tilts, eyes meeting his own weary gaze before you flash him your winning smile.

“I’m glad you got here in one piece,” You hadn’t asked if Jeongguk drives, but you assume he must, having walked from the direction of the parking lot behind the row of designer stores, “I hope it was easy for you to find,”

He frowns at that, shuffling from foot to foot and adjusting his backpack a couple times. The wind has already managed to wriggle some fly-away hairs loose from whatever excuse for a ponytail he has, the strands falling around his face and brushing his chin. You cannot wait to get a few inches chopped - the length doesn’t bother you, but you can spot the split ends from here, for goodness sake.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, and so you press on, still wearing the bright, chirpy grin you save for meeting new people. You always like to make a good first impression, and you remember it being one of the few things your parents instilled in you as a child. Your other habits were picked up from movies, being that you rarely had time to do anything else as a youngster. Father was never home and when mother wasn’t shopping, she was organising charity events for your father and his work colleagues.

You shake away the oddly sombre memory and continue with the task at hand, leading Jeongguk into the first store - Gucci itself.

“We’ll start here,” You say, maintaining control as you lead Jeongguk further into the store, towards where the men’s shirts and slacks are kept, “I have an appointment booked for your hair,”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jeongguk reach up and tug at the strands by his chin, brushing them behind his reddened ear. You continue to talk him through the itinerary for the day, though his pleading eyes continue to drill into the side of your head, and you have no choice but to turn, brow quirked, “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah -” He clears his throat, “I can’t afford anything here,”

You wave away Jeongguk’s worries, exhaling a short laugh, “I can take care of it. I have more than enough money, and plenty of good friendships with the staff. You can use my black card,”

“Black card?” He asks, dark brows furrowing, creating a tiny wrinkle between them, “Is that like store credit?”

You exhale again, but this time you’re not laughing. You realise not everyone pays for their tuition into Yonsei, and you’re just now realising perhaps Jeongguk is there on a scholarship. That would mean he’s very talented, something that intrigues you, though you don’t have time to be intrigued by your science experiment.

“It’s a luxury credit card, Jeon,” You blink, “My family is very wealthy, and like I said,” You flip your hair over your shoulder, “I want to help,”

Not completely the truth, but Jeongguk doesn’t need to know that.

His lips part for a couple moments, before falling shut, and you continue walking with him towards the Oxford shirts. The sales assistant, eager and a little annoying, strolls over, their brows raising a fraction when they spot the tall, out-of-place guy beside you. Their lips part, their welcoming disposition betrayed by the obvious judgement in their gaze before their eyes slide back to you.

“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you back,” The young girl says, hands clasp in front of her, bright pink nails start against the black of her uniform as her eyes once more stray to Jeongguk, confusion marring her strictly sunny expression, “How can we help you today?”

You step forward, gesturing at Jeongguk with one hand and sliding a thumb across your phone screen with another. You had spent last night brainstorming the optimum stylistic direction to take with Jeongguk, wanting to enhance what good features he has in order to make his transformation believable. He still has to win Spring King, after all, and to do that, he needs to look and act the part. Turning up in head-to-toe designer the day after wearing his paint stained baggy jeans isn’t gonna work.

“My friend is looking for a few staple capsule pieces to add to his wardrobe,” You say, walking further into the store, followed closely by the assistant, and then Jeongguk who lags behind, looking entirely like a fish out of water, “Nothing too flashy, just several timeless pieces to get him started. He’s new to designer,”

The shop assistant makes a noise as if to say yeah, I can tell and you raise your brows expectantly, watching as she stumbles over her words, rushing towards the back of the store where the men’s shirts are displayed neatly, “O-of course, miss. Absolutely,”

When you turn, Jeongguk is watching the whole exchange with curiosity and a little disbelief, his brows are drawn together, eyes impossibly brown and impossibly wide. You pause in your step, raising a manicured eyebrow in response, “Do you have something to say?”

“Does everyone always do as you tell them to?”

You smile, “Yes, now come on,” clicking your fingers, you turn and walk to where the assistant is waiting for you, not bothering to turn to check if Jeongguk is following.

He is.

Irene smacks her lips as she reapplies her lipgloss, using the mirrored wall in the new sushi restaurant, Stix, to see her reflection. You watch her fluff up her hair, wiping at the corner of her mouth, and you decide to check over your own appearance.

As expected, it’s flawless. You always apply a lip tint if you know you’re going to be eating, saving you the time of reapplying. Your mother always told you that was rude, and so the habit has stuck. The urge to make a dig at Irene raises it’s ugly head, but you successfully shut it down. After all, you’d hate to make a fuss, and to embarrass your friend.

“Have you played with your little lab rat yet?” Irene asks, grinning as she turns away from the mirror, putting her lip gloss back in her purse and pulling out her compact. Her makeup is flawless, but you don’t say anything as she begins to touch up her already perfect skin.

“I took him shopping a couple days ago,” Mina snickers, and you shrug, continuing, “I didn’t have a lot to work with, new clothes were imperative if I want to recreate his image,”

Irene giggles, “Sounds like you had fun dressing up your little pet project,”

“It was a means to an end. The shirts were basic, Jeongguk didn’t want to branch out,” In fact, he didn’t take any of your fashion advice beyond pointing out what he would need from around the store. He picked up a few white t-shirts, white button-ups and some black slacks. You had to practically force him to get the shoes you suggested, if only to prevent him from wearing Gucci dress pants with his sneakers.

You can safely say you’ve never met someone so stubborn.

“Are you gonna bring him to Jimin’s party on Saturday?” Mina asks, wiggling her brows as if the mere idea is mischievous, “He could be your date,”

Irene let out a yelp of laughter, and Mina joins in, the pair of them cackling like two evil witches. You watch them with a vague sense of annoyance, a familiar flare of stubbornness coming to life in your chest as you remain stone-faced, waiting for their laughter to die down. When it does, it peters out, their eyes shifting between you and each other as the silence grows.

“Y/N, did you hear Mina’s joke?”

“I did,” You smile, cat-like and confident, “I didn’t get the joke. I mean, Jeongguk’s reputation is about to be improved tenfold. Why not let people think he’s my date?”

Mina gasps and Irene’s plucked brows raise in a look of abject horror, she actually puts a hand on her chest as if she has been scandalised by your question. You can hardly see the problem with it - after all, it was your understanding that in order to ensure you winning the bet, the whole thing would end with you and Jeongguk attending the Spring formal together anyway. It makes sense in your head.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Irene says, snorting, “bringing that loser to Jimin’s party? You two just broke up, Jimin will think you have gone insane,”

You frown, taking a sip of water, “I’m not sure about that. Nobody knows who Jeongguk is, and once I’ve got him styled appropriately, people will just assume he’s a random hot guy I’ve picked up. If Jimin can be a cliche and score a cheerleader, why not be a little mysterious?”

Irene mutters, "I don't know about 'hot',"

You smile, brittle and a little annoyed, "He will be when I'm finished with him. Have some faith, Irene,"

When you glance at Mina, she seems to be grasping where you’re coming from, but as per usual, Irene doesn’t see your side of things, and she rolls her eyes, returning to her useless endeavour to fix problems that don’t exist with her makeup. You smile blandly at Mina, sipping at your water and scrolling through your socials.

taglist: @kyglover @jk97bam

please let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist!

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lilykatelyn-blog · 8 months

Text

𝓓𝓪𝔂 8 - 𝓑.𝓒 - LILY’S KINKTOBER

Pairing: DomPrince!BangChan x SubFutureWife!Reader

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff

theme: begging

warnings: D/S dynamics, begging (duh), blowjob, bondage, penetrative sex, safe sex, hair pulling, hard dom Channie, spanking, jealousy, arranged marriage au, breeding kink.

Your engagement party could not have been more perfect. Chan and you had gotten specific decorations for it and it looked truly out of a dream. You had about 150 guests and 3 hours to get through all of them, what a fun task! Chan had been nothing but a sweetheart since your parents had set you guys up for marriage, having been friends as kids, it wasn’t hard to get used to the idea of living with him forever. “Y/N! Hyung!” His selected best man and closest friend, Minho, had come up to you two. He gave your hand a kiss and greeting and a giant bear hug to Chan, making all of you chuckle. “Congrats! I heard that Changbin made it! You should go find him, if it’s okay with Y/N of course.” He gave you pleading eyes, making you laugh a bit and nod your head. “Go on, I’ll try to get through some of the guests.” You gave Chan a kiss on the cheek, heading over to your maid of honor to be, Yunjin, grabbing a glass of wine and laughing with her as people joined the conversation. “So how’d you two meet?” Heeseung asked, looking genuinely intrigued. “It’s complicated, I’ll tell the story at the wedding.” Getting many boos and complaints from the group. “Ah, well I’m afraid I should go, my mum’s sick. Best of wishes, and I’ll see you soon!” Heeseung hugged you, giving you a kiss on the cheek, as you two used to when you were kids. “Bye! Wish her well Hee!” You laughed to him as Yunjin made a joke. Unbeknownst to you, a certain spectator was getting jealous of your interaction with Heeseung.

“..and he- Hyung? You okay?” Han got cut off as he saw Chan staring off to where you were with Heeseung, just as you kissed him on the cheek. All 7 of the boys turned around, the maknae’s oohing and hyunjin and minho disguising laughs as coughs. “You’re jealous, mate? Chill, all she talks about is you and her love for you, man. You’re fine.” Felix laughed at his Hyung’s death stare. “But- did you see her? She-she kissed him on the cheek, she only does that to me. She’s never done it to anyone else.” At this point he was just about to break his glass with how hard he was gripping it. “And we’re done with the beer..” Han took the glass hesitantly out of Chan’s hand, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m sure it’s an inside thing, don’t worry Hyung. You only have about 30 minutes before people start piling out. Just chill for now, talk to her about it later.” Minho softly told him, patting him on the back before getting into conversation with Changbin. “Anyways, mate. What were you saying about how carrier pigeons are liable or some shit?” Chan immediately turned to the conversation that Felix and Han were having, joining in on the nonsense. Trying to get rid of the annoying bubbling feeling inside of his gut. After the happy couple bid their goodbyes to everyone, they said goodbye to the staff and walked up to their room. “So, did you have fun today?” You asked in a hushed tone, taking off your earrings and getting into your sleeping gown. “Mm, talked to Changbin and the boys. What about you?” He asked, still in a bitter mood as he got dressed into his sleeping attire. As you talked about how you talked to Yunjin and your friends, he came up behind you while you were cleaning your makeup at the vanity, hugging your waist. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You asked Chan, softly ruffling his hair as you cleaned up your makeup wipes and stuff. “Nothing, just got a bit jealous at seeing you and Heeseung today.” He murmured, looking down from embarrassment. He knew you two were friends, but he was still insecure, despite being a very powerful person. “We’re just friends, don’t worry. Plus, he doesn’t get to see me like this, hmm?” You told him, turning around and putting your arms around his neck. “I guess you’re right about that.” He whispered, giving you a kiss, deepening it ever so slightly. “Of course I am, now that we’re getting married, you should know I’m always right.” You murmured playfully against his lips, making him laugh a bit. He only deepened the kiss, pressing you against your vanity, at this point, your head was spinning. “Hate to interrupt this wonderful make out session, but let’s move this to the bed, yeah?” You asked, pulling away, and walking away from a very whiny Channie.

As soon as you sat on the bed, he jumped on top of you, going down your jaw to your neck and to your cleavage. “Man, I have to thank our parents for this arrangement, you’re fucking all I need.” He moaned, ravaging you. “Chris, as much as I love this, please get rid of the clothes.” You begged, tugging on his hair. He sat up, patting his lap. “Over my lap, it’ll be quick.” “But why?” You whined, “I didn’t do anything wrong-“ “you made me jealous love, now over my lap.” You verbally protested, but still complied, getting over his lap. “I’ll make it quick, all you have to do is just count love.” He made it sound oh so easy, when in fact it was terribly difficult. “..7, fuck! 8- shit! Chris, honey, I’m- FUCK!” He delivered a harsh slap, making your senses go haywire. “I didn’t hear a 9, babygirl.” He uttered oddly calmly. “Should we start over?” “No! Ni-nine!” You counted, frantically grabbing on something. “Last one, babygirl.” This was the hardest, way harder than the others. “TEN!” You screamed while he soothed the area, also wiping any tears on your face. “Good girl, but you’re still not done.” “W-what?” You asked, still calming down, he fixed you upright in your position. “You’re going to suck my cock, then if you make me cum hard, I’ll consider fucking you. ‘Kay?” He said the last part so sweetly that it could have fooled you that it was genuine. He got you on your knees, pulling down his pants, and releasing his cock. You slowly kissed down his large length, licking his slit, gathering some precum and using it as lube. Slowly taking his head in your mouth, you underestimated just how hard it would be to get all of his length in your mouth, though having done it before, it was still difficult. Once you got to the hilt, you slowly started bobbing you head, getting soft moans from him. Deciding to up your game and make him cum, you swirled your tongue around the head whenever you got to it, bobbing up and down faster and faster. “Fuck, I’m close. You’re gonna swallow my entire load, got it?” You hummed around his cock to confirm, making him throw his head back from the pleasure of the vibrations. Releasing in your mouth, you did exactly what he told you to and showed him the proof that you did. “Good girl, now you’re gonna beg for me to fuck you, yeah?” You knew it was a rhetorical question as soon as he slammed you face down onto the mattress. “Beg.” One simple command released all of the pleas from your mouth. “Please, please, please fuck me Chris. Please, need your cock inside me, fill me up, please!” You begged, your words turning incoherent as he lined up with your entrance. “Good girl, relax for me now, okay?” Pushing into you, he had to hold himself back so he didn’t ram into you. Starting slow, he got a steady pace, only speeding up when your moans got louder. He couldn’t hold back more and flipped you over, re entering you and holding your knee up to your chest he started fucking into you faster. Constant thank yous and pleads came out of your mouth, a scream nearly forming when his thumb made contact with your clit. “Go on, cum for me babygirl.” His thumb added pressure, not moving but just enough to tip you over the edge. Your mouth parted in a silent scream, except there was nothing silent about it, your scream would have been heard throughout the castle, had he not shoved his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. Coming with an animalistic grunt, he collapsed on top of you.

“Chris- get offff.” You whined, insisting on cleaning up. “Did I go too hard on you?” He asked softly while looking into your eyes, ignoring your demand. “No, now please get off so that we can properly clean up.” He complied, watching you try to walk to the washroom. “I’d love some help here.” Snickering evilly, he picked you up bridal style, giving you a big smooch before drawing a bath for you. This marriage was going to last, you were sure of it.

TAGLIST:

@aaasia111, @hgema, @obeythemasters, @imwithurmother, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @virluna148, @sanzusfavgf, @ivyisnotokay, @stanskzsstuff, @luvkpopp

#Skz #stray kids #bang chan #Stray kids bang Chan #skz bang chan #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang Chan x reader #bang Chan smut #Chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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sulfurz · 11 months

Text

ೃ༄ SHIELDING FEELINGS (LITERALLY) (roman reigns x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

heyyyy!! i have a fluff request for roman x (fem) reader. it’s set in his shield days and the reader is a apart of the shield (or a really close allies with them whichever you want) and she’s kind of like the lita of the group. Her and roman have huge crushes on eachother and it’s so obvious to not only seth and dean/mox but the whole wwe universe. So the two guys try to come up with a plan to have them both confess to eachother 😅😅

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: this is pure humour and fluff! basically just himbos dean and seth struggling at playing cupid

ೃ༄WORD COUNT: 1.8k

ೃ༄ NOTE: hello lovely anon i got a BIT carried away with this i apologise but i hope it still works🥹 i had way too much fun writing shield as terrible matchmakers

dean ambrose had a plan.

albeit, it wasn’t a very well thought out one. but it was a plan of somewhat decent calibre.

you see, he had a lot of time for you, acting as shield’s manager and all. what he didn’t have time for was how goddamn dumb you could be sometimes (seth’s words, not his — although he very much agreed).

what was it that got dean so riled up, you ask? well it was the fact that you were so evidently in love with roman reigns, and yet never managed to say more than a pretty pathetic ‘uh, you look nice’ whenever the four of you were backstage.

even worse than you? roman. this man had not kept his crush on your quiet. apparently you were the only one who couldn’t see it, and yet instead of ever acting on said emotions, roman liked to play a fun game of hide from y/n in the locker rooms until it’s time for our match and then i only have to see her for five minutes before. this had, on many occasions, ended with dean nearly throwing him to the ground because of course all this was going to do was make you worry the very beautiful yet stubborn man hated you.

a pretty man, but clearly very little common sense, dean had concluded.

so that was when, after too many training sessions in which you’d sit in silence until your coach brought you into the conversation, he hatched his master plan.

now just to put it into action.

it just so happened the final member of the shield would be a perfect partner.

—

the plan was, in dean and seth’s eyes, bulletproof. they would probably have to undergo a pretty intense intervention afterwards considering how wrong they had been; but at first, their confidence was through the roof.

oh no, dean hurt his shoulder in practice — what a shame! good job seth was there to take him to the medic, a walk he definitely could have done on his own! but they were so smart, right? surely you and roman would talk about something if forced to coinhabit the same space without a buffer?

yeah. they really thought so too.

but after fifteen minutes of hiding behind a comically large stack of chairs, they felt it necessary to put the two of you out of your misery and cry that it was a false alarm.

maybe you two really were more hopeless than dean initially thought.

so came attempt two: the halloween party. because who doesn’t love a good dress up party?

apparently, cupid was more of a christmas fan.

as it happened, vast majority of people brought their dates to the work party, which dean and seth hadn’t planned for, but made the situation even more perfect. not to mention you and roman had accidentally both turned up dressed as demons (finn balor made a playful scene when you walked in) — it was practically a match made in heaven! or hell…

this attempt was easy in theory: set up a conversation about how fun dancing was, before abandoning the two of you at a table to take to the dancefloor themselves. surely you’d get fed up of being left out and want to join???? surely!

except, what dean and seth had failed to consider was that in the spirit of halloween, and the fact that some of the most iconic superstars in the roster loved a good prank, the place was practically decked out with tricks, instead of treats.

dean and seth observed quietly from the dancefloor (they had long since abandoned their girlfriends and were simply dancing together now, chest to chest (hey — this matchmaking was a taxing game!)), practically cheering when they saw the two of you finally getting somewhere.

roman stood, offering a hand to you with a good natured “if you can’t beat them, join them?”, and it was obvious the two of you were so close to finally making that first step as your hand reached for his—

then, a plastic skeleton hidden in a bowl of candy on your tabled decided to choose that moment to make its appearance very known.

and there went your glass of red wine, all down your favourite pantsuit (luckily — it was red too, but the dark patch across your chest was not doing you any favours).

roman very sweetly apologised on behalf of the skeleton, which was the very final part of the conversation seth and dean heard before you were scurrying away to change. they quite literally facepalmed as they walked over to a dumbfounded roman, who still played the entire situation off.

it seemed they’d have to step things up if they really wanted to get through the both of your very thick skulls.

so attempt three was… certainly less subtle.

worse still, it came only a month after the halloween party, when you were still in the thick of your ‘hiding from roman reigns’ era, so imagine your surprise when here comes dean ambrose and seth rollins, dragging roman up to you with the latter wearing an expression of confusion that surely mimicked you own.

“okay.” dean spoke, slamming a hand on the catering table “you, roman, like y/n.”

“you, y/n, like roman.” seth added.

then, like one of those old timely comedy acts, at the same time the men both exclaimed a “now talk!”

and to yours and roman’s credit… you did speak?

it’s not your fault the members of shield hadn’t made the topic entirely clear. it was obvious by now that when it came to roman, you were blind to any subtext, so they could hardly blame you for missing the mark.

“of course i like roman? he’s my friend?” you questioned warily, genuinely beginning to get concerned for the two men you considered friends.

“are you two okay?” roman added, genuine concern across his face as he outstretched a hand to slap seth? check him for a fever? both?

you hummed in confirmation, thinking back on every odd occurrence that had happened between you and roman recently, realising that the common denominator in every situation was the two other members of the stable you managed probably saying something extremely dumb.

—

eventually, dean and seth had to admit they were terrible matchmakers.

when the christmas party that same year had been announced, they very nearly put another thing together, but a swift reminder from the wonderful (and honestly; terrifying) randy orton, the two were reminded of every failed attempt in the past, and their plan unravelled before it had even found it’s feet.

as would turn out, when there wasn’t two idiots meddling, that was when things unfolded themselves.

after the many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate lately, you weren’t expecting roman to approach you mid way through the party. he had spent pretty much the entire night hovering on the opposite side of the room, and for good reason to. you were a liability after all, and his suit shirt was too nice to end up with wine on it. you had opted for white wine instead this time though, just incase.

“hi.” a deep voice came from behind you.

you had been watching triple h and stephanie dancing together for the best part of half an hour, nursing your glass of wine contentedly until the voice behind you had startled you. your glass wobbled in your hand in a terrifying suggested repeat of the halloween event, but roman was prepared this time, swiftly reaching a hand around you and saving it from disaster.

“i should have probably learnt not to sneak up on you.” he joked, motioning with your (thankfully still full) wine glass in his hand before he handed it back to you.

“i certainly learnt that red wine is tasty but dangerous.” you played along, your heart doing a weird thumping thing at how roman chuckled.

“i’m sorry if the other guys ever made you feel uncomfortable.” roman said genuinely, catching you off guard. it was rare you spoke, let alone when the topics brushed a level of seriousness. “we love having you working with us as shield, but they don’t know when to turn off the jokes sometimes.”

you shook your head quickly, hating the idea that roman was concerned about you. sure, dean and seth were idiots at the best of times, but it was a huge part of their charm. from them trying to break roman during promos to their odd, but intriguing backstage celebrations, the slight unhinged enthusiasm was what you loved.

“trust me. i love working with them. with, with you all.” you added at the last second, not missing the slight upper curl in the corner of roman’s mouth when he realised he was included.

you could already feel the blush creeping to your cheeks just because of all his attention being on you, and you knew you were just seconds away from blurting something stupid, when an equally annoying cough came from your side.

comically, both you and roman turned your heads at the same time to see the entirely expected source of the disturbance.

seth and dean were standing a little while away, watching you with the biggest grins you had ever seen. arguably bigger than whenever your team won.

when you realised what was causing their giggles, your heart stopped.

you had casually followed dean’s eyeline, just a simple attempt to see if you could figure out the cause, when you found it immediately. and it seemed roman did too.

mistletoe. hung exactly above where the two of you stood.

you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, going to take a step back but being prevented by a gentle, yet grounding touch to your wrist. when you looked back at roman, he was closer than before, and it was practically an instinct how your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“in the spirit of christmas, right?” he asked, a grin that told it was more than just christmas spirit, and in fact something he had been trying to tell you for a while.

still, you took your time, placing a cautious hand on his bicep as you leant in to connect your lips to his. “in the spirit of christmas.”

#✍🏻 requests : anon #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns scenario #roman reigns #wwe imagines #the shield #dean ambrose #seth rollins

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drewsbuzzcut · 7 months

Text

Halloweekend Night 2

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: alcohol consumption and I think that’s all (let me know if I missed anything)

Dallas is dancing with her friends, passing up the short wait until Nick gets back from the restroom. After the few drinks she’s had, she finally doesn’t feel the discomfort from her dark purple, corset top or her heels. She’s been having so much fun the entire weekend, and it only gets better when she hears the opening beat of ‘Feel So Close’ by Calvin Harris. It’s like every thought floats away from her mind, except Nick.

She immediately looks around, searching for his eyes, and they are the first pair she connects with. He’s staring at her with a breathtaking grin. Her heart melts, realizing that he wasn’t in the restroom, he was requesting the song. She thinks back to the night when she told Nick about this song and the incredible scene it’s part of.

“So this is your favorite episode?” Nick asks Dallas as she’s pressed up against him in his tiny bed.

After a quick dinner and shower together, they’re laid in bed, watching the vampire diaries on his laptop. They’ve come across the episode when Elena and Damon dance together at a house party to ‘Feel so close’ by Calvin Harris. It’s Dallas’ favorite scene.

“Yes! It’s just sooo good. Their chemistry is crazy, and I’ve always wanted to feel that rush with someone,” she explains.

They watch it in silence, Dallas focused on the screen and Nick focused on her, his eyes moving to the screen every once in a while. He watches the way her eyes light up at the sight of Damon and Elena dancing together. Nick grabs her hand, bringing it to his face to kiss the back of it. She smiles at him, letting her hand rest over his heart.

“We should be them for halloween,” Nick suggests, making Dallas look at him with a shocked gaze.

“Wait… really?” She asks, almost afraid that he’ll tell her that he’s joking.

“Yeah. I really like his top hat and all and I think you’d look amazing in one of those corset tops,” Nick states with a relaxed smirk that is to die for.

“I’d love it if we dressed up as them. It can be our night 2 look,” she agrees, already throwing a leg over his hips, so she can straddle him and kiss him all over.

She snaps out of her memory, slowly sashaying her way towards Nick. He prances over to her, quickly reaching his hands out for hers. Their fingers intertwine, sending sparks through their bodies. He rests her hands on the tops of his shoulders, his hands staying on her biceps. Their bodies move in tandem, hips and shoulders move sensually slow compared to the fast beat of the song.

Everyone else moves around the couple in a blurry haze, completely unaware of the significance of this moment. Completely unaware of the big emotions being felt. Each time their bodies come closer together, just barely touching, Dallas feels that electrifying rush run through her veins. It’s a feeling she’s always craved, and now that she’s got a taste, she doesn’t think she could ever go without it.

Nick watches her with a look she’s unfamiliar with. His eyes hold a certain fondness that you only find in a lover who holds so much love in their heart.

“You’re my best friend,” he shouts over the blaring music.

It falls on deaf ears as Dallas is too enthralled in the moment, head tilted back as she continues to sway.

He pulls her closer, her arms looping around his neck while his hands rest on her hips. They continue to dance, even when Nick grabs ahold of both her hands, lifting them in the air, so their faces come closer together.

“You’re my best friend,” he repeats again, this time knowing that she can hear him.

Dallas smiles, lowering her hands to his neck. She softly touches the noticeable veins of his neck, heart fluttering when she sees him gulp. She pulls him into a hug, catching her boyfriend off guard. They stop moving, standing still in the midst of everyone’s motion, although it all seems to disappear. She pulls him in for a kiss, gentle and sweet. His plush lips stealing her breath away, but she welcomes the overwhelming feeling because it gives her life all the same.

“You’re beautiful, June bug,” he says, voice so delicate it almost seems like he wants to cry.

“You’re my best friend, too,” she says back, leaning into him for another kiss.

One that’s more bruising than the last. Her tongue brushes his bottom lip, his mouth quickly welcoming it. He can taste the fruity flavor of her lip gloss mixed with the couple beers she’s had. It’s an intoxicating taste.

Nick feels that certain “L” word sitting heavy in his throat, coming out in the form of a low moan. His hands gravitate their way up her back and into her hair. Dallas smiles against his lips, her hands fisting the suit vest he’s wearing.

“Thank you,” she says, resting her forehead against his.

He grabs her left hand, placing it over his heart. Even though the area is filled with various vibrations from loud music and loud chatter, she can distinguish the familiar thrum of his heartbeat.

“I’d do anything for you.” Her cheeks go red, eyes quickly flitting down to avoid his burning stare. He cups her cheeks, bringing her eyes back up to his. They share a chaste kiss.

“Why me?”

Dallas borderline hates that she let herself ask the question, but she desperately wants to know. She’s never felt this way before, so what is it that makes her so special?

“I’ve never felt this way before. I want to take full advantage of it. I want to show you that I won’t take what we have for granted. I watched you watch that scene, and I could see the wonder in your eyes. It was such a beautiful moment. I knew that I wanted to experience something like that with you,” he states, bringing Dallas to tears.

If only she knew that the week leading up to that night, Nick had watched that single episode over and over until he had it memorized.

“You, Nick Moldenhauer, are so special to me. Never change,” she responds, voice thick. She grabs his face, letting her lips caress his again.

“Never,” he whispers into their kiss.

a/n: This is a sweet mini fic, hope y’all enjoy!!

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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iwantasquaresbar · 26 days

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Buddie rambling and speculation (don’t like don’t read :))

I’ve got extreme buddie brain rot, and before this most recent episode I was genuinely like 80% convinced we were gonna get buddie endgame. I always thought it was going to take a while like end of season 8 or in season 9. But I think like every one else that last episode just baffled me. It’s so strange I mean we will see I guess where things are going to go it doesn’t completely change what I think might happen but boy does it confuse me.

Because to me Buck is primed and ready, like he’s ready for a serious relationship, he’s worked out his sexuality and yeah he’s with Tommy at the moment and is happy. Which I’m enjoying he should be able to have a sweet romance. However to me it always seemed like they were intentionally leaving little cracks in their relationship and those cracks if torn open always lead right to Eddie or Buddie. I’m aware I’m delusional. But like 7x04 I feel like we all know Buck was jealous of both Tommy and Eddie. Like that peacocking in gym was not for Tommy, but I do genuinely believe he wanted Tommys attention too. They also spend that whole episode drawing attention to the similarities between Eddie and Tommy. Then Eddie turns up on the date and in my opinion Buck wouldn’t have done the whole hype straight routine if it had been any other character (also don’t love Tommys closet joke or his leaving but also he should be able to protect his own peace).

Then arguably the most intriguing to me is the costumes at the beginning of 7x06 like I agree it’s not that big of a deal that Tommys not in a costume if he’s on call but what is a big deal is having Buck bring it up. Because idk about anyone else i wouldn’t have realised Tommy wasn’t wearing a costume if it wasn’t brought up, and like it would be so easy to put him in a patterned shirt or have a cute moment where buck makes fun of him not being dressed up then like give him some like fun 80s glasses or some shit like that could’ve been a cute moment but no they had Buck be a little disappointed and Tommy act nonchalant. Then they follow it up with a scene where Eddie is the only one interested in bucks plans for a bachelor party and then he suggests matching costumes for them. Like ik im crazy but im not that crazy right like ik that scene is probably more to do with showing that they don’t know each that well yet and they’re learning and how tommy makes an effort to come but like i just don’t know why we got that parallel. Sorry this little thing just drives me insane.

Anyway the point of this post is I believe Buck is ready for buddie like the door is closed because he’s dating someone else but it’s not locked and it’s easy to open up. But Eddie he has so much work to do he needs to properly grieve Shannon and realise he doesn’t need to replace her for his or Chris’s sake. Then maybe he can face that he might not be as straight as he originally thought.

Basically i still definitely believe buddie can happen and be endgame i think they’ve set a good foundation especially on bucks part but Eddie has a long way to go and it’s gonna take time. I think the writers are keeping there options open and we won’t really get an idea if anything will happen between them until probably like end of season 8

#buddie #buddie rambling #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 on abc #eddie diaz #buddie theories

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irabelaswriting · 2 years

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halcyon 1/2

pairing: morpheus x f!reader | rating: E | words: 5.2k | ao3

tags: #1 emo boy’s coping strategy being avoidance?, checks out, halloween party, the mask comes off, pining, angst, jealousy, possessiveness, semi-public sex, exhibition kink, fluff, no use of y/n,

summary: Getting ghosted by a literal dream felt... very small. A niche subgroup that you couldn’t really turn to anyone about – and that you’d rather not even belong to in the first place.

That time Morpheus doesn’t keep his promise.

Until he does.

a/n: the sequel to influx is here! tags will be updated when part 2 is posted. hope y'all enjoy, let me know what worked and what didn’t<3

The party has been going on for a couple of hours now. Your friend has all but abandoned you to go after some situationship, leaving you with acquaintances who you barely recognize beneath the layers of greasepaint and masks of different movie slashers.

Weight shifting on your feet, you look around.

The guy your friend has roped you into seeing rounds the corner, mask tilted to the side as he grins at you. He’s dressed as that slasher from Friday the 13th; or at least, you think so. A hockey mask sits tilted to one side of his face, jaw and jowls smeared in sticky fake blood, costume haphazardly put together with a bloodied orange prison uniform.

Everyone needed a costume to get in – your friends had made sure you weren’t able to sit this one out because of a lack of it. And so, you got put in a deliberately skimpy outfit — bare shoulders with a low cut, and stay ups.

Pretty. Flattering. Inviting.

Even if it still was up to interpretation as to exactly what you were supposed to be.

“Thought I lost you.” He holds out the can of generic brand hard seltzer towards you, smiling.

That was unlikely. You hadn’t moved on an inch from where he’d left you, and you fight the urge to raise a doubtful brow.

You don’t really remember his name (was it Josh? John? James? … Jason? the outfit would be eerily fitting, in that case, maybe even on the verge of bad taste), just that he’s shown interest before at some mutual event. Hung around, asked about you, added you on your socials afterwards. Liked every picture posted and swiped up on every story, heart and fire emojis in abundance.

You’ve blown him off with that easy, breezy way that you use on people you have no real interest in. Let him down easy, not wanting to cause a scene. He is, after all, on the fringes of your friend group, and it would be sad to make that circle any smaller than it already is.

So, you’ve let Josh put his hand on your hip, fingers splaying out against the small of your back. Let him get a good look down your cleavage every time he so much as turns to look at you. Let him guide you into conversations with that hold on you, like you might vanish into thin air if he lets you out of sight, or as if you might get stolen away by some other adversary.

With a small thanks, you accept the drink. The crack and fizz as you open it and take a sip fills the void for long enough that Josh starts talking again, ushering you back into the crowded living room with his hand on your hip, too low to just be friendly.

And why not? It wasn’t like Morpheus had been around.

At first, the visits had continued. As he had suggested.

Morpheus would appear at the oddest times – in the middle of your living room, or in your bedroom. One time, you’d stepped out of the shower and gotten a real fright, much to his smug amusement.

And it wasn’t as if he’d just show up and fuck you through the nearest available surface, as you might’ve suspected first. No, he was good company, too.

If you offered dinner, he’d accept, even help (he would, however, not eat much, only poke the food around, despite trying everything). If he was still around in the morning, you’d wake up with his arms around you. It had even gone so far that you would make enough coffee for the both of you in the mornings – a new addition to your daily routine.

Perhaps you had grown a bit attached, as he had alluded to. More days than not he would come around. And you had certainly grown accustomed to having him around; that there would be twin pairs of cutlery and plates in your dishrack at the end of the day.

And if you didn’t want to… well, you hadn’t found yourself in that particular predicament yet.

If you asked, he’d even come along on errands. He wouldn’t say much to anyone else – just listen in on your interactions with cashiers and clerks, observe those around you with a slightly guarded expression. One time he had even joined you on some silly little non-errands; collecting parcels and treating yourself to coffee and cake.

Hadn’t even protested or pulled away when you wrapped your arm around his on the way home. You had, of course, done everything to make the gesture seem natural and not the carefully planned and orchestrated action it had been, heart thumping in your chest the entire time.

In fact, you had thought he looked rather pleased at the casual affection.

After getting home that day, he managed to run up your water bill some more. Barely let you get into your apartment before he was on you.

Hair wet and clinging to his face, eyes glimmering up at you as he let you dangle on the precipice of yet another orgasm.

You wet your lips with another sip of your drink, trying to rid the image of Morpheus on his knees in your shower.

It was as if he had vanished without a trace. Slipped through your fingers like sand.

A month had passed. From the beginning of October to the end of it — only really dragged to this particular Halloween party by your friends because you were a moping mess most of the time that refused to elaborate as to why your mood was so depleted.

Morpheus had used you. It— it had worked. You were out of his hair – no longer his problem. He had taken back what had been unwillingly bestowed upon you at that first meeting, so many weeks ago, and left you high and dry.

It had been what you wanted; the ability to get your rocks off had definitely returned. But now, you acquired another, different, problem. Every orgasm was fueled by thoughts of him; making up for lost time, masturbation statistics shooting up faster than rent in a gentrified neighborhood. All of them subsidized with new fantasies, no– memories replaying across your retina.

Still quivering from the comedown, Morpheus lodged inside you, grinding deep, almost too deep for comfort. Lean arms wrapping around your torso, slender fingers digging into the softness of your sides, pulling you down in union with his raised pelvis. Hips pistoning, tapping repeatedly upwards, until you wail into the crook of his neck, unable to do anything but letting him take what he needs.

Thighs rubbing together, you shift on your feet, inhaling through your nose, steadying yourself from thinking more about any sexual ventures.

As the days turned to weeks with no further call or interaction from Morpheus, not even the merest whisper in your dreams (that had all returned to the same boring routine of your teeth falling out or other mishaps) that he cared, you had started to suspect that he... had forgotten about you.

Used you for the purpose he had stated and then left. That you were nothing more than a means to an end.

And sure, that happened. Not like you’d been a virgin, or even inexperienced in the one night stand department—

It just—

He had not seemed like the type to instill false hope into you.

But as time passed you couldn’t help but feel as if that was the case.

Why had he stuck around then?

Getting ghosted by a literal dream felt... very small. A niche subgroup that you couldn’t really turn to anyone about – and that you’d rather not even belong to in the first place.

Was it something you said? Something you did? You had recounted every interaction, every exchange like a heartbroken teenager, trying to find a reason for the abrupt end. Even shed a few tears about it in the dark of night.

Maybe it had been true, what he had called you – lonely girl. So desperate for a connection that this mere fling of intimacy had your heart soaring, had brightened your days enough to make you actually look forward to them.

Suddenly despondent, you take another sip of your drink, feigning a smile as Josh finishes yet another story that has the cluster of people surrounding you laughing. Again.

Really, you had thought you’d even gotten better at reading Morpheus’ cues. The little telltale signs that he wanted to touch you, wanted you to touch him, that he needed to leave or that he found whatever it was that you dragged him along to was particularly amusing. Even with your limbs entwined in bed, you had gotten better at figuring out his cues – exactly how he wanted to be kissed, wanted to have you.

Had you been wrong all along?

Perhaps it was the same as what you were doing to Josh. Leading him on by not swatting away his hand the moment it landed on your hip, by laughing along at a bad joke he told. Instilling him with hope, the promise, that you would go home with him, maybe even let him pull you into one of the many vacant bedrooms on the floor above and let him do as he pleased.

Maybe you were the same as Morpheus.

Maybe you deserved what he’d done to you – how he’d left you. Alone and hoping. A thin layer of something like sand in his wake you’d spent the good part of two days finding scattered across your apartment and which you had subsequently vacuumed up, cursing him under your breath the entire time.

Thoughts turning dark, you zone out all the noise, the music, the people, around you; the bass is the only thing you feel, thrumming through your system.

In the peripheral of your vision, something moves. Barely, you turn around in vice like grip Josh still has on your hip, eyes searching in a crowd of muddled and masked faces–

A person, dressed in all black moves through the crowd, just a few feet away. A mask so unusual that it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before covers their face; made up of a long, boney appendage and tinted pieces of glass shielding the eye sockets. Around you, people stop and stare, almost startled as they’re passed by. No one makes any moves to approach the mysterious figure, letting them pass by as if all they’re seeing is a mere stranger on the street.

The stranger doesn’t seem to mind, no– notice, any of the odd looks.

Instead, the scarlet glass covered eyes lock with yours, eerily familiar.

A shiver races through your system.

As if nothing has happened, noise fills your ears again, loud music reverberating through your system, everyone around you seemingly forgetting the sight of the wispy form of a stranger.

What was that?

“Just gonna get another drink,” you mumble, barely giving any mind to pleasantries for the moment, untangling yourself.

“You just got one.” Josh’s brow furrows momentarily. Instantly, you’re reminded that he was the one who got the can for you, that hurt tinges the fringes of his voice. Like he’s a puppy you’ve just kicked.

“Not a big fan of cherry.” You lie on the spot, scrunching your nose up and shaking the can back and forth. “I’ll be right back,” you add over your shoulder, hitting him with the most charming, reassuring smile as you leave to investigate.

The eyes that you feel lingering over your rear are unmistakably his.

Quickly, you act, intent on not losing track of the figure.

You don’t know what you saw — just that you feel inexplicably drawn to it. The mask was weird, in an uncannily familiar way; as if you’ve seen it somewhere, passed it by in a shop window without sparing it a single thought. With its giant bug eyes it would’ve looked like an overgrown dragonfly if it wasn’t for the spine-like mouthpiece – and surely, you think you would remember seeing that.

Getting through the crowd is easy; and as you move into the hallway you swear you catch something moving towards the end of the staircase.

Tendrils of black smoke lick at the varnished wood posts going up to the second floor. They curl upwards and inwards like tails, a soft beckoning motion, before vanishing into thin air, one after another.

And like a dog on a leash – you follow.

The last wisp of dark shadow sneaks around the bend, just enough that you don’t miss it. Drink willfully abandoned at the bottom of the stairs, you start the climb upwards.

A long corridor greets you, filled with large wooden doors in the darkest of oak, dimly lit and foreboding.

Hand on the stair post as you twist around, already forming a plan to start your search at the shorter end of the hallway when you feel it.

Maybe it’s some primal instinct from when humans were prey more than predator – but the hair on the back of your neck prickles, feeling the weight of a presence behind you.

Your breath hitches.

Slowly, as if any sudden movements would scare them off, you turn around.

Your own reflection stares back at you, painted red like guts. It’s even stranger up close, the mask; all metal and stone, glass and bone. Much more of a helm than a mask, you note.

“... Morpheus?”

A ruby dangles around his neck, crimson like thick blood.

“Take off the mask, it’s creepy.” You say, suddenly uneasy at seeing yourself in the bugeyed reflection. “You look like the cryptkeeper.”

“That’s my sister.” The voice is distorted through the helm, but sure enough – it’s him, the baritone familiar, intimately known to you. And he obliges, hair even more tousled than usual as he removes it.

“...What?” You blink, shaking that off as you take him in. Despite it all, he’s still gorgeous – the mere expanse of his neck sends a tingle through your body, trying your hardest not to stare at his Adam's apple, the lips you know are soft, that you know has kissed parts of your body that even the skimpy outfit isn’t showing off. “W—what are you doing here?”

“Attending the party.” Morpheus motions to the helmet in his hands.

“No— very funny,“ his reply shifts you off key, like it’s impossible that he would be here for that simple reason alone. Regaining your footing in the midst of emotions filling you is harder than it should be, and all you manage is a scoff, shrugging. “I wouldn't know. Not like you’ve been around.”

His eyes roll over you, taking in the costume, the carefully guarded tone you’ve chosen, before he replies. “Circumstances have gotten… complicated.”

By your sides, your hands form fists, jaw clenching.

“Great fucking excuse,” you smack a hand into his chest. Him being here doesn’t make you feel any less jilted, any less upset–

The impact doesn’t even seem to faze him, only meeting the resistance of his chest, but momentarily, his dark brows pull down. “I do not expect you to understand.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system making you braver, angrier, but you voice raises above the conversational volume you’ve kept, no longer able to keep the hurt in your chest contained–

“Understand? How hard is it for you, of all people, to let me know in a fucking dream or whatever that you didn’t want more than—“

From the foot of the stairs, someone calls out your name.

You’ve taken too long. Now, Josh is looking for you, intent on leading you towards the end he has imagined all evening.

“It’s Josh,“ your whisper sounds panicked, even to your own ears as you turn towards the sound.

“A friend?”

You don’t hide your eyeroll at his terse tone. “Just some dude—“

Morpheus scoffs.

At once, your head whips back to meet his gaze.

He’s frowning at you, like a skulking child.

“Are you serious?” You’re still whispering, and you’re not sure why. “You can’t be seriously upset that I– that I–”

What was it that you were doing, really? Replacing him by leading along a guy who's had it bad for you since the moment he laid eyes on you? At the realization, the way you’ve clipped your own tongue, you decide that you don’t particularly feel like talking to Morpheus anymore.

“You left me.” You simply hiss, turning back to hurry down the stairs.

You’re gearing up to answer Josh’s call, air rushing to your lungs – when slender fingers wrap around your elbow.

Instead, all that leaves your lips is a startled sound as Morpheus shoves you into an empty bedroom, seemingly exerting no strength while doing so.

“Hey!” You protest.

Morpheus hushes you, actually hushes you, as he leads the way with you in front of him, out on the bedroom's adjoining balcony.

Below, the garden is alive with people. Fairy lights twinkle, people in masks and costumes laughing and drinking, music still loud enough to be heard outside. The lights are a bit redundant; a full moon sits fat and round in the sky, illuminating the scene in pale light – a perfect addition to the Halloween party. No one thinks of looking up – or at least, you hope so as Morpheus presses you against him, your back to his front.

Now, he was the one with a front row seat to look down your cleavage.

“Stop,” your fingers snag around his wrist, about to struggle to get free, to make the distance more controlled, “let me go.”

“Quiet,” he retorts, “they’ll find us.”

“It’s all your f—“ the words are cut off as his fingers smarts a garter against the soft plump of your thigh.

You gasp, momentarily stunned before you’re readying up to turn around and smack him again when his grip tightens.

“Quiet.” The command is repeated in a whisper right by your ear, punctuated by a pinch to your thigh. Pulling you tighter against him, slender fingers digging into the natural curve of your waist, making sure the two of you are shielded from the inside of the bedroom.

Warm fingers soothe the hurt on your thigh, even warmer breaths hitting the soft skin of your neck. Gods, you’ve shivered for less.

And, you feel compelled to listen to him, heart beating at the pit of your throat, adrenaline surging through your system.

Like a bloodhound on a trail – Josh has followed you.

Even from out on the balcony, you hear him in the hallway, looking for you, accompanied by someone.

The hands on your midriff move upwards.

“Where could she have gone?” Josh’s weary sigh is audible enough that you realize he’s right outside the bedroom door now.

Fingers with light pressure behind them trail up against your ribcage, taking their time before reaching their goal.

“Not over ‘ere,” responds the other voice, slightly slurred.

Tucking his head against your shoulder, Morpheus’ hands curve up from below, cupping your tits in his broad hands. Pushing them up like the most scandalous push-up bra would, molding them against his hands as you wriggle in his hold and you think you could curse him now. Heat starts flowing through your veins, and he has to know, feel it through the layers of clothing separating you, embarrassment and want stoked like a fire by his attention.

“So responsive,” he whispers, a thumb following the natural curve on the underside of one breast, a hot trail left in its wake, testing the plumpness of you with easy pressure.

Deftly, the soft pads of his fingers shift ever so slightly, hooking in the hem of your already low neckline, and slowly, slowly, drags the fabric down.

Stiff and aching, your nipples tighten even further as your breasts spill out and meet the cold night air.

Finally, you gasp out loud.

Anyone could look up from the garden below, see you–

Morpheus tuts, right by your ear, a quiet reminder of his earlier command.

The door handle to the bedroom is pulled down.

At once, you freeze.

You hear Josh tentatively call out your name again, peeking around the room.

Warm hands move downwards, gleaming eyes following the path from the valley between your bared breasts.

“Do you think she ran away?”

Beneath the layers of your skirts, fingers ghosts over your mons pubis, stroking your innermost thighs with a soft touch, until he’s cupping your cunt in his hand. Toying with the crease of wetness that’s obviously there, that has the gusset of your underwear sticky, fingers skirting against your folds as his palm grinds down, pressure applied to your clit.

“Be just like her to just vanish, wouldn't it?”

It feels so good, warm honey spreading across your limbs, and you’re hazy with want, body reacting with a full body rush as his touch ignites your body, a thin sheet of sweat breaking out across your skin. Even when your hand grasps around the wrist moving under your skirts, it’s half hearted – you don’t actually want him to stop. He knows exactly what makes you tick, what makes you putty in his hands.

Perhaps it would feel like losing a battle if it didn’t feel so damn good.

His touch has that effect on you – soothing the anger, overpowering it with pleasure.

The conversation, the noise, the people below in the garden, is all buzzed out from his hands on you.

Someone sighs something – and this time you hear nothing, only the small huff from Morpheus by your shoulder, the low whisper of your name as your legs start to tremble.

His head buries into your neck – incisors finding soft skin and biting down, tongue slowly alleviating the trail of stinging sharpness he leaves in his wake. A large hand comes to rest against your sternum, keeping you to him tightly, fingers tracing against your collarbones, thumb slowly drawing circles at the divot of your throat, protective, possessive.

A digit strokes around the perimeter of your still covered core, but stays withholding. You bite your lip to keep from whining, eyes squeezing shut as you swivel your hips, trying to entice it to enter you, give you anything to clench down on.

If they– if they stepped closer to the balcony, leaned out the expensive lead framed windows, they would catch you. They’d find you entangled with a stranger; one of his hands tucked under your skirt, tits out on display like a heathen. Embarrassment courses hotly through your veins, the mere prospect of getting caught making a new rush of wet soak Morpheus’ fingers.

It’s not something you should want – but it’s been part of your daydreams enough time that Morpheus has to know, has to be intrinsically aware of what this does to you, the thrill of being seen. Just how little he seems to care if someone catches you is only reinforced by the press of a digit to your center, willing you to come apart under him, coaxing– no, daring more sounds to spill from your lips.

Blood pounds in your ears, almost deafening, shutting out everything around you, making you careless–

Before the first, proper moan has time to make it past your mouth Morpheus has it covered with a hand, as if he had felt it vibrating in your throat. The ministrations between your legs don’t even pause, no reprieve awarded you. Two fingers even make it past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, muffling more sounds – it’s mere instinct, but you still suck on the digits, wrapping your lips around them.

You melt into it, into him, a puddle of want as he unravels you, working you like only he knows how to.

The click of the door shutting reverberates through the room.

Instantly, Morpheus' hand is off your mouth.

Gossamer spit still connects your mouth to his fingers. He presses them together in front of the both of you, spit glistening as he inspects them.

“You were saying?” He breathes by your ear.

The haze that’s settled over your mind is dispelled.

“Forget it.” You pull away from him with a start, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand, tugging the neckline back up over your bare chest. In the stark moonlight his eyes glimmer as if there’s stars in them as he watches you right your clothing.

“It seems you have moved on.” He remarks, too casually. As if he deliberates on congratulating you on finding someone interested in you.

“Stop it. You’re the one who hasn’t—“

A million demands for explanations, reprimands and sour, hurtful words fill your mind, all of them sitting at the tip of your tongue. A hot sting of tears also tetters dangerously on your lower lash line, ready to burst through – you force that down deep, deep inside. Gods, were you that desperate? Maybe that was why you’d thrown yourself at the first person to show you an ounce of attention as soon as the realization that Morpheus had left you settled in.

Except… he hadn’t.

He was standing in front of you, on the balcony of some Halloween party you got dragged to. Even brought a mask for the occasion.

The cold breeze lightly tousles his dark hair as he peers down at you imploringly. You knew what that hair felt like, the texture of it, had wrapped locks of it around your fingers. Had run your fingers through it, tugged and tousled and smoothed it and done everything in between to it.

Wrapping your arms around yourself now that his heat isn’t there to shield you from the chilly night air, you start again. “Is that why you’re here? Because someone took your spot?”

You wish you could text him, or had some way of contacting him that wasn’t dependent on him being receptive to your advances (or on him simply making those advances first). All this had done was leave you with a feeling of being stranded – no way of knowing when or even if he was coming back. Stuck in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean.

You huff. “It’s not like I can get a hold of you.”

“I am not available at mosts’ beck and call.” The way he says it makes you feel like you’re getting a parental scolding. “My realm is vast, my duties never ending. Other matters have needed my attention–”

Nails dig into your palms. Imprudent, you cut him off.

“If you wanted to, you would.”

He looks like he’s never been interrupted in his entire life. Probably hasn’t – being who he is.

What he is.

Oh–

Where he came from is the place between the stars and the sky, the unexplored trenches of the sea, the still hidden places of this earth that you knew nothing of.

Endless, an ebb and flow you can’t even begin to comprehend. Millenia of consciousness in one person– no, in one being.

Suddenly, you feel stupid. Infinitely small and insignificant. An amoeba in the grand scheme of things.

The tears feel a lot closer to spilling over your lash line than they did before.

“And,” Morpheus finally says, as if he’s been privy to the thoughts racing through your mind, “I tend to forget how differently time is perceived by mortals.”

It’s not an apology. But you feel as if he’s admitting something he never has to anyone else, ever.

You fight away the unbidden fat tears with the back of your hand, voice only wavering slightly. “How– how did you know where I was?”

“I haven’t been completely idle in seeing to that your well-being was kept,” he pauses, scowling at the wetness of your eyes, words hanging in the air before he continues, “up to standards.”

Not that you’ve been well – he’s not using that particular terminology to describe the state you’ve been in. Because well, you hadn’t. Probably, he knows exactly how mopey and depressed you’ve been, sitting around waiting for him to arrive, to make good on his promise.

It– it must’ve been something urgent needing his attention if he didn’t come to you, didn’t let you know, despite that.

Intuitively, you sense that he doesn’t want to discuss that with you, what had caused him to be so swallowed up he couldn’t even bother giving you a dream version of a wyd? – atleast, not now. No matter what kind of talents you may have acquired for the arcane, there were many things you didn’t understand, that you didn’t know about Morpheus.

“How?” You ask instead.

“A raven.”

“A raven?”

CAW

As if on cue, a raven takes flight. Almost silent, the large wings spread out as it takes off, the leaves from the tree it had been perched in parting softly to let the watcher in the canopy pass.

“His name is Matthew.”

The raven circles high above you, cawing again in greeting, corvid outline stark against the brightness of the full moon.

“I’ve never met a crow named Matthew.” You say, eyes stuck on the bird in the sky.

“I’ll have to introduce you.”

You laugh at that – the first unfeigned laugh of the evening, of the past weeks.

Morpheus’ face cracks, if only slightly. A secret uptick of his mouth as he takes in your smile, the sound of your joy.

Without any further prompting, you feel your walls fall. It’s disarming, seeing him again. Hearing him. Being near him. It’s as if your magnetic field shifts – you want to orbit closer to him, want to stray from your already pre-designed course if it meant being just an inch closer to him. A gravitational pull as natural as the ocean’s ebb and flow controlling the tide.

Slowly, you inch closer to Morpheus. Arms wrap around his narrow middle, pressing closer, resting the side of your head against his chest, nuzzling into the dark fabric, the feel of coarse fibers against your skin a reminder that it’s real. He feels warm — decidedly warmer than the chilly, almost November air.

You whisper into the textile, voice small as you speak, as if he’ll disappear if you let him go.

“I’ve missed you.”

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, his arms circle your frame, keeping you tight against him.

It feels wonderful, being in his arms, being close to him after so long. Breathing in his scent, as ineffable as everything about him.

The full moon sits fat and round in the sky, painting the both of you in pale light. It frames him well, you think, enhancing the dark of his hair, his gleaming eyes. The cloak, almost night itself, shields you from some of it, covers your sides as he cages your form, envelopes you.

If someone looked up from the garden, they would only see two lovers embracing.

Quick, and before you lose your nerve, you rise up on your tiptoes, giving him a peck on his chin, soft and unassuming.

At once, Morpheus has your face cradled in his hands, thumbs tracing against cheekbones, brushing away remnants of wetness still lingering, lips ghosting over your forehead, before he leans down and finally, finally, kisses you.

The wind tousles both of your hair, chilly and cold. You don’t notice it, barely feel the icy needles digging into your exposed skin – only feel the fire inside you, the molten core reginiting, atoms vibrating from the exchange of heat between you, returning the kiss in kind.

You think he missed you too.

thank u all for the love on influx<33 i am so happy so many of you liked it! please let me know your thoughts, i love comments and tags and hearing your opinions, it fuels me. let me know what worked and what didn’t.

#morpheus/dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #morpheus smut #dream of the endless #the sandman #halcyon #my writing #yes influx got a sequel. i am possessed by the spirit of this emo boy and he will not leave me alone #yes there’ll be a part 2. yes there is so much angst in here but also so much smut and fluff.#mdni

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sunriserose1023 · 10 months

Text

Point of Ignition [three]

WARNINGS: Reader's kind of an asshole at times, motorcycle riding, flirtatiousness, sexual tension, this is one continuous scene WORD COUNT: 2888

masterlist

“You’re not serious.”

You shrugged, looking over yourself in the mirror. Natasha sat cross-legged on her bed, disappointment visible on her pouting face. You turned to face her, wearing your baggiest pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Your hair was up in a very messy bun, and you were still debating on putting the hood on to cover it up.

“I am not interested in becoming just another notch on Bucky Barnes’ bedpost. If this doesn’t get the point across, I don’t know what will.”

Natasha just blinked, and you sighed as you walked over to sit on her bed.

“Hey.”

You looked back to her, meeting her eyes, seeing the soft smile on her face.

“I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you.”

Just that day, Bucky had appeared while you and Natasha were eating lunch on the quad. He’d sat beside her, but all of his focus had been on you. Teasing you, making both you and Natasha laugh, and reminding you of the date you swore wasn’t a date that night. You shook your head.

“You’ve known him for like a month.” “Long enough to see how he acts. He puts on just enough charm to melt the girls, gets what he wants, and that’s it. Not that he’s selfish or a dick or anything. The girls clearly enjoy it so—“ “So he’s a manwhore.” “Hey.”

Nat sat up.

“We do not slut shame in this house.”

You nodded and she reached to pat your hand.

“Just make it clear to him that you’re not going to have sex with him. I think he’s a good enough guy to respect that. If nothing else, you can be friends.” “Guys and girls cannot be just friends, Nat.” “What about Bruce? He and I are friends.” “You kissed in junior high.” “And that’s how we decided to just be friends.”

She stopped, then nodded.

“I see what you’re saying.”

You laughed, glancing at the clock beside your bed. Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. You got up and answered it, feeling your whole body heat when Bucky gave you a slow once-over. He nodded, smiling as he met your eyes.

“I’m so glad you didn’t dress up for me, Pidge.”

You had a flash where you felt a little bad, but before you could say anything, Bucky motioned with his head, holding the door open.

“Let’s go. I’ll have her back at a decent hour, Nat.” “Too bad.”

Bucky chuckled at Natasha’s low purr. He held out his hand and almost without thinking, you put your hand in his. Once the door had closed behind you, Bucky kept hold of your hand as the two of you started down the stairs.

“This isn’t a date.” “Whatever you say, pigeon.”

You tried to pull your hand back, but he only adjusted his grip. He glanced at you, a devastating smile on his face.

“Friends hold hands sometimes.” “Oh, we’re friends now?”

Bucky nodded as he held the door open for you. The two of you walked out of the dorm and into the parking lot.

“You came to see me fight. Bet on me and won. We partied, and I poured you into bed when you went a little hard in the paint.”

You moved your free hand to smack your forehead and Bucky chuckled.

“You were a cute drunk, Pidge.” “I don’t usually drink that much and I don’t know why I did the other night.” “Hey, you don’t have to justify anything to me.”

He let go of your hand to hold the door open for you, and you stayed beside the door as he jogged down the steps to a motorcycle.

“Come on, Pidge. It’s too far to walk.” “I’m not riding on that.” “Yes, you are. I’ve got you a helmet and everything.”

You shook your head, eyes wide as you stared at the bike. Bucky sighed as he climbed off the bike, carrying a helmet as he jogged back to you.

“Come on. I don’t have a car. It’s the bike or nothing.” “I’m going to pick nothing. See you later.”

You turned to leave, but he grabbed onto your wrist, holding steady.

“Breathe, pigeon. Your heart is racing. Are you scared?” “No!”

You answered way too quickly, and the smile on Bucky’s face was anything but mocking, which you were expecting.

“Pidge, hey. Look at me.”

You did, and his gentle smile helped you take a deep breath.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” “You don’t know that for sure.” “I’m going to do my damnedest. You’re safe with me, pigeon.”

You swallowed, looking towards the bike.

“I’ve never ridden one before.” "Nothing to it. You just hold onto me and I’ll get us where we need to go.”

You tore your eyes from the bike to meet his, and you closed your eyes as he slid the helmet on your head, buckling it under your chin. He held your hand as the two of you walked to the bike, and once he straddled it, he walked you through climbing on. You wrapped your arms around his chest like he told you to do, and when he started up the bike, you squealed and slid closer to him. He laughed, lifting a hand to touch your wrists, sliding his finger between your wrists and his chest, loosening your death grip.

“Just breathe.”

He had to yell to be heard over the bike, and since your heart was in your throat, you gave his torso a squeeze in response. You felt rather than heard him chuckle, and you tightened your hold as the bike started moving. You kept your eyes closed, resting your cheek against Bucky’s leather jacket. At one point, he moved a hand to give your knee a gentle squeeze, and you finally opened your eyes when the bike came to a stop.

Neither you or Bucky moved, but that was mainly because you couldn’t get your arms to unlock from around him. He moved to take his helmet off, shaking out his hair, then patting your hands, which were locked over his heart.

“It’s okay, Pidge. You can let go.”

You swallowed, your brain telling your arms to relax, but your arms weren’t listening.

“Or you can keep holding onto me. I really don’t mind.”

You swallowed again, hands shaking as you finally pulled them apart. Bucky took hold of one, rubbing it gently, lacing his fingers through yours and maneuvering your wrist around. He did the same with your other hand, climbing off the bike and turning to face you. He gave a quiet laugh as he unfastened your helmet, murmuring softly at your quiet gasp when the tightness of the helmet disappeared from your temples. You stared up at him and he smiled, cupping your face in his hands.

“Just breathe.”

You did, staring into his pale blue eyes. He held your gaze with one side of his lips turned up in a smirk and you shook your head to break the trance. You climbed off the bike, stumbling into his waiting arms.

“Easy, Pidge. Your equilibrium might be off for a bit.” “I’m … I’m fine.” “Just take a second.”

You did, since your heart was still racing, and your head was spinning a bit. Bucky lifted a hand to cup the back of your head, holding you close, and you decided to allow it, just for a second.

“You’ll love this place. You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”

You shook your head, stepping back from his embrace. He reached to take your hand, leading you into the restaurant. The lighting inside was dim, red checkered tablecloths on all of the tables. A few people called out hello as Bucky waved, pointing and smiling as he led you to a booth near a window. You slid into the booth, touching the holder where salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, and Parmesan cheese sat. Bucky laid a menu in front of you, nodding at it when you looked at him.

“You can order something if you want, or you can trust me.” “I don’t even know you.”

He grinned.

“That’s why we’re here, right?” “It’s not a date.” “Did I say it was?”

You raised an eyebrow, the smile never fading from his face.

“I just said dinner. You’re the one assuming.” “I am not!”

He chuckled, leaning back and spreading his arms over the back of his side of the booth. You rolled your eyes before looking down at the menu.

“The Alfredo is fucking divine. The lasagna will make you want to kiss the chef, and Antonia's friendly enough to let you.”

You bit your lip to stop the smile you wanted to give, studying the menu as you spoke.

“What do you get?”

“You gonna trust me, Pidge?”

You raised an eyebrow as you lifted your eyes to his. He grinned again as he bounced his eyebrows, and you couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes. You closed the menu, pushing it towards him.

“Alright, Barnes. I’m all in.”

“Don’t tease me with poker terms, Pidge. You’ll make me declare my love for you right here and now.”

You swallowed the terror that suddenly appeared at the back of your throat, wishing you had a glass of water. As if he could read your mind, a waiter appeared at the table with two glasses of water and a basket of bread.

“Signore Barnes! Molto bene, good to see you! Antonia was wondering when we would see you again. And who is this bellissima?”

You widened your eyes when Bucky said your actual name to the waiter. He winked at you as he continued to talk.

“She’s new here, so we’ve got to treat her right, si?” “Oh, certamente! Let me go talk to chef and we will take care of you!”

The waiter left in a hurry, and you waited for Bucky to turn his eyes to you.

“So you do know my name.” “And that will be the only time you hear me use it, pigeon.”

You pursed your lips.

“Am I annoying to you? Is that why you call me pigeon?”

Bucky smiled.

“No, that’s not why. I’ll tell you one day, if you’re lucky.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. Bucky laced his hands together, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

“So, pigeon. Tell me more about you.” "No.” “If you want me to just sit here and look at you, I can.” “Oh my god, do any of these lines ever work for you?” “To tell you the truth, I don’t usually need a line.”

You reached for your glass of water.

“Girls just fall at your feet?” “Honestly? Yes.”

You didn’t spit out the sip you’d just taken, which was surprising to you. You turned wide eyes to him and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not trying to be obnoxious, but I know how I look, Pidge. I put a lot of work into it. Girls happen to appreciate it and I appreciate them. That sometimes falls into a category we can both find mutually beneficial.”

You slowly nodded, taking another sip of your drink in the short silence.

“So you sleep around?” “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

You laced your fingers together and leaned forward, copying his positioning.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” “Never say never, pigeon.”

You shook your head.

“How do you feel about girls who sleep around?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Long as everybody’s on board, who cares? If it makes you happy and it’s not hurting anyone, you do you.”

You pursed your lips and Bucky leaned forward, a smile on his mouth.

“I’m no sexist, Pidge. Nice try on attempting to catch me, though.”

You tried to stifle the smile, but you couldn’t help it when Bucky chuckled.

“As you’ve said a few times now, you don’t know me. But, I don’t know you either.”

Bucky glanced over at the bread basket before looking back to you.

“I was raised by a good man and a good woman who let me think for myself, but steered me in the right directions. I’m not so full of myself that I think I’m God’s gift to women, fucking whoever I can while a woman doing the same thing is a slut. What’s good for the goose and all that. If you want to sleep around and you enjoy it, go for it.”

He smiled as he leaned closer to you, giving you a wink.

“And let me go ahead and volunteer for that.”

You groaned as you leaned back, and Bucky laughed from across the table. You shook your head as you leaned forward again.

“I am not sleeping with you.” “Now, or ever?” “Ever.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side.

“Aw, come on, Pidge. Don’t be like that.”

You rolled your eyes until he reached across the table, laying his hand on your wrist. He opened his mouth, closing it and pulling his hand back as the waiter appeared back at the table with two plates in his hand.

“Chef insisted. And you better make sure to share with bellissima, capice?”

Bucky nodded as he smiled at the waiter. The man set a plate before Bucky and another before you, then clasped his hands together.

“Buon appetito.”

You looked at Bucky as the waiter walked away, and he picked up a fork, stabbing at the slab of lasagna on his plate.

“Oh my god, Pidge. You’ve got to taste this.”

You blinked at the sudden rush of heat in your belly, shaking your head as you picked up your own fork. You studied the pasta before you, twirling some around your fork and sliding it into your mouth.

“Oh my God.” “Right?”

You gave a happy moan as you twirled more pasta, closing your eyes as you chewed. You opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you, empty fork poised above his plate.

“What?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Noth—nothing. Here.”

He cut a bit of lasagna onto his fork, holding a hand under it as he leaned across the table. You looked at the fork, then at him, leaning forward while keeping your eyes locked on his and eating the bite he was offering. You watched his jaw go slack, giving a soft moan as you chewed.

“This food is fantastic.”

Bucky slowly nodded.

“Yeah, the … the food is … it’s good.”

You bit your tongue to keep from laughing out loud. You twirled some more pasta, eating as you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. After a moment, you twirled some pasta onto your fork and held it out.

“Want some?”

Bucky swallowed.

“More than you could imagine.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, but it trailed off as he leaned over, taking the bite from your fork and chewing slowly.

“Damn good, Pidge.”

You nodded, flustered as you looked back down at your plate. The two of you ate in silence, and you didn’t put up much of a fight when Bucky insisted on paying. Once you were outside, Bucky slid his hand into yours, steering you away from his motorcycle, towards the sidewalk. After a moment of silence, you spoke.

“I feel bad that you paid for everything on this non-date.” "Date or not, if I ask a woman to do something with me, I pay.” “Does that include—“ “No, Pidge, I do not pay for sex.”

You gave a quiet laugh as he smiled.

“Listen.”

You turned your head towards him, an expectant look on your face. Bucky stopped walking, moving in front of you, lifting the hand he was holding to his chest. With his other hand, he reached to slip a strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun behind your ear.

“You’ve got to feel something here. I can’t be the only one, right?”

You smiled, reaching up to push a piece of hair back behind his ear, just like he’d done for you.

“You feel something here because I haven’t fallen at your feet. Because I am definitely not going to bed with you. You’re not used to a challenge, and that’s why you think you’re feeling something here.”

He stared into your eyes as he slowly nodded.

“So it’s definitely a no, then?” “Definitely.”

Bucky nodded again, understanding filling his blue eyes as he moved your hands away from his chest, still keeping hold of your hand.

“I’m not one of those guys who’ll just keep hounding you ‘til I get you under me, Pidge. No means no, right?” “Right.” “Then … we’ll be friends?”

You cocked your head to the side as you studied him, and he smiled again.

“I mean, with Nat and Sam the way they are, we’re bound to be hanging out all the time. Might as well be friends since you’ve broken my heart.”

You smacked his chest and he laughed.

“I did not break your heart. Blue balls do not equal a broken heart.”

Bucky laughed again, letting go of your hand and throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Oh, Pidge. This is the start of a beautiful friendship. I just know it.”

PREVIOUS//NEXT

#point of ignition series #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #marvel au #reader insert #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #female reader insert #college au #mcu

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morallyinept · 27 days

Text

A full transcribe of JAVIER PEÑA'S dialogue/lines from the TV show NARCOS.

S3/E6 - BEST LAID PLANS

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

(Narration) The Cali cartel is an almost perfect organism. Even though we had cut off its head, the body kept right on going, making and selling cocaine. They stuck to the plan. And for a long time, the plan had worked for them.

(Narration) But no plan is perfect. Especially when you deal with a substance as volatile as cocaine. At some point… you’re gonna make a mistake. And your enemies are watching and waiting. They’re gonna see your weakness and make a move. See, that’s the thing about plans. No matter how perfect you think they are… however brilliant or audacious they may be… well, they can still go to shit when that one thing goes wrong. And once that happens, there’s no going back. It’s all downhill from there.

__________________

Franklin Jurado. One testimony from him and he can take down the entire Cali cartel. He travels on multiple passports. So, he gets on a flight, we lose him who the fuck knows where. I need him on a plane today so that he’s testifying in Miami tomorrow.

Okay, typically he goes to a cooperative credit bank and then has breakfast. We sit on it and get him there.

Mm-hmm.

__________________

(Narration) So, here’s what you need to know about Curaçao. It’s a smugglers paradise. And for the Cali cartel, you can’t beat the location. Only 40 miles separates South American coast from Curaçaon ports, prized for centuries by smugglers, slave traders, and now cartels. Cruise ships filled with old people next to speed boats filled with cash. And what doesn’t get smuggled through, it ends up in banks. Hundreds of them. Way back, some enterprising Dutchmen set up a financial system cloaked in old-world secrecy. Their economy is so dependent on money launderers parking their cash, that you can make an arrest, just not at or near a bank. Of course, where do you think Franklin spent most of his time?

__________________

All right, we tail him. And then we catch him somewhere that suits us both.

Okay.

__________________

(Narration) Now why would a Cali godfather come out of hiding and risk getting captured? Because what good is being the king if nobody knows it? The biggest thing to come out of Cali wasn’t cocaine. It was salsa. And every year, the two combined at the annual Feria de Cali, a week-long extravaganza of parties and salsa concerts. And the man who always presided over the opening-night festivities? Gilberto Rodríguez. But with him in jail, it was time for a new king.

__________________

Stop! Hey!

Hey! Come here!

Get the back. Get the back.

Fuck!

Don’t run.

Franklin Jurado. Javier Peña, DEA. You’re being extradited for money laundering and racketeering.

She’s in Bogatá. She’ll meet us in Miami.

We got him. I’d like to get him into the United States before the cartel knows he’s in custody.

Yeah, will do, sir.

__________________

You know what I’d be thinking about if I were you, Franklin? That if your wife wants to see you… she’s gonna see you in jail. Drive hours every week. Get felt up by some sweaty guard whose only highlight at work is getting his hands under your wife’s dress.

(In Spanish) No… I can just ruin your life. You know the brothers. Pretty well. What do you think will happen to them without Gilberto running things? You’re young, Franklin. You have your whole life ahead of you. You really want to spend it in a cell. Talk to me. I’ll get you a deal. You and Christina… can start over. Have a new life. In the United States.

Okay.

__________________

Peña.

Yeah, they’re ours.

Are you with them?

They’re meant to protect you. Have you talked to anyone?

We arrested Franklin.

Christina, listen to me.

Listen to me.

Christina. You want it? This is it. As soon as we hang up the phone, you get yourself to the American Embassy. You don’t talk to anyone, you don’t call anyone. You get yourself there.

__________________

We start with just the basics. Okay? Where they move the money, where they keep the money.

Let me guess. His fucking lawyer?

Yeah. Your client has indicated he’s open to a deal in exchange for testimony.

No. I’ve just spoken with his wife. She’s on her way to the embassy in Bogotá.

__________________

(Narration) Things don’t always go according to plan. You can use every hope and prayer you have, take your shot, and everything still goes to shit. And when that happens, it’s almost like you never had a plan at all. That’s when people get desperate. And things get dangerous.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #javier pena dialogue

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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 year

Note

I saw the post about accepting Yoongi drabble requests, can you combine "please come back" with "I haven't moved on"?

I hope that's not too sad!

title: begin again pairing: yoongi x gn!reader genre: writer/producer!yoongi, non-idol!au, exes to (possibly) lovers, some angst with a hopeful ending warnings: mentions of drinking/being at a bar, yoongi and reader are exes, but i promise this is not sad throughout word count: ~1.7k rating: teen and up note: happy birthday @hot-soop ily so so much! thank you to the anon who sent this in. i don't *think* it came out too sad, but i'll see how much bee yells at me for it and then judge.

You’re a little nervous, to say the least. Have been since you got the invitation to this party. Excited too, because if there’s anyone in this world that deserves this kind of happiness, it’s your friend, Namjoon. You’re thrilled that he found his person and so appreciative that he wants you at his engagement celebration. So, of course, you accepted immediately.

It’s just…well you haven’t seen Yoongi in over three years. Not since the final argument that ended your relationship. Not since you promised that walking away was best for both of you and that there genuinely weren’t going to be any hard feelings. No, you would be mature about this, stay in touch and support each other as you chased your respective dreams. A nice idea, in theory, but not so much in actual practice. There were the occasional texts in the month or so after and then those faded and neither one of you made the effort to keep it up. Like you both knew it would go this way.

It wasn’t like you were in some kind of black hole, though, where you avoided ever hearing about what he was up to. You still had several mutual friends, like Namjoon, who would post pictures from trips or nights out. Then there was the fact that Yoongi had gained traction, like he always wanted, and was writing and producing for some very big names. Even without seeing the credits, you always know when he’s worked on something. You’ve spent enough time listening to his work to be able to hear him in anything he touches. Like a signature even if he doesn’t realize he’s leaving it. It hurts, how could it not? But you’re also proud, so proud, that he’s doing exactly what he always wanted.

At the same time, part of you wonders. Would he have gotten this successful if you’d stayed together? He’s talented, unbelievably so, and yet there are a lot of talented people who never get the kinds of breaks Yoongi did. Maybe it’s best for your own mental well-being to assume that the decision you both made three years ago was for the best.

Your eyes are on the door, have been since you got here. Every time it opens, your breath catches, only to come rushing out when it’s not Yoongi. Part of you wonders if he’ll show up at all before remembering that this is his best friend’s engagement party. Of course, he’ll be here. This is a big night and he’s always been there for Namjoon.

It’s kind of funny, actually, how everything works. You’re stuck in your own head, brain going a million miles a minute thinking of Yoongi and all the things you used to know. Wondering if they’re all still true. So caught up in your thoughts that you miss the door opening. Miss Yoongi showing up. Miss the way his eyes land on you almost immediately. Miss the slight frown as he works out if he should approach you immediately or get a drink first.

By the time he’s gotten a drink, you finally notice him approaching you and wonder, for a second, how he managed to blend in so well. But then, he’s never been one for drawing attention, never been one for loud scenes. You find yourself absently smoothing down the fabric of your dress. At least it gives you a second to catch your breath and prepare.

“Hey,” he says, far too softly given that you’re in a bar. Though you hear him anyway.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” you say. He smiles and you do too. Your voice sounds more even than you expect.

“Joon-ah said you’d be here,” Yoongi says.

“Yeah, well, it was nice of him to invite me,” you say and grimace. The words feel all wrong coming out of you.

“This is a little awkward,” Yoongi admits with that same smile he gets when he’s unsure of something.

“I knew you’d be here and part of me wanted to talk to you,” you begin.

“And the other part?” Yoongi prompts.

“Scared out of my mind,” you finish.

Yoongi is thoughtful as he gazes at you. “Me too.”

Seeing Yoongi before you is both weird and also the most normal thing in the world all at the same time. He’s both a stranger and the person you know best in the world. You know that he’s changed, you both have, but how different can someone like Yoongi, so averse to big changes, really be?

So you do what you said you’d do all along. You catch up on each other’s lives, make small talk, start to fill in the missing pieces of the last three years. Yoongi tells you a little about the music he’s making, smiles that gummy smile when you say you think you’ve probably heard it all. Smiles again when you say that you can hear him in everything he’s worked on. He can’t believe how happy you are for him and for everything he’s done, after all this time. But you are, how could you not be? It hasn’t all been easy, he says. Sometimes the artists are difficult or his songs don’t get selected and that’s a hard pill to swallow. It’s still everything he wanted from his career, though. He’s almost careful the way he emphasizes career.

When he gets tired of the attention, all too soon in your opinion, he turns to you. There’s a softness in his eyes when he says that he wants to know what you’ve been up to as well. It’s so genuine, so entirely Yoongi. And you hear the truth of what he’s asking: did you get to chase your dreams? You did. You went back to school, chasing that perfect job, and managed to work while you were doing it. When things felt a little overwhelming, you traveled to visit friends you’d lost touch with and new friends you’d picked up along the way. Got to see beautiful things in the world both by yourself and with people you cared about. You realize you’re also being careful with where you put the emphasis. It’s on traveling more than the people.

There’s a lightness to talking like this, a lightness that you’re not sure you felt in the aftermath of the breakup. Where it should feel awkward to see him now, to talk like nothing bad ever happened, it only felt easy. Mostly it just feels like sitting across from the person who always knew you best in the world. Who could always tell how you were feeling without words. Maybe not so much had changed after all. Sure, you were older, wiser, a little more sure of yourself. But fundamentally, you weren’t really that different from the person who fell in love with the boy with big dreams and an impossible way with words.

You and Yoongi find yourselves sitting together through the toasts, except for when Yoongi stands to make his, on behalf of his best friend. The two of you stick together when going to the bar, stick together when you sit to have some of the passed hors d’oeuvers, just generally don’t seem to want to part.

It’s not until things start winding down that you realize you’ve barely spoken to anyone else. Of course, you congratulated Namjoon and his partner, told them for the millionth time what a beautiful couple they make and thanked them for the invite. You greet all the people you know since most of them are just casual acquaintances. But you don’t linger anywhere with anyone, except for Yoongi.

Now that it’s time to leave, you’re not really sure how to end things with Yoongi. Your heart feels lighter and you’re not really sure what any of that means.

“I really should be heading out,” you say, feeling awkward for the first time since Yoongi greeted you.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a second, so you turn to grab your jacket. That’s when you feel his hand on your arm, gentle enough that you could pull away. Instead, your eyes find his. “Please come back,” he says softly, too soft again for this environment.

“Yoon,” you plead.

“I don’t know if we made the right decision three years ago. Sometimes it feels like we did, like we both needed the space. Other times, I really fucking hated not having someone there to celebrate the milestones with me. My first song, first album, first hit, hell, even my birthdays,” he fires off.

“You could have had that,” you reason and ignore the way his face falls.

“I couldn’t have,” he disagrees.

“Why not?” You think you know the emotions on his face. But it’s been three years, so how can you really be sure?

“Because I haven’t moved on,” he says. “Not really, I couldn’t. I knew as soon as you left that I wouldn’t be able to.”

“I don’t…” you start and fumble to find the words.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi says. “I’ve known since I heard you were coming that I was going to find a way to tell you that. I’ve been able to plan.”

“Were you the reason that Namjoon invited me?” you ask.

“No, he asked if it was okay and I just agreed,” Yoongi says.

“I know I need to say…something,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“Not right now. When we were together…” Yoongi trails off, searching for the words. “Well, I wasn’t always the best at letting you inside my head. It was always easier for me to put it to writing. It still is.”

You both chuckle a little at that because it’s so true, at least it was. Yoongi always needed to sort his feelings out by writing, but sometimes you still weren’t sure what he meant.

“I’m better at it now, though. So I’d like a chance to see you again, to say all the things we left unsaid and all the things I wish I could’ve said back then,” Yoongi says and you go to interject. “I’m not expecting anything, I just really would like the chance.”

“Okay,” is all you can say. But his whole face lights up and your heart constricts.

“Okay?” he repeats.

“Yeah, okay. I’m not promising anything either, but there’s a lot to talk about and it’s been really nice seeing you tonight,” you admit.

Yoongi smiles again, big and genuine, eyes sparkling. “Okay.”

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bangtantheatrenet #kvanity #btswritersclub #thekpopuniverse #btshoneyhive

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chweverni · 7 months

Text

Mate (pt.2) - the get together.

pairing; joshua hong x reader

synopsis; jeon yeon-du had to ruin your dress and maybe your mindset with what she said at the party, how are you dealing with all this?

word count; 858 words

author's note; pt.2 is out!! i think i'll add two more parts and we'll be done with this fic :)) comment for me to notify you <3 read part one here.

pt. 3 -> what are we?

you were now sitting on the ground, by the mini lake in the park. the street lights illuminated the deep, dark and still water. you picked up a flat stone, and attempted to skip rocks on the water, but well, it sank instead.

It's just a crush anyway. you thought to yourself. just give it some time, and all this will be better. you got this y/n!

‘New text from joshie!”, your phone vibrated. you hesitated to open the text, but you opened it anyway because it wasn’t his fault.

—

joshie 🐣: did you leave? (1)

you didn’t even stay for dinner (2)

i’m sad now (3)

can we call? (4)

wanna know if something happened (5)

—

you sighed, as you saw your phone ring again. you picked it up.

“hello? y/n! are you okay?,”

your eyes watered a bit, and maybe yeon-du was right. joshua was and would always be a good friend but never more than that.

you inhaled deep, mustering up the courage to even produce a few words.

“yeah, I just needed some fresh air. Uhm, did the party end already?”, you asked, resorting to your habit of pulling on the grass out of nervousness.

“mm-hmm, I called it off. someone spilled a lot of soda near the fridge, and a few even threw up. I’m never holding a party, ever again! birthday dinners are way better,” joshua said; you could almost imagine the cute pout on his face while saying all this. you chuckled lightly.

“my mom always held birthday dinners instead of parties as a child. i guess that’s why I wanted to leave early. sorry joshie,” you replied, sniffing as your nose became stuffed due to your failed attempt at crying by the lake.

“where are you? should I come over?”

you checked the time – 20:05 hours.

well, it is a bit late right now. you texted him your location and went to the entrance of the park, wiping you wet face for the one last time.

joshua came walking a few minutes later. he’s changed into some comfortable clothes. he waved as soon as he saw your face and his pace increased.

“Y/f/n Y/n, what’s that on your dress?! did you fall? i don’t think period blood can creep up your chest!”, joshua spoke, with pure concern in his eyes.

you smiled, “It’s nothing, really. someone bumped into me and spilled all of this.”

“doesn’t it stick to your body though? and it’s freezing cold out here! we ought to get you some fresh clothes to wear. come on, let’s go!”, joshua rambled as he grabbed your wrist.

your heart skipped a beat.

—

“are you sure this fits?”, you asked.

“It’s the best I can do!”, joshua shouted through the bathroom door. he offered you a white tee and his pajamas to wear. you stepped out after removing your pretty ruined make-up off of your face.

“where’d you keep my clothes?”, you asked as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll wash it and give it back. and no, this one’s on me. my parents warned me about throwing a party,” joshua spoke, with that awfully kind smile he always wore on his stupidly adorable face.

his room was well organized. It had a few posters of some rock bands he liked, a shelf full of physics books, frames of certificates he earned in various competitions — a golden child, indeed. you were in awe.

joshua cleared his throat to avert your gaze towards him.

“wanna reheat the food and eat it while watching a movie?”, he suggested. you agreed.

—

joshua asked you to choose a movie, while he reheated the food. you ended up re-watching the 20th century girl and oh boy, the scene was to look at. both dorks, shoved spoonful of rice up their mouths, as you sobbed as the ending was purely unfair!

duddenly, joshua’s phone vibrated. he scooted closer to you on the couch and checked the notification.

—

Yeon-du : why’d you invite that nerd to your party anyway? (1)

—

you felt awkward at what you saw and joshua quickly discarded his phone. he put down his bowl of fried rice as he stared at you in silence. you held back your tears and he read that pretty well.

“you remind me of me in middle school, you know?”, joshua added out of the blue.

it was now your turn to stare at joshua, but in pure confusion.

“I was basically a plaything for people to poke fun at in middle school. but then I went through this sweet glow up,” he batted his eyelashes which made you snort,” and suddenly, at high school, everyone sees me as their hallway crush!”

he held your hand.

“you were probably the first person I met her who despised me just ‘cause I solved a sudoku puzzle. Thank you,” he shot his infectious smile at you.

“y/n, would you promise me one thing?”, joshua asked.

“depends on what you’re asking for,” you replied, looking at him.

“promise me you’ll never, ever be sad around me; as long as we’re beside each other, we’ll be happy. all right?”

thanks for reading, come back for pt.3, okay? ;)

all creds to @chweverni on tumblr <3

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong fluff #joshua seventeen #joshua hong #joshua x reader

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simplyholl · 1 year

Text

Across the Multiverse Pt. 4 [Loki x F Reader]

Summary: Y/N and Loki’s relationship takes an unexpected turn after one of Stark’s parties. When they are sent on a mission to find their multiversal selves, will they realize they should be together?

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F Avenger Reader

*The car scene is a little nod to @lokisgoodgirl‘s Clandestine F*cks Collection. I wrote that scene just for you as a little thank you for everything. ILY bunches and I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it wasn’t for you.

The caption for the picture is lyrics from “Call It What You Want” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Incorrect use of multiverse travel.

W/C: 2.7K

Loki has been mad at me since we got back. It didn’t help matters that when we found Universe 322’s me, Bucky answered her door. She came out behind him barely dressed with just fucked hair. But that wasn’t me, Loki has taken it to heart though. He makes a snide comment every time Bucky is in the same room as me.

I’m downstairs waiting for my ride to mine and Natasha’s interview. “Hey kid, change of plans. Natasha had to go on a mission with Clint. So, you’ll be doing your interview with Reindeer Games.” My heart falls into my ass as Loki walks over to us dressed in a skintight Henley shirt. The fabric clings to his frame leaving nothing to the imagination. I’m so mad at myself for still being attracted to him despite him acting like an asshole for a month.

“Wait Tony, isn’t there someone else who could come with me?’ “No Y/N, everyone else is busy. Well except for me, and I’m not going. What’s the problem anyway? I thought you two were best friends forever. Uh oh, a lover’s quarrel perhaps?” “NO!” Loki and I answer a little too quickly. Tony smiles knowingly at us. “Just play nice for the cameras. Give them what they want. You know, really play to the crowd.”

I’m nervous to be on this talk show. Robin, the host always asks the most scandalous questions. Her show is known for getting gossip out of celebrities and superheroes alike. Last time the Avengers were on her show, she got Bruce to admit he was dating Natasha. I’m surprised Nick Fury let Loki be on today, God of Mischief and all that.

Robin sits across from the white sofa Loki and I are on. Old pictures from my Instagram are blown up on the screen behind us. The pictures are of me and Loki with silly filters on our faces, playing in the snow, and my favorite. We had a little too much to drink in his room and we decided to document the evening. I’m sitting in his lap, his long arms wrapped around me holding me tightly against his torso. He has his lips pressed against my cheek in a playful kiss. And I am smiling like a lovesick fool. I even captioned it “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night” with a green heart emoji. In my defense, we were listening to Taylor Swift’s Reputation album that night. At least, that’s the excuse I used when the girls bombarded me with accusations after I posted it.

Robin gestures to the pictures. “You two are the cutest couple! Y/N, how long have you been banging the most mysterious Avenger?” I can’t help my blushing cheeks. The nerve of this woman. “We are not a couple and we have never been intimate.” I lie, crossing my fingers behind my back. Robin doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. “Look at him, Y/N. There must have been at least one late night where there was a lingering glance that quickly turned into more.” The audience is on the edge of their seats waiting for my answer. I look to Loki for help. He just smiles at me, and I could swear he is trying not to laugh. Asshole. “I won’t deny that Loki is attractive.”

The whistles and cheers from the crowd confirm my statement. Loki stands up gesturing to his face and body. The cheers grow louder. He finally takes his seat. “But there is nothing between us except for friendship. No lingering glances, no hookups, nothing.” “Boo! You’re no fun! You know your fans ship you two together, right? Here’s a thread about you two we found.”

She displays it on the screen. There are photos I didn’t know existed of us walking, eating, holding hands. The comment section is filled with statements like “Everyone knows they are dating. Why hide it?” “The chemistry between them is smoldering. I was at the table beside them, and I thought I would catch on fire from it.” “Have you seen how he looks at her?”

Robin reads each one making me more uncomfortable by the second. This is all too much. Loki notices and places his hand on mine. I feel better instantly. Robin finally makes it to the end of the thread. “Well, if you’re telling the truth, and you’re not an item, let us at least see your first kiss. We would love that, wouldn’t we?” The audience chants “Kiss her” as I look at Loki trying to figure a way out of this. Surely, he will come up with something. He hasn’t wanted to be near me, let alone kiss me.

He whispers in my ear, “We might as well, darling. What was it Stark said, give them what they want?” Loki grabs my face as he leans down to reach my lips. Soft kisses turn into hungry ones as he slides his tongue in my mouth. The audience is whistling and shouting, but I’m not paying attention. It’s all I can do to keep from drowning in the passionate way his lips glide with mine. My hands are in his hair, and I’m pretty sure I moaned too loudly. Loki breaks the kiss gently placing his thumb against my bottom lip as his eyes search mine. He places his lips against me again and again. Each time I think he is done; his soft lips are on me once more. It’s like he can’t help himself. When he finally stops, I am breathless.

As soon as we get in the car, both our phones start blowing up. Loki answers his. Tony’s voice comes over the speaker frantically shouting. “What the hell were you thinking?” Loki answers calmly, “You told us to play nice for the cameras, Stark. I was merely following instruction.” “I meant don’t fight with each other on live TV, not shove your tongue down her throat in front of the world!” Loki laughs as he hangs up on him mid- rant. He asks me if I’m going to the party tonight and I tell him probably not. “It’s probably for the best. After that kiss, the ladies will be falling at my feet tonight.” I look out the window the whole way home, holding back tears.

Tonight is Tony’s infamous lingerie party. The guys have been looking forward to it for months. The girls and I went shopping for our outfits weeks ago. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t buy mine with Loki in mind. I think I’m going to stay in tonight. Seeing Loki with models in their underwear is too much for my heart to handle.

Wanda and Natasha show up at my room with drinks. They can’t stop gushing about the kiss. Tears start streaming down my face uncontrollably. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about me and Loki, but now I don’t have a choice. They are just as confused as I am, especially after that kiss. It seemed too real.

“You have to go to the party now, Y/N.” Wanda encourages me. “Yeah, you have to show him what he’s missing.” Natasha decides we have to get ready together. Wanda is doing my makeup. Natasha styles my hair. When they have finished my makeover, I am completely impressed. I have never been hotter.

My hair hangs down in soft waves. My smoky eyes are accentuated by little jewels along the wings of my eyeliner. My false eyelashes are a little heavy. They will take a while to get used to. My lacy, black lingerie clings to my body in all the right places. The wire in the cups of my bra push my breasts up to make them look bigger and more perky. The cheeky panties are almost see through. They are tied on the side with little black bows. Natasha helps fasten my garters to my stockings. Wanda finds my sexiest heels in the back of my closet. I’m definitely dressed for revenge.

When we arrive at the party, it’s not hard to spot Loki. He is sitting on the sofa, all the hottest girls gathered around him. There are two on his lap for heaven’s sake. I look at the girls for encouragement. We walk over to the sofa across from him. He unapologetically checks me out. He only takes his eyes off me when one of the women in his lap clears her throat. All of them are glaring at me, mad because I stole his attention, if only for a moment. “I didn’t think you would be in attendance tonight, pet.” Loki says coldly.

I smile at him sweetly, moving my hair to reveal the spot on my neck he loved to mark. His eyes darken. “Well, I thought I’d come to check out all the available men. Tony invites the most alluring bachelors to this party every year. As you know, I am so single right now. Actually, I thought I’d take a page out of your book and bring back someone to warm my bed. Maybe a doctor. “You and I both know someone like that could never please you. You like playing with danger, pet.”

“How could you possibly know what would please me, Loki?” I can tell I’ve struck a nerve. He grips the arm of the sofa tightly making the thick veins on his hands stick out. Loki stands up forgetting the girls in his lap. They are thrown to the floor with a thud. I try my best not to laugh, but a little giggle escapes me. He doesn’t even acknowledge them, just takes a long stride to step over them. He grabs my hand jerking me off the couch. A cloud of green smoke surrounds us.

Suddenly, we are in the library. He circles behind me like a lion stalking his prey. I gasp when his hand tangles in my hair while the other shoves me face first against a table. The cold surface makes me shiver. His fingers pull my panties to the side. Quick fingers swipe my entrance finding me soaked. He plunges into me with a hard thrust. I grasp the side of the table. My right cheek finally getting used to the cold surface. I’m overwhelmed from how deep he is and how full I feel in this position. His strong legs nudge mine spreading me wider. Long fingers grip my hip roughly as he drives into me. He places his other hand to my lips. “Suck.” He commands slipping two slender digits in my mouth. I run my tongue over them tasting myself. I suck on the tips while I take everything, he gives me. “Who knows exactly how to please you?” “You… Loki” I pant. “I can’t hear you, pet. Who is it that makes you feel this way? Who makes this pretty pussy so full?” “You, Loki. Only you.” He thrusts harder, chants of his name fill the room as we both unravel.

This is our week off from the mission while some of the others go. Since the night in the library, Loki and I have barely left his room. I’m disappointed because we have to go to dinner with Scott and Thor. Not because I don’t want to go, but it means I won’t be alone with Loki. In the car, Loki and I sit in the back while Thor drives. I have a feeling he is up to something when he sits in the middle beside me instead of on the other side.

Loki tells me to put my seat belt on when the car starts moving. I’m still pouting about having to leave the comfort of his bed, so I refuse. He leans over me bringing the seat belt across my chest. His fingers graze my breasts through the thin fabric of my dress. His green eyes fixed on me as the click rings throughout the car. His hand grips my thigh. His fingers hold so tightly it could bruise. “Can you be quiet for me?” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath sends chills down my body.

I whisper yes, confusion written on my face. His intentions are clear when his hand travels up my thigh. “No panties?” he questions. I give him a mischievous smile. He places one expert finger on my clit circling. I bite my lip trying not to make a sound. The moan I tried and failed to hold back came out like a squeak. Thor’s attention is on us now. “What is the matter, Y/N?” he asks concern lacing his voice. Scott is curious now too. He turns around. “Brother, keep your eyes on the road. I have fought many battles and survived. I will not die by your hand. Y/N is fine. She was merely remembering a rather sad moment from one of her books. She seeks comfort from me. Allow her some privacy.” Loki places his free hand on my head guiding me to his shoulder. Thor and Scott must believe him, because they face forward.

Loki leans down whispering “Hush now, darling. I thought you could be silent. Do you wish for me to stop?” I shake my head no, grabbing his wrist desperately trying to hold his hand in place. He slips two slender fingers inside. His rough palm rubs against my clit. I buck my hips against him quietly whining against his neck. He pumps his fingers in and out. “So tight. I cannot wait to be inside you tonight, Y/N.” His thumb works against me as he hooks his fingers inside hitting my g-spot. I bite down on his shoulder my grip on his wrist tightens as I come undone. My eyes are watering. That was so intense. It was almost too much without making a sound. Loki’s thumb quickly brushes the stray tears away.

He places a soft kiss to my cheek. “that’s my good girl.” He purrs. He gently removes his fingers from me. He brings his hand to his mouth. Placing the two that were just inside me to his tongue. He sucks them clean; a small moan escapes his lips. Scott turns around giving Loki a questioning look. He notices the fingers Loki quickly removes from his lips. “Hey! I didn’t know you had snacks. No fair! The wait for the restaurant was over an hour when I called. I will starve to death by then!” “I never share what is mine, Lang. Especially when it is the most delicious of treats.” He smirks glancing at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. I just smile at Scott and try not to melt into my seat.

The team decided to let loose and have a few drinks together tonight. That quickly turned into mostly everyone being outrageously drunk. Thor passes his flask of Asgardian liquor to the Super Soldiers. Loki is sitting with Tony and Sam. I hear an outburst of laughter from that area, so I walk over. “Where is my girl?” Loki slurs.

“Who is your girl, Laufeyson? We didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Sam laughs. Loki ignores him looking around the room. “Where the hell is my sweet girl?! She better not be anywhere near Barnes!” Loki shouts. Bucky throws his hands up defensively, a smile spreading across his face. I go over to Loki to make sure he is okay. “Ah, there she is.” He pulls me into his lap. His arms hold me tightly to him. He places small kisses to my hair. “Um, Loki we should get you back to your room. You need to go to sleep, or you’ll feel awful tomorrow.”

“Excellent idea, my love. I can’t wait to have you in my bed again.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. I place one of his arms over my shoulder helping him to the elevators. When we get to his room, I walk him over to his bed. I pull off one large boot, then the next. He helps me by pulling his shirt off while I work on removing his pants. He grabs my hand placing it over his heart. “Y/N, I lo- “ he stops for a moment searching my face. “I’ll, I’ll see you in the morning.” He rolls over, the sounds of his snoring fill the room while I slide under the blankets beside him.

Part Five