#like?? what the fuck?? people that don’t like a thing should just block and move on
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/9w1ft/748915046455934976/what-do-you-think-is-making-her-miserable-if-not?source=share
Hey i hope you're having a nice day just want to ask something related to your answer here about her having monumental setbacks in her plans what do you think those monumental setbacks could be? Or what are the factors that make them happen? Thanks😁
hope you’re having a nice day too! here is some of what what i was referring to:
kissgate 2014 — being filmed by a complete stranger and having it go viral on the internet (and on daytime tv), forcing her hand with karlie before she was ready.
the 2016 election upset — she had been rebuilding her public relationship with karlie and was clearly taking steps to incorporate their circles, performing songs at mikey’s birthday and even had austin walking around the block with josh for pictures. the election upset, where trump won when the world thought clinton would win, forced her hand with karlie from a political angle that she wasn’t prepared for
the masters being bought by scooter in 2019 — she had been slowly rebuilding her public relationship with karlie as lover era arrived. karlie had gone to rep tour, had started liking posts by taylor on instagram again, there was the pretty clear inclusion of karlie’s hand in the yntcd promo video, taylor patched things up with katy which felt like a resolution to the swish swish feuding narrative, taylor was poised to do something at new york pride, and then scooter bought her masters and she pivoted away from all of what she was doing so as to (some of us theorize) block scooter from profiting off of what her next moves were going to be, and any extra profit he would stand to make from karlie as well.
i can think of a few others (another quick example might be the pandemic) but these are the big three i often think of and refer to in shorthand.
as for the factors that make them happen, it’s a bit like force majeur. in evermore and ttpd taylor has mentioned this idea of being cursed, and i think this is a big theme for her personally. if what you’re angling for is to suggest that it’s bearding that is the main factor in these problems, i would have to disagree. i think it’s something closer to an inability from taylor to do, say, or risk something in the heat of the moment when it’s uncharted territory with uncalculated risk to what she has built. i don’t mean to say that as an insult or slight. it is a legit form of tough decision making and the problems she’s faced are very wicked. i just think that sometimes ill see people throw out the sentiment “why doesn’t she just take the nuclear option” or “she should just say fuck it and come out” etc etc and while i understand what people mean, i think it might be a fundamental misreading of her nature. like it’s… probably not that simple for her.
#i remember in an interview katy perry said something about their astrology signs and how when they hashed it out taylor talked about how#she’s a saggitarius and how it takes time for her to draw her bow and look before she reacts and how for katy that’s different to her etc#it was corny but also i think there’s a little truth to it in a way
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genshin fans really will be like “i can excuse child combatants but i draw the line at young-looking adults”
#genshin#genshin impact#salt is salt#like…some of y’all are so hellbent on fake ass ‘activism’ that you’d RATHER they be child combatants than simply Not Children At All#like the issue here is twofold:#1) harassing people over ‘Bad’ ships. you should not be harassing people period. bullying people is Bad.#2) insisting that everyone else abide by your personal version of ‘canon’#and thus declaring things problematique even though it’s ambiguous in canon#e.g. nahida is canonically 1) over 500 years old 2) small#some people claim she is a child and thus to ship her with scaramouche is Problematique.#they claim she is a child because she is small. they claim that their reason is actually because she was isolated for most of that time.#but that is not actually the reason. bc ‘created by a predecessor god with intent but was never able to grow into the role meant for them->#-> because an outside influence stepped in specifically in an attempt to groom them to suit their own purposes ->#ultimately preventing them from developing and isolating them from anyone who could become their peer’#yeah that applies to both nahida and scaramouche.#the ONLY reason people claim that nahida is a child is because she is small.#like. i don’t ship it but i can see the appeal!#but for the love of fuck just. stop coming up with arbitrary standards of what you consider Bad and then moving the goalposts constantly#and for the love of GOD just leave people alone!!! it’s that easy!!!!#you go ‘well that’s just none of my business’ and block them and scroll away!!
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That Face
Summary: You get drunk and tell Bucky exactly what you want to do to that face.
Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 1.9 K
A/N: You can read this as a companion piece to Red Wings.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. More angst on the part of the reader. Sweet Bucky fluff. Jealousy, excessive drinking, intoxication, drunken confessions, face riding, fingering, extreme oral sex (f receiving) anal play, praise kink, allusion to anal sex. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Bucky was holding you close to him, and it should have been romantic, but it wasn’t.
You were shit faced, and practically falling down with every step.
“Careful Doll, I’m gonna have to carry you home.”
After just six months of dating, you’d moved in with him, your relationship barreling along with breakneck speed, but who wouldn’t fall in love with Bucky?
Who wasn’t still in love with Bucky?
You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, half a block from your brownstone.
“That sounds hot, Bucky, but I’m pissed…”
“Yeah, I know…”
“No, I’m mad.”
You stomped your foot and wobbled, until Bucky’s hands steadied you again. Bucky bent down and looked you in the eyes.
“You good, Doll?”
His sky blue eyes looked sincere, but jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let you accept that.
“No! This was supposed to be our night to fuck and have a romantic dinner. You’ve been gone for three weeks. Three weeks, James!”
Bucky looked contrite, but then again there were four of him weaving in front of you right now, so you couldn’t be sure.
“Sorry, Baby. Didn’t know the guys would be in town. It’s my crew.”
“I can take your army buddies, but her. She’s a bitch!”
“Wow. Whoa whoa whoa. You know I don’t like anyone calling women bitches. Even you.”
Bucky straightened up and the stern look he gave you sent a thrill through you, but you weren’t done.
“She still wants you, Bucky. Sharon is a slut. And you always say you love when I’m a slut for your cock.”
Bucky looked around as you started crying and people walking by avoided the scene.
“I don’t want Sharon, Doll. I want you.”
Bucky looked down at you, eyes sparkling with amusement at your jealousy. Even his voice was smiling. It made you madder and you stumbled as you advanced on him, bucking up to the man who was a foot taller than you.
“Look at that fucking face.”
You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.
“No one gets to ride this dimple but me!”
This time Bucky didn’t care about who heard, you’d peaked his interest. His eyebrow shot up.
Even though drunk, you read his expression.
“Yep!”
You nodded and it threw you off balance, but luckily Bucky was there.
“Betcha didn’t know that I touch myself to the memories of the feeling of that chin between my legs. Did it the entire time you were gone. That cock is something else Bucky, but that face. I just want to ride it into the sunset….”
This was new information to Bucky. You seemed to love when he ate you out, but you were always hesitant to ride his face. He licked his lips as he thought of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of his face.
Then he grinned.
You read him again.
“Oh no! No no no. You think you got me. But you said you were mine…”
Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“I am yours, Doll.”
“So she can’t ride your face?”
Bucky slowly shook his head.
“No, only you.”
You sighed and sagged into his arm.
“Good, because I-“
And that was the last thing you remembered from that night.
You woke up the next morning, head pounding. You looked around, grateful to be in your bed. And grateful for your boyfriend, who’d left a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.
You could hear Bucky puttering around in the kitchen but you weren’t quite ready to eat.
You eagerly took the pills and drank the bottle down. Then, you turned on the shower as you brushed your teeth.
You reflected on the gathering at The Howling Commando, the neighborhood bar so familiar to you as you met Bucky’s friends. Which included Sharon Carter.
Bucky’s ex.
“Bucky’s just being nice, y’know?”
Steve tried to reassure you as she and Bucky caught up in the corner. You nodded back at Steve, but when Bucky smiled at Sharon was when you ordered your first shot of Jameson’s.
You showered as you tried to remember the rest of the night. But all you could remember was Bucky’s sweet face. You wrapped up in a towel and sat on the bed as you thought of how sweet Bucky was. He was so cute. That face.
That face.
“Shit!”
Your head fell into your hands as you remembered what happened the night before.
“What’s wrong, Doll?”
You looked up and your heart dropped.
Bucky was clad in only sleep pants and you could tell that there was nothing underneath.
You licked your lips, not bothering to hide your stare. Bucky came and sat down on the bed.
“See something you like, Doll?”
“Morning.”
“G’morning Sunshine..”
Bucky leaned down and kissed you on the cheek, chaste, despite the look in his eye. Your eyes fell to his lips. And lower.
Bucky licked his lips and rubbed his chin.
“You didn’t answer my question, Doll.”
Bucky’s mouth was an inch from yours. He reached for your towel and hooked his finger at the makeshift knot, causing his fingernail to brush your nipple.
“Don’t tease me Bucky…”
“I should say the same to you, Doll. You told me all the things you wanted to do to my face and then passed out.”
“James! I was drunk!”
“They say we are the most honest when we’re drunk.”
Bucky kissed you and then looked into your eyes.
“D’you believe that I don’t care about Sharon?”
You liked into his true blue eyes and you knew he wasn’t lying.
“I believe you. I love you, Bucky.”
“I love you too, Doll.”
You reached up and caressed his lips and chin.
“Gotta admit. This face is pretty irresistible.”
Bucky grinned and you leaned in for a kiss and climbed on his lap, grinding as he took your towel off.
“Been so long, Bucky.”
Bucky’s hands caressed you as he leaned back and let you have your way.
You made your way down his body, reacquainting yourself with his form with your lips, tongue, and fingers. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pajama pants, lightly scratching his thighs on the way down.
“God I missed you so much, Doll. Spent all last night just waiting until we could get home. Wanted to lose myself in you.”
You had Bucky in your hand, sitting on his legs as you stroked his half-hard cock to full life.
“M’sorry Babe. How can I make it up to you?”
You looked up at him, ready to suck his soul out.
“Come up here and ride this irresistible face.”
You gasped as Bucky pulled you up his body until you were kneeling over him.
“There she is.”
Bucky’s fingers helped to separate your lips as he breathed hot breath into your cunt.
“So fucking wet for me.”
And then he went to work on licking into your tangy goodness.
“So good. Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy.”
Bucky sat you down and suckled your clit, pulling on it like it was gum, stretching it and your soul out for the world (inside your bedroom) to see. He was kneading your breasts and pulling your nipples, serving to make you wetter and him messier.
But it was only just beginning as you started gyrating on his chin.
Bucky smacked your ass and pushed you over on your hands and knees again.
“That’s a girl. Bounce on my tongue.”
You did as you were told, feeling Bucky’s chin in your vagina each time you bounced on his tongue.
“Smear that shit all over my fuckin face Doll. You know you want to.”
Bucky took your ass in his hands and then started moving you back and forth on his face. You were overwhelmed with numerous sensations as his lips, tongue and chin, covered with short facial hair, destroyed your soul.
“Now sit up and fuck this face, Doll. Please. ”
You peered down at his bright blue eyes as his fingertips grazed your stomach. You obeyed him as you pulled his hair and took your throne, his thick, wide tongue spearing into you as you fucked his face.
His chin was now grazing your puckered hole, and you moaned as the scruffy dimpled part of him made you tremble.
“J-James…”
Bucky spread your cheeks and moved his tongue so that it could invade your inmost parts. He licked you from ass to clit and your legs started trembling.
You leaned back over and bounced in his tongue again, holding your breasts with one hand as you braced against the wall with the other.
Bucky’s hand snaked around to flick your clit as you gasped and fully sat on his face as his tongue speared into you, twisting and curling, not as all consuming as his cock, but reaching that special spot inside you nonetheless.
You gasped and sat back, hand on his sternum as you rolled your hips into his face.
“Oh. Ohhhh, oh Jamesssss.”
You whimpered, and your crying-like noises as you moved told him how it felt.
“So… fuck it feels so good…
You were grabbing his hair as he craned his neck upward to look at you.
Bucky growled into your cunt then lifted you upright again, his thumb slipping into your ass. This caused a gush of your fluids into his mouth and he started moaning.
“Mmmmmm. Mmhmmmm!”
“Oahhhh oh ahhh.”
Bucky was still breaching your ass as his tongue sped up impossibly and his lips suckled your clit intermittently.
“More… please!”
You were seeing stars as you reached back and pushed Bucky’s thumb in to the hilt.
Bucky moaned as you started bouncing again. His hand was fucking your ass as you rode his face.
“Please please please…”
“Hmmph… yesssss.”
Bucky spoke into your cunt as you started to reach your crescendo. He could taste your orgasm coming before it happened. Everything sped up.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“Ummmmmm!”
Bucky was in heaven as you continued to gush into his mouth.
You came with a scream as Bucky lapped you all up.
“Unnnnh!”
Bucky pulsed precum on his stomach as you came on his face.
“Unh ahhhh.
“So pretty, Doll. Stay right here.”
Bucky kissed your lips as you quivered in front of him.
“Want this ass. Gonna give it to me?”
“Bucky…”
“She’s ready for me now.”
Bucky’s finger found that hole again.
“Gonna make you feel real good.”
You whimpered as Bucky spit on his fingers and manipulated two of them inside you.
He gave your clit a peck with his lips and you jumped.
“Nice and loose for me.”
You looked down on him adoringly and carded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. He moaned.
“Please Doll. But only if you want that too. I need you. You’re my best girl. My good girl.”
You looked back, his cock jumping on his abs, sticky with his pre cum. You shuddered at his praise and at the thought of him inside that hole. But as Bucky probed and kissed you further, you knew you wanted it.
You didn’t need to look back down to know that Bucky was buried in your cunt again, bringing you to another peak. Instead, your head lolled back on your shoulders as you rode Bucky’s mouth again.
“Anything! Anything you want, Bucky…I want it too! Ah…”
You just couldn’t resist that face.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#sharon carter#steve rogers#Bucky Barnes au
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safety net
jack hughes x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc
positions masterlist!
~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~
-
you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.
“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.
“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.
“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.
“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.
“i’ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.
“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.
“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.
“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”
“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.
“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.
“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”
“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.
“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.
“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.
“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.
“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.
“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.
“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.
“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.
“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.
“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.
“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”
“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.
“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”
“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.
“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.
“is he older or younger?”
“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.
“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.
“can i get your number?” he asks.
“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.
“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.
“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”
“nice to meet you.” you say.
“nice to meet you too.” he replies.
“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.
“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.
“johnny getting some ladies?”
“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.
“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.
“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.
“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.
“let me walk you?” jack asks.
“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.
“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.
“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”
“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.
“jack you don’t have to.”
“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.
“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.
“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.
“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.
“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.
dawson: glad you made it back safe!
y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack
dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n
y/n: you too, see you again soon?
dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me
y/n: doubt it
dawson: only bc ill bring jack
y/n: bitch
dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n
y/n: goodnight daws😭
-
you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.
“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.
“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.
“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”
“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.
“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.
“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.
“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.
“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.
“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.
“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.
“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.
“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.
-
once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.
“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.
“hello?” you speak when he picks up.
“hey y/n, what’s up?”
“can you come over, i need advice.”
“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”
“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.
“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.
“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.
“jack is what’s up.”
“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.
“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.
“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.
“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”
“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”
“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”
“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.
“how am i supposed to be calm?”
“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.
“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.
“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.
“perfect.” you laugh.
“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.
jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?
y/n: yes for sure!
jack: ok awesome, see you then
y/n: *loved a message*
you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.
-
it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.
“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.
“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”
“well you never know.”
“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”
“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”
“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”
“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.
“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.
“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.
“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”
“whatever mercer.”
-
“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.
“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”
“yeah absolutely!”
“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.
“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”
“perfect.” you smile to yourself.
“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”
“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.
-
2 months later
“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.
“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.
“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.
“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.
“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.
“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”
“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”
“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”
“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”
“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”
“you’re lying but go on.”
“lying about what?”
“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.
“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”
“i think you love him.” he laughs.
“you’re crazy.” you scoff.
“did you listen to anything you just said?”
“what part?”
“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”
“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”
“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”
“well n-“
“THEN GO GET HIM.”
“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”
“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”
“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”
“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.
“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.
“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”
“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.
“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.
“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.
“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.
“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.
“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.
“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.
“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.
-
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#nhl#nhl imagine#jack hughes imagine#dawson mercer#luke hughes#john marino#nj devils#turcs’ talk#turcs <3
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doing grocery shopping with the batboys
Could you write something fun and fluff please?
is one of my favorite activities.
I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.
Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️
Dick:
You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)
Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.
Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;
‘Dick?’
A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’
He was in the pet section. again.
You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’
You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.
The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.
However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.
Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.
Jason:
Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.
And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.
‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.
‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.
You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.
Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.
His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.
How sweet of him.
(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)
Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!
He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’
You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.
Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#nightwing x y/n#nightwing x you#nightwing x reader#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines
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Eren Jaeger x reader (drabble)
‘Did it hurt?”
you turn to meet his eyes, confused by his question. “What? it felt goo-“
“When you fell from heaven.” he laughs at his own joke. “God, Eren you’re so tacky.” you say, pushing his body from yours. “Girls love it.”
There’s the reminder you needed. “right. So I’m heading out.” His whole body turns, “where are you going?” raising an eyebrow, trying to pull you back into bed. “I have plans.” you turn from his grip and start looking for your underwear.
He stands up and and puts his jeans on, “with who?” his tone makes you falter a bit. He’s never cared about more than how far you’d let him go in bed. At least he’s never given any clear indication.
You hesitate putting your clothes on for a second before answering. “Just meeting a friend”
“And who’s this ‘friend’?” He’s standing right behind you now which makes you jump. “Jesus, Eren. you can’t creep up behind me like that.” He stands unaffected, waiting for your reply.
“Just helping a guy from my class with our chem exam.” He laughs without any indication of humor. “You’re kidding, right?”
You feel the tension rising and do your best to avoid it, like you always do. “I’m tutoring, dude. Let it go.”
“I just fucked you senseless into my madress and you’re about to meet another guy?” he doesn’t even know why he’s raising his voice. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at himself for not having the guts to claim you as his.
Some people would call Eren arrogant, greedy, well, he kinda has the right to be. As the captain of the hockey team, he’s used to getting that he wants. that, and his looks. Flashing what he’s been told is a ‘very charming smile’ usually has him set for anything he wants.
Thing is, he wants you, and he thought he made it clear. I mean, are that blind to his advances? Other guys should know you’re off the market. He’s kinda made sure everyone knows. Except you apparently
The moment he raised his voice, regret filled his heart upon seeing your face. He feels he can’t stop messing up but the though of you meeting another man at when you’re giving of indications of being mad at him, is scary.
“Are you jealous?” You inquire, wanting to understand him. “I’m not jealous! It’s just..you’re mine.” even he looks confused as he says it.
You scoff at this, “you’re not my boyfriend, you have no right.” Maybe he doesn’t like the reminder.
He blocks the door with his body as you’re trying to exit. Frustrated, you sigh. “What are you doing? move.” you say, taking a step forward. “No.” he sternly says and means it. You bring your hand to slap him but he grabs it.
“We’re just fucking, right? so let me go, Eren. Let me go!” You struggle but his athlete body has no issue keeping up against you. “Don’t say that. you’re more than that to me.” At this, you stop fighting against him, looking anywhere but his face.
“I’m sorry.” You’re taken aback when he slumps his head on your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have mentioned other girls. It was a bad joke.” You feel heat rising in your face. “What are you talking ab-
“Stop. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” he exhales.
“I don’t unde-“
“you know I like you.” he interrupts, looking exhausted. You feel a lump in your throat and hate yourself for it. “How Eren? you never show me.” your voice breaks as you say it.
“I never show you? he almost laughs. “We spend every living moment together, I chase after you like a goddamn dog, god [name] how could you not see how infatuated I am with you?” he’s breathing heavily now.
Maybe you have been ignoring his advances. Maybe actions speak louder than words, or maybe, this is exactly what you’ve been waiting for.
“Mentioning other girls did upset me.” you decide to admit. This is your way of showing him you like him too, and he understands it perfectly.
“Yeah?” he smiles and you return the favor. “Yeah.”
“Want me to tell you how I jerk off to you and only you? Cuz I can get pretty romantic you know.” he pretends to be serious. Breaking out in laughter, “You can’t let a good moment pass, can you Eren?”
“Huh? wait, I can go into detail, I usually imagine you on to-“ you slap your hand over hush mouth. “Hush.”
He feels relief that you’re not upset anymore. Draping his hand over your shoulder, dragging you back in to his room. “You know, you look pretty hot when you’re angry.”
You deadpan, letting him go on. Eren explains everything so passionately, it takes a while getting used to. “I’m being for real. It’s hot when you talk back to me. Every time I look at you, you somehow turn even more beautiful.” he says in all seriousness, making you turn your face away from his in embarrassment.
he threads his fingers through yours, “don’t look away.” he murmurs, breathing you in through your neck, using his free hand to push your hips closer to his.
“I like it when you say stuff like that.” you confess, making him smile in your neck, scattering soft kisses up your jawline. “Then I’ll keep saying them.” He pulls back and thinks all the ways you make him fall into pieces, of the unsaid words he’ll make sure to tell you.
You carefully lift up your tangled hands and leave kisses up his wrist, taking initiative giving him the eyes. He lifts his face and locks eyes with you, message received.
Grabbing your jaw, he whispers, “wanna get fucked?” and you nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
Playlist
He runs his hand down his chest and twirls his finger in the air, “turn around for me, gorgeous.” You comply and make sure to graze your ass against his zipper, his eyes follow the movement and the air suddenly feel thicker.
“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” sweeping your hair away from your back. He makes sure to take a mental photo when you turn your face back and smirk. You’re going to be the end of him.
“Strip.”
And so you do while his fingers trail from your neck down your lower back, until it’s playing in between your legs, “Jesus christ, this pussy.” His boner is prominent against you back as firmly holds you against him by your hipbone.
Wasting no time, he stops himself from making you come on his fingers and leaves a trail of wetness on your skin as his hands move away.
“You’re so wet, [name]. Do you like it when I touch you?” he’s being condescending. You hear his clothes hit the floor and excitement rushes through you. “I like it.” you exclame.
Taking a fistful of your hair, he brings his face into yours, capturing your lips with a promise. “Gonna fuck you so hard, baby.”
He pushes you onto the mattress and positions himself on top, locking his fingers into your hips. His touch is so rough, branding you as his. A slow grind of him entering you leaves you breathless, the stabbing pain of his size lasting for only a second before the rhythmical plunging of his cock turn into pleasure.
You lie weightless as his skin slaps against you, spreading warmth from inside out. He grabs onto the headboard and pushes even deeper, increasing the tension of pleasure with every stroke. It’s too much, you could swear he’s in your belly. Releasing a shriek, you squirm away, overwhelmed by pleasure. He grabs your chin abruptly, “you’re gonna take it.”
Running your hand down your belly, you stop to show him. “can feel you.” you breathe. His eyes follow your movement and the moments he realizes what you mean, he lets out the sluttiest grown and pummels into you with everything he has.
“fuck, fucking love fucking you.”
Throaty moans leave your mouth as he claims every inch of your body. He lifts your legs higher and leaves kisses along your foot. “Tell me who you belong to.” staring deep into your eyes, leaving you no place to hide.
“Y-you.” you hiccup as the force of his hips rutting into yours, moves your entire body. He holds you down, massaging your skin with rough hands. A pleased hum leaves his throat, “Yeah, and I don’t like sharing.”He’s so arrogant.
“Harder.” you plead, pushing your hands against his steel back muscles. A whistle leaves him and his face explodes into a grin, “a real freak aren’t you?”
You give him a lustful smile and he immediately obliges your demand and rocks his hips into yours even harder, skin to skin. Keeping his eyes on you to make sure you’re okay.
The way your eyes roll to the back of head head as you start touching yourself is indication enough for him. Each touch of his pelvic increases the friction against your clit . Your pussy is tightening up, spasming around his jock. And you feel his cock jerk inside you.
No words are needed, you both know each others bodies inside out. You come first and he gathers you in his arms as you scream and writhe beneath him, “shh, baby. It’s okay. so proud of you.” he whispers all tenderly, running his palms up and down your sides as you continue to pump his cock, making him release.
His head rears back as his cock jerks inside of you, spurting his cum into the latex barrier in between you. The high of coming together is like nothing else, his fist in your scalp and your hands scratching every inch of him you can reach.
As you both calm down, your rough markings on his abdomen turn into soothing touches while he inspect every inch of his handprints on your body. You’re a match to his flame, and he has no intention of letting you go.
“Staying the night?” he asks intentionally, this feels like a deciding moment between you two. “mhm,” you hum, “but just because your shirts are comfortable to sleep in.” you say, slyly.
Yeah right. “Had no intention of letting you leave anyway” he admits and gets up, throwing away the condom and begins picking out a shirt for you to wear. It already feels empty without him inside you.
“Hey, did you really have someone to tutor?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts.
“Yeah, why?” you answer thoughtlessly, making Eren snicker, “well you should probably let him know you’re not coming by now,” he reminds you.
“Oh shit.” you jump towards your phone and he just laughs, smacking your ass.
“best ass in the world.”
#I honestly have no idea what this is but enjoy!💕#it’s just a drabble guys#💋#this is very standard of me but I haven’t read through it..pardon any mistakes#night#eren smut#attack on titan eren#eren#eren jeager x reader#eren aot#eren fanfiction#eren jaeger#just in the clouds for eren#eren x reader#eren yeager x reader#my works#eren fics#anime smut#reader x character
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Sanji who just wants a job as a sous chef but has yet to be hired, but has somehow managed to enter the world of being a private chef for extremely wealthy families.
He hates them they remind him of childhood but he needs the cash.
He starts working for Mihawk.
Mihawk who only eats odd, simple foods. Things that Sanji feels insulted to make. A LOT of toast with cream cheese and jam, honestly.
Sanji’s bored out of his mind (he starts canning the fruit from Mihawk’s garden to pass the time)
Then one day, bursting through the front door come two people his own age, a woman with pink hair and a man with green, DEMANDING to know why Mihawk moved without TELLING THEM, HIS OWN CHILDREN
Sanji immediately pegs them for stuck up assholes. He’s grown to respect Mihawk, at least (he’s better than the Charlottes were). Spoiled rich adult kids who expect their lifestyles to be funded. Ugh.
Mihawk blinks and says that he DID tell them.
There’s a lot more shouting as Sanji quietly pickles beets in the background. They come to some sort of truce around the idea that Zoro (the green haired one) lost his phone, and Perona (pink hair) blocked his number after Mihawk called at 2am about his yams.
They’re good yams, Sanji thinks.
He also learns that they were on a “road trip of self discovery”. He’s not sure what that means. It sounds like rich kid speak for “spending spree”.
They integrate into the household though and, after being introduced to Sanji, Perona demands pink. Anything strawberry.
Zoro says he’ll eat anything. Sanji doubts that.
He tests it.
He makes extravagant dishes.
Zoro doesn’t seem to even notice, eating without complaint.
Honestly it’s good practice. He uses it as an excuse to get back into the hang of the fanciest things Zeff taught.
But he still doesn’t like them. Rich assholes. Mihawk’s simple toasts get him a pass.
One thing about Zoro though is that he seems to spend all his time working out, so he comes looking for food at the ODDEST times. And SOMETIMES Sanji is ASLEEP. He’s got a room in the old servants’ quarters and Zoro will appear at any hour.
After the third time being awoken at 2am, Sanji snaps.
“I’m preparing you a fucking shelf full of onigiri,” he says, pointing with a judgmental finger at Zoro’s chest. “That’s going to be your midnight snack from now on! Some of us need our beauty rest!”
Zoro blinks down at the finger. “Okay,” he says. “I mean. You clearly need it.”
Sanji scoffs in outrage. He’s still half asleep. He aims a kick at Zoro’s head before he can process his one rule (“don’t hurt clients”).
Zoro dodges.
His face breaks out into a grin.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Curls,” he says.
Sanji stumbles. He regains his footing and stomps down the hall, face aflame.
He makes thirty onigiri.
Zoro eats seven.
“There, that’ll last you three more nights,” Sanji says.
Zoro nods. “So what time do I wake you up to get you to fight me again?”
Sanji splutters. “No!!” He shrieks. “It’s three in the morning! I know you’re a rich fuck with nothing to do but some of us have jobs! I’m on call 24/7 here!”
…he regrets it as soon as he says it.
Expects to be fired on the spot.
Zoro frowns. He crosses his arms. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “Go to bed.”
Sanji… does. He avoids turning his back on Zoro as he leaves the room, a bad feeling churning in his gut.
When he makes breakfast the next morning, he’s expecting to be fired as soon as Mihawk arrives, but Mihawk mentions nothing.
Neither do Perona or Zoro when they appear, hours later.
Sanji feels like he’s walking on eggshells until Zoro appears in his kitchen in early afternoon.
“Hey,” says Zoro. “I talked to my dad.”
Sanji hangs his head. “So I’m fired?” He asks, dread pooling in his stomach.
“Fucking what? No, Jesus. I just said you should have a regular work shift. Only like, ten hours on call.”
“So you docked my pay,” Sanji says flatly.
“Now you’re being an ass,” Zoro growls. “NO, you’re being paid the same, you’re just going to have time off when I can’t bug you. That cool?”
Sanji frowns, suspicious. “What do you get out of it?” He asks.
Crossing his arms, Zoro scoffs. “Not getting yelled at at 2am, mostly.”
“You could’ve just not woken me up,” Sanji says.
“You make it real hard to be nice to you, Cook,” Zoro says, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to do something nice.”
Sanji melts a little, but he’s not willing to give in entirely. “Well thanks,” he says. “For not firing me, too.”
Zoro rolls his eyes. “We’ve all had shitty jobs where we want to yell at customers,” He says.
“Now I KNOW you’re lying,” Sanji argues. “I know how rich you are. I know what Mihawk pays me.”
Zoro looks… funny at him. “Did he ever happen to mention that we’re adopted?”
Sanji blinks. Thinks of Zeff. “Uh, no?”
“Yeah,” Zoro says. “Fucking Daddy Warbucks situation. I was seventeen. Trust me, I know customer service. Had to work to eat.”
“Well that’s not fair,” Sanji says. “Now I feel like a fucking ass.”
“You ARE a fucking ass,” Zoro says. “Want to fight when you’re off work? Officially your shift ends at 6 now.”
“Dinner is for seven so that won’t work.” Sanji says. “Shut up I have a chef’s integrity.”
“You’re not turning down fighting me?” Zoro asks, sounding oddly hopeful.
“You spend all day working out so it’ll be unfair,” Sanji says. “But sure, I’ll kick your ass. Winner chooses what filling goes in your onigiri.”
“Spicy salmon,” Zoro says.
“Pickled plums,” muses Sanji.
They do end up fighting after dinner, out in Mihawk’s fancy topiary garden (he maintains it himself).
Bruised and panting, they end up making out behind the large rabbit-shaped tree.
It becomes A Thing.
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WIBTA if I blocked my Zionist
“”friend”” after she gave condolences for my dog?
Content warnings: pet death, Zionism, genocide mentions
Hi. I’ll try to keep this brief and cohesive. So for some background, I (24F) gave this “friend” from middle school, let’s call her E (24F). We were best friends, but she moved away about halfway through our time in high school. She was from Israel, and not being as informed as I am now, I never thought that much of it. When she moved away, we stayed mutuals on social media, but didn’t chat much. She’d hit me up sometimes, usually after months would go by, and we’d chat a bit, but it would normally end with her disappearing again, and we both just went on with our lives.
Between 2021-2023, I ended up losing a lot of people. Falling outs, rifts, drama etc. Needless to say I don’t have many friends rn. So when she hit me up again at the beginning of 2023 and then later that summer (more consistency then usual), I was excited to reconnect with her. Then, Israel began it’s current violence and genocide in Gaza. Since the beginning of the violence, I took the time to learn more (and am still learning) about the injustices inflicted on the Palestinians by Israel for the past 75 years, and have kept up with Palestinian journalists like Motaz and Bisan on the current aggression that’s been taking place for the past 100 DAYS.
Now remember when I said E was Israeli? Yeaaa, and I brutally reminded of that. She was eating up and regurgitating the lies from Israel on her Instagram stories, blaming Hamas for everything etc. Meanwhile the rest of my feed was of horrific on the ground footage of innocent Palestinians being slaughtered simply for being Palestinian and for living on their land. I believe in the cause for a Free Palestine and an end to the Israeli occupation, and I resolved that a Zionist is not who I want to be friends with, and that I would unfollow E and cut contact.
But this is where I fucked up and am an AH - I stalled. I just restricted her and kept telling myself “I’ll get to it.” I’ll admit the nostalgia of our bond we used to have got the better of me, and I was taking my time cutting the contact cuz I was upset that I have to cut my losses with a connection AGAIN. So I stalled. And kept stalling.
Now this past weekend, my dog passed away. I posted a memorial post to my Instagram, and saw E commented her condolences. Which was nice, but I feel icky taking the sympathy from a Zionist, from someone who does not have sympathy for the lives of the innocent Palestinian men, women, and children being lost in Gaza. And most likely never will.
Since she’s restricted, I don’t think her comment is public. And I don’t want to accept it. Accepting it and responding would call all my support for the Palestinian cause into question. Hell, the fact that I stalled unfollowing her so long calls it into question already, I know that. But I also can’t ignore her forever.
So now comes the time to do what I should of done months ago. I have to unfollow her and block her. But a part of me still feels bad doing after she had sweet things to say about my late pet. I KNOW I’m already the AH for not unfollowing her already, but my query is, WIBTA to do so now after she offered her condolences, and to block her on top of that?
What are these acronyms?
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3AM
♡ Sae is mad. You’re a stubborn bitch. Put that together and that equals hate fuck
Genre: P WITHOUT P ;) also a little fluff at the end
CW: Oh lord there’s quite a bit. The biggest one is def that this entire situation is a bit toxic cuz y’all are flirting in a fight. Ig u could think of it as cheating, but I don’t so. SAE IS A BITCH. He also calls u a bitch so be warned that he is mean af. Also degradation. Slapping, hair pulling, clothes getting ripped off is also there. No prep as well. Unprotected sex babes. Theirs is also mentions of hickies and heavy making out. Sae manhandles you a bit. THAT SHOULD BE ALL THE TRIGGERING CONTENT MATERIAL BUT BE WARNED THAT THIS IS SMUT SO PLS PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!
Characters: Sae Itoshi
A/N: thé sae brain rot has been BAD. Like there was so much in my head, so this fic is honestly just like, a small portion of the smutty thoughts and hcs I’ve had. I’ll probably write more if this does well!
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sae demands.
“Oh please,” you scoff, tossing your black clutch purse onto the bed. “There is nothing wrong with me, she had it coming.”
You whip your head around to face your husband. He stands in the doorway, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned, letting some of his collar bone peak out at you. Anger and jealousy flood throughout your body again at the thought of what that cunt did. You can practically see the line she traced with her nail across Sae’s neck. To get back at her, you had pretended to bump into her, practically tossing you wine all over her. It was a shame honestly- because of her inability to take a hint, her pristine white dress left the body with a giant wine stain adorning her side. Good thing you wore a black dress. It just looked like someone’s spilt water on you.
still the way you spilled the wine was very obvious. What can you say? Acting’s never been your strong suit. People were bound to notice, and although no one said it to your face, it’s obvious that they knew you’d done it on purpose.
it’s fine, after all, if they were in your situation they would’ve done the same.
“Y/N,” Sae groaned tearing off his overcoat. “You can’t just ruin-”
“The dress was ruined the moment it touched her skin.”
“You are fucking horrible.”
“No, Sae! You know what’s horrible? You did absolutely nothing to stop her!” You shout storming towards him.
“Oh shut up, yes I did,” he replies, shoving past you.
“Oh I’m sure that tent you have in your pants was trying very hard to shove her away from you,” you roll your eyes, pursuing him.
You knew right know was not the time, but Sae’s back looked very nice in that shirt. It hugged his muscles in all the right ways.
“Are you insane?” He growls, spinning around to stare you down. You didn’t back down though, sizing up to his gaze.
“I fucking wish,” you say just as lowly. “Look, it’s still there.”
You cast your eyes down to where his dick was in fact pressing up against his pants. It looked uncomfortable, and if the night had gone any better, you would’ve loved to help him, but right now, sex did not seem anywhere within your near future.
“You’re actually fucking mental,” Sae rolls his eyes, straightening himself out. “I cannot stand you when your like this.”
“You can’t stand me?!”
“No!”
“Sae! She was flirting with you. That bitch was unashamed and practically choking you in the middle of the hall!” You scream. “You are so frustrating sometimes. You cannot say that you can’t stand me, when you’re like this!”
“Like what?”
Hot.
“Oblivious.”
“Better than being a jealous bitch.”
“The fuck did you just call me?” You ask, stalking towards him like you’re about to pounce on your prey.
Sae didn’t move, just stared down into your eyes as you two came chest to chest.
“You heard me,” he muttered hotly.
From being this close, you can see something you weren’t able to recognize just moments ago. Sae’s pupils had blown up, almost completely block the aqua of his irises. His breath was hot against your face, and his lips were such a pretty pink-red color. His hair was pushed off to the side, making him look so much more handsome than he did normally. It was all so much, and you couldn’t tell if the sudden feeling in your blood was lust, anger, or a weird mix of both.
“Fucking try saying that shit again,” you mutter lowly.
He shivers. “You are such a fucking bitch.”
His hands slowly traces curves through the skintight fabric. They travel up your ass to the small of your back, and then slide back down to the swell of your ass. He offers a light squeeze, before leaning over you.
“You,” he begins, “are such a jealous. Fucking. Bitch.”
You hands move on their own accord, shoving Sae back onto the bed. Shock doesn’t last long in him though, because just moments later, you’re falling on top of him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and the swell of his dick is pressing against panties you wear underneath this dress. His hands stop balancing himself, and he reaches up to drag them all over your body. He starts rubbing them over your back, before moving down to your ass. He gropes them unabashedly now, guiding them over his crotch. His left one stays leading your ministrations, and his right hand goes up to your scalp. Grabbing a handful of hair, he pulls you back, a string of saliva lingering between your mouth as you pant. Your eyes are lidded as you stare into his. There is not a single doubt in your mind right now that you look like a fucking whore, and you know he’s thinking the same thing.
Sae pulls your hair again, this time making your head tilt back. You raunchily moan out, and his mouth immediately finds a new home on your neck.
“You are such a dick,” you gasp out as he sucks hickies into your skin. “Mmmmmm.”
“Yeah?” He growls, pulling away from you. “I’m a fucking dick huh?” He releases your hair to slap your ass. “I’m a fucking dick? Dirty bitch.”
His other hand slaps your ass again. Moans break free from your throat, involuntarily, of course. “Yes,” you whimper. “You’re so fucking horrible.”
Sae lifts you off the bed with absolutely no effort whatsoever. It’s infuriating how strong he is. His lips find yours again and soon enough, the kisses devolve into something sloppy. You hear the bed creak again, as Sae kneels onto it. He drops you onto the mattress of a sudden.
You land on your side, with your left leg hiked up over your right one. You lean on your right forearm and push yourself up with your left hand. You toss your hair over your shoulder and glare at him.
“What’s wrong?” you sneer, “afraid that your gonna cum in your pants like a fucking virgin?”
Sae is quick to lean over you, continuing the messy kisses. He shoves you down so that you’re entirely on your stomach now, and with his free arm, pulls your ass into the air. He pulls your dress over your butt, revealing the lacy black underwear you’re clad in.
“Me? Cum in my pants?” He growls. “With how wet you are, you might as well have already came.” He leans down to lick up your pussy through your panties, further wetting the already soaked fabric. “Might as well just leave you like this huh? Since you already fucking finished.”
Desperate thoughts want you to scream at him to not, but your stubborn ass decides against that. “And what? Jerk off in the bathroom? You’d still be imagining me in there.”
Sae backs away from you, and grabs the top of the back of the dress. He pulls, and you are now just sitting on all fours. You’re confused as to what he’s doing, before he grabs the same spot with the other hand. Soon, there’s a loud riiippp, and the fabric falls off your body in one giant piece.
“That was fucking expensive,” you growl, as Sae flips you onto your back.
“As if a cunt like you pays attention to the price of shit. I’ve spoiled you too much huh? You need a good lesson.”
You gulp, but still try to mask your fear. “What are you gonna do?”
His left hand traces your neckline, before wrapping tightly around the bruise littered column. “Maybe I will just leave you here like this,” he muses. “Your pussy soaking wet, begging for my cock.”
“Then I’d just cum myself,” you laugh sinisterly. “I’m thinking I’ll get off to Ryusei in my mind what do you think.”
Another loud crack echoes through the room, but now the sting isn’t in your ass. You cheek burns as you yelp. Sae backhands you next, creating to bright red glows on your face.
“You bitch,” his voice sounds demonic, like he’s two seconds away from becoming evil.
“You were gonna be the one leaving me here needy!” You cry out, trying to lean up. His hand on your neck pushes you back down though.
“Shut up.” Another loud rip, and your pussy is suddenly exposed to the world. The cold air is oddly nice. “I’m gonna make you regret everything you’ve said.”
“You can’t do that.”
“If you cum,” he starts. His hand traces your lips, and his voice grows a mockingly gentle as he whispers, “I’ll tie you up to the headboard, stick a vibrator against that clit, and drain you dry until your begging and screaming and crying yourself hoarse. Ok, baby?”
The pet name is new. Normally when you two hate fuck, he ignores all of them, but the sudden presence of it makes you realize that your actually in deep shit right now.
“Do your worst,” you command.
Sae doesn’t even prep you. He undoes his belt with one hand, unbuttons his pants with the other, and swiftly drags them down with his underwear. His dick springs out, hard, pink, leaking precum. You want to suck his dick so bad, make him feel so fucking good, but you push that urge down.
He lines himself up against your pussy, and in one move, starts fucking you ruthlessly. He’s going fast, he’s going hard, he’s doing everything that he needs to be doing to make pleasure erupt in your body like only he can.
Moans tumble from your lips but you literally do not care whatsoever that this is your admitting to him making you feel good. That stubbornness is quite literally being fucked out of you, and right now your perfectly ok with it.
“S-s-sae…”
“Hm?” He hums shakily from above you. “Do you need to come already?”
Never mind, the stubbornness is back.
“N-no. I just wanted to tell you that you can’t fuck to save your life.”
Somehow, he gets faster and harder. You hadn’t even thought that possible, yet here you are, getting your shit absolutely rocked.
“Really?” Sae mocks as you whimper louder.
“Yes,” you reply, not daring to back down.
Sae doesn’t say anything else, content to just let you go insane on his cock, however much you try to deny it. He can tell when you’re close. He’s fucked you so many times that he’s memorized every tell that your body has to offer. Right now, your eyes are becoming heavy, almost looking like you’re about to fall asleep. They’re also turning super glossy, despite no tears falling. When he feels your hole repeatedly clamping onto him without letting go, making yourself feel even more tight, he knows your going to cum.
“You can’t cum baby,” he growls.
“O-ok, I wasn’t going to,” you sigh as he continues screwing you.
“Good job,” he says mockingly.
You don’t miss the sarcasm drowning his words, and somehow, you find the strength in you to reach up and slap him. When he doesn’t say anything, you backhand him. A couple seconds go by, before he commands, “Harder.”
You slap him again.
“Harder.”
You slap him again.
“Goddamit, I said harder bitch!”
You slap him, then yank on his hair for good measure.
“Still can’t cum,” he groans, pleasure overtaking every nerve of his body.
“Sae!” You cry when he starts ramming into just the right spot.
“No. Cumming. Baby.”
“Sae, please!” You sob. You’re trying, you really are. “Sae!”
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry!” you moan out finally. “Sae please, I’m sorry I’ve been- oh my god please Sae, please just let me cum!”
“That’s it baby. That’s all I wanted from you,” his voice suddenly saccarine sweet. “You can cum baby don’t worry.”
Your orgasm is so intense, you almost pass out. Every part of your body is lit on fire, you feel like your blood is lava. There’s it not a single inch of your body left untouched by this overwhelming pressure that does nothing but consume you. It feels like you’re drowning at the same time as flying. Your back arches and finally, you feel satisfied with something that’s happened tonight.
Sae fucks you until he comes, and the feeling is pretty much the exact same as yours. Nerve shattering pleasure follows each thrust he sends into you. His thighs shake at the end.
When he finally gets a good look at you, he watches the red painted across your skin, shining from sweat. Your hands cover your face, and a twinge of remorse stings at his heart.
“Y/N?” he hesitantly moves to touch your hand. When you don’t pull away, he lifts your hands off of your face. Your eyes stay closed though. You’re not crying which is good.
Sae sighs, and steps out of his pants. His shirt sticks to his skin with sweat, so he removed it before walking to the bathroom. Right next to it is a cabinet with towels, which he grabs a fresh one from. Going into the bathroom, he cleans himself off, dampens the towel and goes to clean you off. Your eyes are still closed, but you respond to his touch. He wipes the inside of your legs, and then chucks the towel somewhere behind him. He walks to the bedroom door, where his lounge shirt and sweatpants hang. He slides the sweatpants on, and then grabs the shirt.
“Y/N, I need you to sit up.”
Slowly, you pull yourself up. Sae pulls the shirt over you, and you adjust your arms through the sleeves. It’s only after that do you open your eyes to look at him.
Your eyes have darkens but a little bit of light still reflects in them. You look exhausted though, which he supposes is only fair.
“Sae…” you whisper, collapsing against his body. He wraps his arm around you, hugging you firmly against him.
“I’m sorry too,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have… encouraged, I guess, what she was doing.”
You’re silent for a few beats, before murmuring, “It’s ok.”
“No it’s not.”
“To me it is now,” you say, leaning back to look him in the eyes.”
“Why?” He snorts. “Cuz we fucked.”
“Because you apologized,” you roll your eyes. “That’s all that I wanted.”
You end up falling asleep against Sae and when you wake up, the two of you are curled up underneath a blanket on the couch. Figures, the bed was probably messy. After all, it always is after your 3 AM activities.
A/N: Goddam.
#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x you#itoshi sae x you#sae itoshi smut#itoshi sae smut#blue lock smut#bllk smut#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock sae#bllk sae#bllk itoshi sae#blue lock itoshi sae
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Adultery
Pairing: Jake Kiszka X f!reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: CHEATING (if you don’t like it, don’t read 😛), smut, minors DNI, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, language
.
.
.
.
It’s wrong.
Those thoughts you’ve been thinking? The made up scenarios you’ve formed in your head? It’s not right.
There are many layers as to why this case is out of reach. Unfathomable.
For one, it would be in your best interest to not get fired here. You work for this man. Sleeping with the one you answer to, the person who has the power to terminate you with the snap of his fingers, wouldn’t look good to your boss, huh?
But let’s cut the shit, and get to the real problem at hand.
Jake Kiszka is not a single man.
He has a partner. She is a lovely woman. Whom he’s been involved with for several years. You knew this from the way he spoke of her. Many times you’ve been witness to the rushed FaceTime calls he’s shared with her before stage.
Oh, and there was that one time you caught yourself with your ear pressed to his dressing room door, listening to the way he spoke to her on the phone. His voice soft and sultry.
“I miss you” her voice echoed from the other side of the phone.
“Can you do something for me tonight, babe?” He asked.
“Anything.” Her voice was desperate. You could hear the way she yearned for him through the phone.
“Think of me tonight when you slip your fingers below that lace and pleasure yourself. Think of me the entire time. Say my name when you cum.”
He was taken. Unavailable. Off the market.
But you didn’t even feel bad. That was the worst part.
You especially didn’t feel bad that night after eavesdropping on their phone call. You did exactly what he asked of her and thought of him the entire time. Just like most nights.
But you weren’t crazy.
There was a reason behind the pining for Jake. Every other time, the subtle flirtatious manner was reciprocated.
You remember the times where his touch lingered longer than it should have against your skin.
The times he brought you things like water or a snack, when that was quite literally your job for him.
And what about that time he specifically instructed you to “remain side stage for the entire show”?
You weren’t crazy.
Right?
“30 minutes ‘til stage people. Let’s get a move on.” An annoying voice rang through your radio.
Do they really have to update us every 10 minutes?
You added some pep to your step, despite the agitation of the constant reminder.
These places all looked the same behind the scenes. Long boring hallways with a bunch of doors to random places lining the walls.
The echo of your footsteps reverberated from the concrete floors to the cinder block walls.
“What’s the rush?”
Fuck.
The door to his dressing room was cracked. He sat lazily against the couch. His left arm draped over the top of the cushion, his legs crossed.
That curled smile. Jake had this signature smirk. It was like the Cheshire Cat. Like he knew he would forever get away with the shit he pulled.
“It- its 25 minutes to show. Shouldn’t you be…” You’ve lost your train of thought at the sight of him rising from the couch, dusting off the imaginary lint from the thigh of his pants.
“I’m always ready for whatever the night has in store.” He answers your unfinished question, the shit eating grin still plastered across his face. He punctuates his sentence with a pucker of his lips.
Before you even have time to process, the bathroom door inside the room swings open.
“Hey babe, what do you think about this dress? Too much?”
Layla.
Jake’s long term girlfriend was at the show tonight. Sitting with him in his dressing room before he headed to the stage. Dressing up for him. Doing everything you wished for.
You stood awkwardly as you watched Jake pull her body into his by the grip of his fingertips on her hips.
“You look positively radiant tonight.” He reassured her.
He planted the softest kiss imaginable to her lips - almost as if he intended not to let them meet.
His eyes quickly shifted to your presence before fixing back on her’s.
“Will you…. See if you can find Sam for me, love? Got something I want to do before the show.” He tucks her hair behind her ear as if to convince her of the task.
She nods back at him with those annoying doe eyes. You wonder if she truly is as dull as you assumed.
“Quickly.” He smacks her ass as she walks away from him.
You can’t help but roll your eyes as you begin to walk off.
“Oh do that again for me will you?” Jake calls from the dressing room.
You peek your head in once more.
“Excuse me?” Fake annoyance lacing the tone of your voice.
“What would Layla think if she heard that?” You bring yourself further into the room.
“And by the way, thats fucked up sending her on a wild goose chase looking for Sam. He’s never in the same spot for more than-“
He cuts you off by slamming the door shut, reaching his arm dangerously close next to your head.
The lock switches beside you.
“You’re catching on.”
That fucking smirk. You can hear it when he talks, even if he’s turned his back to you.
You study the waves of his hair that fall against the back of his suit.
“You don’t want me like that.” His back remains to you as he fixes two drinks.
“What?” You’re nervous. Your voice a high pitched whisper.
“I see the way you glare at her. You’re jealous. But you don’t want me like that.” He turns back to you offering a glass of amber liquid. Your stomach turns, never being much of a drinker.
Trying your best not to make a face, you sip at the drink.
“And how do you know what I want?” A flirtatious edge to your tone.
He takes a step too close to you. Angling his neck down to meet your face.
“I know what you want, because you’re just like her. A good girl that wants a good man to treat her right. Shower her with love and reassurance.”
He brushes the hair behind your ear, just as he did to Layla earlier.
“But I think there’s something different with you.” He toys with the end of your hair, wrapping it around his pointer finger.
You don’t even need to ask, he can read the question mark on your face.
He huffs a laugh to himself with a tight lipped grin.
Jake trails his fingertips, snaking them through to the hair at the nape of your neck.
“I think you’re a slut.” He tugs your hair with force, causing you to expose your throat.
He brings his mouth closer to the sensitive skin there, not letting his lips meet.
“See, my Layla, she doesn’t have that darkness behind her eyes that I see with you sometimes.”
The heat of his breath against you raises goosebumps to your skin.
“She’s sheltered and shy.” He flattens his tongue before dragging it up your neck, stopping just below your earlobe.
“But with you…” his voice is at a whisper now.
“With you, I think I could tell you ‘Open up’ and you’d spread so well for me.”
He kicks your feet apart, opening the space between your legs.
With his pointer and middle finger, he rubs the inseam of your leggings that follows your slit.
He watches your face as he starts at the front towards your clit, following the line back towards your entrance. When he reaches, he adds pressure to the circles he creates, pushing into you against the fabric.
You try your hardest to seem unphased by his lustful actions.
This isn’t right. Layla will be back any minute now. You think to yourself.
As if to read your mind he answers, “Better be quick then.”
Before you can process a response, his mouth meets yours with force.
His kiss is a parallel opposite of what you witnessed with Layla earlier.
His kiss with you is intense. Sloppy. Desperate with need.
Jake licks into your mouth, his tongue sliding over yours. He’s winning the battle of dominance, and you’re surrendering with ease.
He walks you backwards until he has you pressed against the closest wall.
In between gasps of air, he groans softly into your mouth.
You feel the calloused pads of his fingertips against the soft skin below your bellybutton as he tries to slip his hand beneath your leggings.
Just as fast as he snaked them in, he pulls his hand away.
You whimper from the loss of contact.
He breaks the heated kiss from you, panting to catch his breath.
“Take them off, now” he orders you.
Immediately you bend at the waist, taking one leg out at a time.
He studies the bare half of your body before gripping your face by your cheeks.
With his free hand he holds your neck to angle you just the way he wants you.
With clenched teeth he growls to you, “Do you always walk around your job with no underwear on like a fucking whore?”
His words alone cause you to rub your thighs together, craving any sense of friction from remaining untouched to this point.
He catches you red handed, and slaps the side of your thigh. His forceful touch leaving a sting that makes you want him even more.
Jake adds pressure to his thumb against your throat.
“Open.” He orders you once more.
You obey, spreading your feet apart, inviting him in.
He laughs softly to himself, “My girl. Such a good listener”
At last, the tip of his middle finger slides with ease through the center of your wetness.
From the look in his eyes, you can tell he loves to watch your reaction. Loves to see the approval of his work.
He teases the fingertip at your entrance. You buck your hips in his direction, silently pleading for more.
“You want it?” He looks down at you.
Your face is desperate as you nod to him.
His jaw clenches once more, “Fucking speak up.”
“Y-yes yes, Jake. I wan-“
Before you can finish your words, he shoves both his pointer and middle finger up inside of you, pumping them in and out at a steady rhythm.
His lips meet yours again. The two of you moaning into each other's mouths in harmony.
With each pump his fingers, he rocks his hips into you.
“…there’s something different with you” You think back on his words.
With your fingers wrapped around his wrist, you tug his hand from you - forcing his digits from inside of you.
“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” Your eyes lock with his as you watch them turn a darker shade of brown.
Without a word, he spins you around, your chest pressed against the cold white wall. He arches your hips for you to grant him better access.
“Fucking dirty.” He pants into your ear.
One hand is pressed to the side of your face, pushing you further against the wall, while the other fidgets with his belt.
You hear the sound of it as it hits the floor, his pants around his ankles.
“Lift up.” He taps your side, motioning for you to lift your arms above your head.
With a swift motion he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor.
Your back arches in hopes to close the space between you both.
Jake swipes your hair to one side, over your shoulder, unclasping your bra with one hand.
He leans in to press a delicate kiss upon your spine, simultaneously wrapping his arm around your hips to meet your clit with his finger.
You whine at the sensation of the slow but steady circles he presses into you.
He grips his length, slapping it against your ass.
“I’m not going to be nice.” His voice a low groan as he teases you with the tip of his cock, sliding through your slick.
“Please, Jake” your reply is muffled with your cheek pressed against the wall.
No warning. No mercy.
He slams his entire length inside of you to the hilt. The moans spilling out of you are closer to a scream.
He makes his own ponytail in your hair with his fist, tugging with force.
He grunts in unison with each pump inside of you. The tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot with each push.
The faster he pumps into you, the faster the circles against your clit become. With each swipe, he adds more force, pressing his finger harder against your bud.
“And when you leave this room…” he pants.
“Not a word. Not a suspicious look. Nothing.” He punctuates his sentence with a harsh smack to your ass.
Unable to respond from the overstimulation to your clit, and the pressure inside of you, Jake becomes frustrated. He pulls harder on your hair than he has yet.
“Do you hear me? Answer me.” Not once does he stop fucking into you.
“YES, Jake. Yes. Just…” your response is nothing but a whine.
He reaches around to pinch your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. He twists and pulls as you feel the warmth pool between your hips. That familiar feeling of your climax approach.
You grab his wrist again, forcing it back between your legs to your clit.
“So close” you mumble to him, begging him to finish you off.
Without hesitation he picks up exactly where he left off. Quick swipes against your throbbing clit.
He pulls himself all the way out of you, slamming himself back deep inside.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Unsure of how much more you can take.
Your muscles tighten to an uncomfortable extent as you hear three knocks at his dressing room door.
“Jake?” The door handle wiggles.
Immediately he wraps his hand around your mouth as he continues to fuck into you.
“Not a sound.” He whispers into your ear, his pace slows but his thrusts are deep.
“Are you in there? Why is the door locked?” Layla whines from outside.
Jake quickens his pace, both his cock inside of you and his fingers toying with your clit.
“Let go for me.” His whisper is even more quiet than before.
He feels your walls begin to tremble and constrict around him. The muscles of your abdomen tense as you prepare your release.
“That’s it. Keep going. Your pussy feels so much better than hers.” He mumbles into your ear, chasing his own high as well.
“Jake!!” Layla pounds on the door again, “5 minutes ‘til show. What the fuck are you doing?”
As the sensation of pleasure washes over you, your senses slip. Your eyes clenched shut, and ears ringing… there is no Layla. There is no show. There is no job.
Just you. And Jake. And the feeling of him inside of you.
He pulls out from you abruptly, his release following, sliding down the inside of your thigh.
He picks his pants up from around his ankles, and quickly fastens his belt.
You’re left remaining pressed to the wall, unable to move or process anything and everything that just transpired in the small dressing room.
What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of here without facing Layla?
Your thoughts paralyze you.
You feel his tight grip on both of your shoulders as he spins you around to plant a quick kiss to your lips.
And just like that, he slips through a crack in the door, open just enough so she can’t see inside.
Frozen in silence, you stand naked in the room alone as you listen to their muffled voices through the closed door.
“I couldn’t find Sam.” Her voice, defeated.
Jake clears his throat before responding.
“Don’t worry about it. I took care of it.”
Taglist: @gretasimp @writingcold @wowkakashi @spark-my-nature @gretavanbear
#gretavanfleet#gvf#jake kiszka#gvf smut#jake kiszka gvf#gvf fanfiction#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka x reader#greta van fleet fanfic#gvf fic
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I want trouble to go up to Peter and tell him to leave her alone PERMANENTLY bc that "no one is gonna try to date me bc we were seen together" shit is so annoying. I want her to tell him thats toxic and she would never do that to him pls
‘i unblocked you to yell at you.’
‘Please do.’
‘you’re toxic. you’re mean and toxic and holding me back. i would NEVER go around telling girls to watch out and be weary because you’re mine. it’s weird and gross.’
‘funny how you never wanna respond when you’re caught in your shit. you act like a tough guy but you can’t ever back it up.’
‘I’m not holding you back. I told Tarrent to stop his bullshit. It’s not on me if people still don’t want to mess around with you, I did what you asked.’
‘there’s an underlying threat and you know it.’
‘There isn’t.’
‘you know what? i didn’t wanna do this to you, parker but you made me.’
‘i’m gonna go out with zach kelph and you can’t do shit about it.’
‘That’s a low blow, trouble.’
‘Real low.’
‘you think it’s fun messing with me. it’s not my fault the only guy who isn’t scared is the guy you hate.’
‘if you were smarter you would’ve thought this through.’
‘I’m sorry that guys are blowing you off and making you feel shitty. That was all Tarrent, I had nothing to do with it. The worst I’ve done is follow you around, I never threatened anyone with violence. Even I know that’s too far.’
‘you didn’t stop it. you knew what was going on and you let it. you’re just as guilty.’
‘it’s a good thing zach doesn’t care.’
‘He’s not doing it because he likes you.’
‘He’s doing it because he hates me and knows you’re my only soft spot.’
‘you’re so selfish.’
‘you really have to make this about you?’
‘If you want to date other guys, go for it. I’m just letting you know Zach has zero good intentions. You’d be something to show off. That’s it.’
‘I CAN’T DATE OTHER GUYS!!!!’
‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THIS CONVERSATION???!!!!’
‘YOU FUCKING RUINED EVERYTHING!’
‘I COULDN’T PUT UP WITH YOU ANYMORE AND I FUCKING END IT AND YOU’RE STILL FUCKING WITH ME.’
‘date other guys he said!!! DATE OTHER GUYS???? I’VE BEEN TRYING!!!!’
‘asshole.’
‘i fucking hate you.’
‘i hate you so fucking much.’
‘i hate everything about you and i regret every fucking kiss and every time you fucked me and every time I THOUGHT YOU CARED ABOUT ME.’
‘you don’t like me. you never did.’
‘your aunt would be so so SO disappointed in you. i hope you know that. may would HATE who you are. this isn’t who she raised.’
‘surprise surprise. he has no response.’
‘I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to make an instagram post saying you’re free game? Do you want me to toss you to a friend? What do you want my answer to be?’
‘this is your fault.’
‘You dated a chapter member at the number one frat on campus, of course people aren’t going to move in on you two weeks after it ended.’
‘i didn’t date anyone.’
‘You’re right, everything we did was a waste of time and it never meant anything to me.’
‘oh?? he admits it??? wow. never thought i would’ve seen the day.’
‘Date who you want. Kiss who you want. Fuck who you want. But don’t do it to get back at me.’
‘And for the love of god don’t fucking pick Zach. This isn’t about my ego, trouble. Zach is a terrible person and he only wants to use you.’
‘you spelled parker wrong.’
‘You used to be nice to me.’
‘and i used to think you loved me.’
‘funny how wrong we both were about each other.’
‘I think you should block me again.’
‘you just love playing a martyr don’t you? you know you’ve never said sorry? not once? you never actually told me that you acknowledge you weren’t good to me and that you’re sorry it ended this way. that’s why i can’t stand you. you act like it still doesn’t matter. i just want real emotion from you and i still can’t get that. i mean come on peter. what else do you have to lose?’
‘It does matter to me. It matters a lot, trouble. I’m sorry I’m not crying to your voicemail but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking suck for me. It does. I miss you. A lot. I miss you waking me up every night, I miss you reading next to me, I miss you taking naps with me, I miss you every fucking minute of everyday.’
‘It fucking hurts to think about. Even worse to talk about it with you. It’s my fault. All of this is my fucking fault. How do I have any right telling you it hurts me too? I only hurt because of me.’
‘There’s nothing more I want to do than hug you and tell you how sorry I am but I can’t do that without breaking down. I can’t.’
‘i don’t believe you’re crying over me.’
‘Ask my disappointed aunt.’
‘You weren’t wrong about that.’
‘that was a little mean.’
‘It was honest.’
‘doesn’t mean it was nice.’
‘I really don’t deserve you being nice to me anymore. I’ll tell Tarrent to make it right, okay? I promise you can have any guy you want. Even… Zach Kelph.’
‘i don’t want zach. i just wanted to be heard.’
‘I listened. I’m trying, trouble. I promise I am.’
‘yeah. i’ve heard that before.’
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Jaded - Charlie Weasley
A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :)
Request - Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]
Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D
Your name: submit What is this?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jaded
Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated
Charlie fucking Weasley.
That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.
After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—
“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.
“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.
“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.
“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.
“You just did” he glared a little at you.
“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.
“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”
“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.
“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.
“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.
“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”
“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.
“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.
“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”
“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.
“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.
“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.
“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”
“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.
“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.
“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.
“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.
“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.
“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.
“What? Absolutely not!”
“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.
“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”
“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.
“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.
“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.
“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”
“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.
“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.
“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”
“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.
“I just don’t think that this-”
“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.
“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.
“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”
“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”
“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.
“Uh-”
“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.
*-*Flashback*-*
“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.
“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.
“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.
“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”
“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.
“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.
“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”
“Then sit down” he smirked.
“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.
“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”
“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.
“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.
“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.
“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”
“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”
“Give it, Nott!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Fine!”
Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.
“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.
“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.
“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.
“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”
“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”
“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.
“But I wasn’t-”
“NOW!”
“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.
“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”
“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.
“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.
“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”
“You are so… so-”
“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.
“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.
“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.
“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”
“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”
“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”
“I hope you end up an old spinster!”
“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”
“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.
“Make me!” you said smirking at him.
“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.
“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.
*-*End of Flashback*-*
“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”
“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself.
Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him.
To Be Continued
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N: so… part 2?
#harry potter#harry potter imagine#charlie weasley#charlie weasley x reader#charlie weasley imagine#charlie weasley series
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Change Your Ticket (Part 5)
Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)
Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,541
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
Notes: ugh. i don't like this one.
_________________________________________
“What?”
There’s no way she just said what you think she said. You wouldn’t be able to hear it with the pounding of your heart and your blood rushing through your ears, you can’t even decipher her next words as the floor falls from your feet.
How would she know that? You pride Mor on her innate ability to find out most information about almost anyone, she’s like a secret agent sometimes. Once, when Feyre had had told you and Mor that her sister Elain was to be engaged to a man no one in her family liked, Mor spent two nights digging into his socials and finding out everything she could about the bastard. To this day, Elain still doesn’t know who it was that sent her those anonymous screenshots and photos of him with another woman.
But right now, you don’t think it’s possible for Mor to have found something out like this. You and Cassian have been so careful, to the extend where you’d been a little paranoid even, always checking your surrounding and planning the times you and him meet up down to the second. You’re anal as fuck about it, but it’s worked for eight months. So why isn’t it working right now?
“I know you don’t want me to repeat myself,” Mor huffs down the line, but her voice is all static, your ears ringing. Your phone is buzzing incessantly in your fingers and your arm is numb with it. You’re terrified to pull the device from your ear, not knowing who or what kind of messages you’re receiving right now.
The elevator rings, signaling its arrival to your floor, and the doors sliding open almost feel like a death sentence. On numb legs, you step forward and off the elevator, Mor’s voice still echoing in your head. You’re dating Cassian Bailey?
Bright flashes jolt you from your thoughts. Whipping your head to where the front entrance is located, you quint, holding your hand up to block some of the glare. Your stomach drops to the floor at the sight. A crowd of paparazzi wait outside, snapping pictures of you through the lobby’s clear windows.
Holy shit. This is real. This is really fucking happening.
You’re not prepared in the slightest. You don’t know what to do, your mind is racing with a thousand thoughts a second and the strobes coming from the front of your building blind you, leaving white spots in your vision, taking out another one of your senses. Mor is rambling on in your ear, shrill sounding, and if you could make out the words through your muddled mind, you figure she’s scolding you and feeling a bit betrayed by you keeping this a secret from one of your closest friends.
Outside, the people shout. Their words are muffled by the thick glass, but it only adds to the anxiety scorching your veins. The collar of your shirt tightens around your throat and your breathing turns shakey. You’re frozen to the spot, halfway out of the elevator, the doors trying to slide closed but your body against the sensor keeps them angrily pulling back open.
The people waiting for the elevator upstairs are probably pissed.
“Mor?” you ask, and she falls silent. You must not sound like yourself because Mor never lets anyone interrupt her. Ever.
“Yeah?” Her tone is cautious, obviously picking up the emotion—or lack thereof—in your tone.
“What’s going on?”
It’s the only thing you can think to say. Your mind is being hammered with thoughts and the bright lights trying to blind you aren’t helping in the slightest but your feet are frozen to the ground. You know you look like a deer in headlights and that you should move, force yourself to do anything besides stand here like a fool for them to get all of the pictures they want—
Your body surges into action, striding out of the elevator and turning down the hall, giving them your back. You can hear their pathetic pleas for you to turn around and walk their way, but you know better than that. They’re here for one thing and one thing only—to see exactly who Cassian Bailey is sticking his dick into.
Rumors and stories will be swirling by tonight. Your phone buzzes in your hand again and you’re sure these pictures are already up in the tabloids, social media, every inch of the internet they can reach. You wonder if Cassian’s seen any of it and then remember that he’s finishing up practice, so he won’t be by his phone to see all of this for at least another hour.
You’re all alone in this.
Mor sighs your name sadly, and your chest squeezes tight as you round a corner, putting a wall between you and the paparazzi. What she’s about to say isn’t going to be something that you want to hear, but maybe it will make it all the more real.
“There was a picture of you in the Morning Mail,” she explains, and your throat tightens. The Morning Mail is a stupid tabloid online that updates every morning. Most of the time it’s filled with silly stories of random acts of kindness or pranks gone wrong with the occasional post about the current celebrity gossip. You didn’t even know that many people followed the account. Mor does because she’s been on their feed a few times and it gained her thousands of followers overnight. “You’re wearing his shirt.”
You want to choke. You never leave the house in Cassian’s clothes; you make sure of that. You’ve been so careful all this time, parking down the street from his place when you visit, forcing him to take a car and get dropped off since people are surely tracking his personal license plates. You don’t sit with the other families in the stadium at the home games, and Cassian doesn’t even follow you on social media.
You’re wearing his shirt, you echo, wracking your brain for any chance you may have slipped up. Nothing comes to mind, and when you hang your head, it hits you full force; the t-shirt you’d stolen of his in your rush to avoid his more than cheeky attitude this morning. Distracted by his wandering hands, his charming smile, you’d shoved one of his on, tucking it into your slacks before rushing out the door.
“Fuck,” your voice wobbles, tears pricking your eyes and emotion thickening your throat. It’s a black fucking cotton t-shirt, and apart from the sheer size of it and how it hangs loosely from your body, you haven’t the slightest idea of how they know it’s his. But it is, and they know.
A quick glance around the corner has your heart stammering in your chest. The photographers look like a bunch of wild animals, climbing over each other trying to catch a glimpse of you. You pray that their flashes are reflecting off of the glass and ruining their photos, but surely, your luck has completely run out if this is how your Monday is going.
You need to get out of here, now.
“I’ve already called Feyre,” Mor says down the line, and you’re confused on why you weren’t the first call she’d made when she continues. “My attempts went right to voicemail, and I called you right back as soon as I let her know. We’re already on our way to your place but we can swing by if you want a ride?”
“Yeah, I—”
“(Y/N)?” Tarquin’s voice startles you as he peeks around the corner. His bleached brows are furrowed deeply, a frown painting his face when he catches the frazzled look on your face. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Ah, so he’s also seen the mass of crazies outside trying to capture a front cover photo of you.
You have a choice right now, to lie to your coworker and say that you have no idea what’s going on or who they’re trying to take pictures of, or confide in your best work friend who’s been with you since the start. Literally, you both started on the same day and have been inseparable since.
You choose the latter.
“Would you mind giving me a ride home?” you ask, holding your hand over the speaker of your phone while you talk to Tarquin. “It seems as though my car is surrounded by strangers.”
With a quick glance back in the direction to the front doors of the building, Tarquin agrees, tone hesitant and a little confused, but he’s gracious nonetheless. “Sure, I can do that. Let me bring my car around the back and I’ll pick you up there?”
You nod, thankful. “Yes, please. Thanks, Tarq, you’re the best.”
He smirks genuinely and you’d roll your eyes at his antics if you weren’t shaking down to the bone. With a wink, Tarquin makes his way through the crowd, and you can hear his cheerful voice as he shoved through the doors, obviously loving all of the attention.
“Mor?” you ask into your phone once he’s gone, “I’ve got a ride, just meet me at my place.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
“So…are we going to talk about why all of those people were asking me about you and trying to get pictures?” Tarquin asks once you’ve successfully made it out into the busy traffic and away from the fleet of paparazzi surrounding your place of work.
Tarquin had picked you up at the back of the building and you all but dove into his car before any of the photographers could catch a glimpse of you. Your coworker had shoved a baseball cap in your direction, one with the Sealion’s logo on it that you reluctantly shoved on your head, slumping down in your seat so you weren’t seen.
Your phone has been buzzing constantly, and you’re worried you might actually have to get a new number with the onslaught of texts, calls, and notifications threatening to send your phone into the same shock you’re currently experiencing. Your parents have even been trying to get through, but you haven’t had the guts to answer any of them or even dare to look on any social media platform. You’ve just been staring at the screen, constantly lit with incoming messages, buzzing fervently in your lap.
You glance at the clock on the radio, blinking 5:32. How could your entire world have turned upside down in the matter of thirty-two minutes? You’ve gone from normal girl working a nine to five at a graphic design firm to Cassian Bailey’s girlfriend all because of a fucking plain t-shirt.
You don’t know if you’ll ever get over that, the fact that an oversized, black cotton t-shirt is your downfall in all of this. It’s mind-boggling to believe that someone had connected the dots that quickly, but there are some avid fans of Cassian’s that you wouldn’t dare to go head-to-head with.
“What’s there to talk about?” you speak softly, defeated. With a sigh, you shut your phone off. It’s the best way to avoid what’s going on on the internet until you can wrap your head around everything and what you plan to do about it. You’re exhausted already, just attempting to think about it. You let your head fall to the side, the leather squeaking against your head as you look over at your friend. “You heard them, Tarq.”
Everything that you’ve worked for, your privacy, your art, might all be ruined. Gaining your own following in the graphic design community had been hard, and now that you’re about to be known by the world doesn’t sit right with you. How are you supposed to make really work-related connections when people might only be seeking you out to get closer to Cassian? The thought of being used like that makes your stomach roil. Your trust issues are about to be through the roof.
You stare back out at the traffic and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Your brain hurts and you just want to be in the safety of your home.
“So, you’re dating Cassian Bailey,” Tarquin says, like if he almost can’t believe it himself. A sharp pinch to your shoulder has your eyes shooting open and your body bolting upright, only for the seatbelt to lock and nearly choke you.
Yelping, you glare at your friend, but his ice blue eyes are focused on the road. “Hey! What was that for?”
“For not telling me, obviously,” Tarquin scoffs, glancing over his shoulder and flicking on his turn-signal to switch lanes. You peek out of the passenger mirror, anxious that one of the photographers caught a glimpse of you leaving and has somehow followed you thus far.
“I didn’t tell anyone, if it makes you feel better.”
You’re answered with a roll of his eyes.
You don’t know what to say, how to respond to Tarquin, how to respond to any of this. All you want to do is crawl in a hole and hide away for the next few years. How are you supposed to go about your day normally when everything is anything but normal? You’ll be expected to show up with Cassian now, be there in the crowd for the home matches, you know people will be looking for you.
A headache splits your skull at the thoughts running rampant in your mind. There are so many things to think about now, each and every move you make is going to have to be calculated. You’ll have to think about what you’re going to wear, how you’ll present yourself, thinking about what to say before you speak. Anything you do now will reflect on Cassian’s career, and fans will be blaming you for his mistakes.
It's all too much.
“How long has this been going on?” Tarquin asks softly, as if sensing you’re stuck in your head and need help getting out. You don’t really want to talk about you and Cassian at all right now, but you shove those impending thoughts aside with a sigh, and talk to your friend.
“A little over eight months, now.”
“Is he hung?”
You splutter, choking on your saliva, and Tarquin laughs. This, this is why he’s your favorite coworker. Tarquin isn’t afraid of saying what’s on his mind, no matter how HR unfriendly the question may be.
“I’m not answering that,” you laugh, craning your neck to look out the window, hiding your hot face. The blush staining your cheeks is answer enough.
Tarquin tuts, turning down your street. It’s empty, and you breathe a sigh of relief when he pulls up to your building and there isn’t a crowd of people shouting your name and trying to take your picture. A little of the tension eases from your shoulders.
“Do you want me to pick you up for work in the morning?” Tarquin asks, pulling over to let you out.
You shake your head, gathering your things. “I’m going to call in sick tomorrow. Don’t know what I’m going to do after that. Do you think Alis will let me work from home permanently?” You ask. Alis, your boss, is a strict woman who you can’t seem to figure out if she likes or dislikes anyone that works for her.
Tarquin huffs, “I doubt it. She’s tough as nails, that one.”
“Might just have to quit then, I suppose.”
Your friend’s jaw drops and he looks at you with eyes of betrayal. “You are not going to leave me with the wolves like that! I’ll come drag your ass out of this apartment everyday if I need to.”
“But if I quit, you’ll get to take over Tamlin’s project,” you tease, and his eyes widen comically. He hadn’t thought about that one, apparently. Unlatching the lock, you slide out of the vehicle. You lean down, looking back at your coworker. “Thanks for the ride, Tarq. I’ll text you later.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Feyre and Mor meet you at the door to your apartment, their arms packed with grocery bags filled with candles, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and a lot of alcohol.
“You look like you need it,” Feyre had said when you eyed the bottle of vodka she’d unloaded on your counter.
You do.
You have no appetite, picking at the crust of your slice of pizza. Your stomach stirs sickly, the never-ending thoughts consuming you as you fill your two best friends in on the last eight months you’ve spent with Cassian, from when you’d accidentally run into him at the grocery store late one night after a horrible date gone wrong, to this morning, when you’d slipped into his shirt and hastily left for work. You’d left out the part about Cassian trying to seduce you back into bed, but your friends got most of the story.
“This is insane,” you groan, shoving your plate away from yourself with a sigh. “What the hell am I going to do?”
You hadn’t turned your phone back on, you hadn’t wanted to. You left it in your room when you’d gotten home and changed into your most comforting clothes, stuffing that fucking shirt that got you caught to the bottom of your hamper in rage.
Snuggling deeper into your hoodie, you drag the bottle of vodka closer to yourself, pouring a heavy-handed shot. The alcohol burns your throat on the way down and you grimace, focusing on the burn instead of the pricking at the back of your eyes that hadn’t gone away since you’d all but fallen into your best friends’ arms.
“First, we’re going to need to start brainstorming how to get you out of this. Thankfully, I have a little bit of experience with this sort of thing.”
And she does. Mor has been in the tabloids more than a few times, and most of the time it’s a semi-true story with made-up aspects to really make it seem juicier than it is. She was once photographed coming out of a popular restaurant at the same time actor Harry Hybern was headed in to meet with some friends, and the media had a field day with it. As much as she liked the actor, Mor was upset with the fact that he is thrice her age. You would’ve hated being on the other side of that phone call when she’d dialed the magazine that printed the article, demanding a retraction.
“What’s the first thing you usually do when this sort of thing happens?” you ask. Maybe talking to Mor about her experiences in the public eye will make you feel a little better, if not offer an idea of what you can do yourself.
“See how cute I look in the pictures,” Mor answers, unabashed.
You huff out a laugh in response, Feyre giggling into her glass. “That’s the first thing I do when I see you in the media too, Mor,” she says with a grin, “That vomit green look from the other day? Not your best work, and (Y/N)’s plain black t-shirt tucked into her slacks was so cute! I’m totally stealing that look.”
“Go ahead,” you wave her off because you’re never wearing it again.
Mor glares a little, pouting. “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Helping our friend and her sudden fame. I’m thinking Cassian’s dick will take care of most of the emotional turmoil,” she says and Feyre laughs a little too hard. Mor reaches into the bag and pulls out a notebook, flipping it to the first page. “We’ll start with some brainstorming—"
A knock at the door startles you from your wallowing. Back straightening, you glance at your friends taking up the other side of the kitchen island, eyes wide and heart hammering in your chest.
“What if it’s more photographers?” you whisper, and your fingers tremble a little so you clench them instead.
Mor and Feyre share a glance, a flash of worry crossing their features as if they hadn’t thought about it.
“I’ll get it,” Feyre decides, placing her half-drunk glass on the counter as she stands. The blanket droops from her shoulders, flopping onto the back of her stool like you want to be right now, a puddle of fabric and emotions. “If it’s them, I’ll say that this is my place and I don’t know who you are.”
“Good idea,” Mor compliments, nudging your glass with the beck of her hand. She gives you a soft, encouraging smile. “Drink up, (Y/N). It’s probably not the paps, but we’ve got to get you less paranoid so you can think better.”
“Not sure getting wasted is going to help with my thinking,” you mutter, tipping your glass back anyway, “But whatever.” Mor is ready when you remove the empty cup from your lips, already pouring you more. You’re glad to have such amazing friends to drop what they’re doing and come over in your time of turmoil, and they haven’t even laid into you yet about keeping this huge secret from them.
Small victories, and all that.
“(Y/N)?” Feyre calls from the other room. She sounds shocked, almost, and the sound of it makes you want to throw the blanket over your head and cower like a fool. “It’s definitely not the paparazzi.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash @kennedy-brooke @tothestarsandwhateverend @azsteris @obsessivereaderchick @aalxrose @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover @bookishbroadwaybish @itsinherited @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @vellichor01
#cassian x reader#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#cassian#rugby!cassian#cassian au#change your ticket#acotar au
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A very timid Hello from your best customer broko loco anyway hi I'm out of my request block anyway
How about some hurt/comfort with our baby gurl
Tara Carpenter
I had two prompts in mind either Tara having a nightmare about Gf killing R Orrrrrrr It was her killing R (
SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SREAM VI YOU'VE BEEN WARNED
(because she killed Ethan so her subconscious is making her see herself killing R) so R comforts her and reassures her
or
R getting into a fight when she was taking a stroll with Tara and Sam because some 4ssh0l3$ called our Fav duo murderers so Tara is patching up R afterwards
or
R taking care of T after the 2nd massacre like bringing her thing (painkillers, snacks, food, cuddles)
Those were my ideas but you can also do whatever you want Idm
Have a good day broko loco <3
Motherfucker
Tara Carpenter x reader
A/n: so I haven’t really been writing lately and I need to get back into it so yeah
“It’s just so much you know” Tara complained as you two and Sam walked around New York City. It was a small tradition you build up as soon as you moved here. You walked around to figure out the best ways through the city, it made Sam feel safer while you and Tara just liked to walk around. Her hand was slipped into yours, fingers carefully intervened.
Tara loved complaining about college during these walks, you loved listening to her and Sam would do anything for her little sister. There were a lot of people who didn’t recognized you guys but some did. Nobody ever said something, you were unsure of wether it was because of sams killer glare or just their common sense but you were happy about it.
You knew them during the attacks in woodsboro but you weren’t with them. At least not until the end, you and Tara kept your little flirt private which was why you weren’t attacked. You only arrived when everybody else was dead, you were at the party and you forgot your phone which was why you turned around. The way Tara broke down into your arms made you believe everything she told you, there was no way that she faked that.
“I know, but you’ll be fine. You’re a fighter through and through and something like college won’t bring you down” you told her, squeezing her hand for good measure. “She’s right, you’re gonna do great” Sam added smiling at her sister before checking the street over her shoulder.
You walked through a small park where a group of three boys, around 22, sat and watched the three of you. You watched them suspiciously, slipping your hand out of Tara’s and instead slipping your arm around her waist to pull her closer. Tara smiled up at you, unaware of the situation while Sam looked out for a man around the corner. You listened carefully, hoping to hear any kind of movement but it was quite for a moment.
“Look, that’s the murderer and her slut sister. I knew I recognized them from somewhere” one of the boys said causing you to slow down. “Fucking murderer. Both of them. They should have ended dead” another one added which made you stop. “I’d still fuck the slut tho” the third one said which finally made you snap. You turned on your heel and stalked over to the group. “What did you just say?!” You nearly screamed out on your way, Tara still standing at the same spot completely confused while Sam had a stare down with the man around the corner.
“What’s your problem huh?” You asked again, stepping up to the one who said he’d fuck Tara. “I could ask you the same thing, why don’t you go away with your two murderer friends?” He asked puffing out his chest, trying to scare you. At every other time you’d probably been scared but not now, now all you could feel was rage. “Say that again and watch what happens asshole” you dared. “They are murderer” the one next to him said. You were quick to punch him straight in the face, his nose immediately started bleeding and his eye started to swell. The one you talked to before drew his arm back but you were quick enough to dodge it, not seeing the third one make his way towards you, his fist landing in your stomach causing you to groan. You turned as quick as you could, your fist landing in his stomach this time before you turned and kicked the other one to the ground.
By now Sam was done with her stare down and finally noticed your fight, “fuck y/n” she mumbled and went to your help but Tara held her back. “She will kill you if you go there, she’s fighting because they called you a murderer and if you hit them it will be contra productive” she explained, it pained her to see you like this but she knew you were strong and she didn’t want Sam to suffer even more.
It took you five more minutes before they finally gave up, your face and hands were bruised and you were spitting blood but you won. “Gosh, you’re so stupid” Tara mumbled as she ran up to you and hugged you, pulling you close to her which caused you to wince. “Are you alright?” Sam asked as she walked closer, wrapping an arm around you shoulder. “M fine. Thanks. Can we maybe go back?” Both of them nodded and turned around to walk back to your apartment.
This time Tara wasn’t holding your hand, she was scared that she’d hurt you. The nervousness and the guilt was radiating off of her, so you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her into you which made her calm down. Sam was also somewhere else with her mind but you knew that something like a hug wouldn’t fix that and you knew she wasn’t going to talk about it in front of Tara so you decided to ask her about it later.
When you arrived home Tara immediately ran to the bathroom to get some things for your knuckles, giving you a moment with Sam. “You alright?” You asked her quietly so T wouldn’t hear.
“Yeah, it’s just that… thank you y/n. You protected us and you stood up for us. It was the nicest thing anyone ever did for us so, thanks” she answered squeezing your shoulder before disappeared into her room.
“I got everything that may be helpful. Like gauze, disinfectant, bandaids and some other stuff” she told you, quickly pulling everything out and cleaning your wounds on your hand. You kissed when the disinfectant started to seep into your flesh. The brunette quickly apologized before putting on the band aids.
When your hand was finally cleaned she moved on to your face, focusing on the wound above your eye. This time she warned you before putting on the disinfectant, which made it a bit less worse. You couldn’t help but admire her focused face, the way she bit her tongue and how her brows furrowed. It nearly made you forget about your headache.
“Do you need anything else? I’ll give you some painkillers as soon as you’re in bed and some snacks too” she told you and you smiled before pulling her closer to plant a small kiss on her lips. “Thank you” you said before kissing her another time and another, distracting her from her work.
“Stop, I gotta clean the rest of your wounds and I wanna take a look at your stomach” she giggled when she finally convinced herself to pull away. “And you taste like blood” she added. You smiled sheepishly and kissed her one last time before pulling back.
She sat on your lap as she looked at the cut you had on your lip, her legs on either side of you as she titled your head down to get a better angle. “This Looks okay I guess” she mumbled to herself as her fingers carefully touched the wound. You were getting bored and started to play with the hem of her shirt.
When she was done with your face she moved on to your stomach, there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. It was a bit bruised but there werent any cuts nor any placed that were so sensitive that she should be worried.
You both got changed and laid in bed, Tara made you swallow some painkillers and gave you some of your favorite chips before letting you decide what to watch. She made sure that you iced your hand and your nose, even if it might not be comfortable. She knew that you didn’t like the cold but there was nothing she could do. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Her voice was soft and still filled with guilt which made you hurt inside.
“T, you know that I did it on my own account right? It’s not your fault or anything. I decided to do what I did” you said as you cuddled closer to her. Her body melting into your which made you melt too. “And even more important, I’d do it again and again because nothing is as important to me as you are” you added and kissed her head.
“I love you, a lot. Not just because of what you did today obviously” she grinned and titled her head up motioning for you to give her a kiss which you did.
“I love you too baby” you grinned as your hand rubbed up and down her back.
#reader insert#brooooswriting#jenna ortega x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#sam carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you
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Can we have the after math of finding out it’s Billy? I’m fricken hooked on your writing.
A/N: You’re so sweet I’m flustered🥹 I’m in love with Billy Loomis so ask and you shall receive! This one’s a little short but I wasn’t too sure what direction to take it. Please leave more requests, I love them!
Familiar Pt. 2
Billy Loomis x F!Reader
Word Count: 800
Summary: Billy knows he has to kill you. He just can’t bring himself to do it.
TW: Thoughts of violence, suggestive, Billy is a murderer, Knives and Blood
Billy watched your face go from ecstasy to pure shock, horror, disbelief. You lay on your bed, vulnerable and spread for him, willingly giving your body to a serial killer, eyes wide and lips trembling as you whisper his name.
“…B-Billy?” You stuttered out, pretty cheeks turning a deeper shade of red, if that was even possible. A slap echoed throughout the room because of how hard you slapped your legs together, sitting up and covering your body completely, shaky hands searching for clothes or a blanket to cover yourself with. Billy was amused by this.
“You’re okay with fucking a faceless stranger but not a friend?” He teased, lips still flush and slick from your past activity. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, stomach doing backflips. Billy was who you’d been sleeping with all this time? You felt betrayed, but at the same time you thought it was the hottest thing ever that he had been keeping it a secret. On the other hand…this meant that your best friend, your Billy, was a killer.
“I…I don’t…” words wouldn’t form. Your brain was moving way too fast for your mouth.
With a sneaky hand he reached down to his black boot, yanking the Bowie knife from its side. “Thought I told you to keep your eyes shut, pretty girl.”
Hearing his voice instead of the modulator made your heart flutter. You’d yearned for years for Billy to call you his, be able to kiss him, hang on his arm during lunch like Sydney did. You found it hard to be scared of the knife in a moment like this, your feelings for Billy blocking your fear.
“I’m sorry Billy, I…you sounded so familiar I-I…I just needed to see you.”
Billy froze. Usually, killing people was no big deal for him. Slice and dice, go home, maybe get a snack and watch a movie, go to bed. He stood still, knife pointed towards you threateningly, but as he stared into your puppy dog eyes and heard you say his name so sweetly, he was reminded of why he kept coming to see you.
You were his escape from everything. The plan. Pretending to be in love with Sydney was exhausting, he hated her. She looked just like her mother, and he couldn’t wait to kill her, but you. He liked spending time with you, and the fact that you willingly slept with Ghostface, not knowing it was him, could make him cum on the spot.
You were just as fucked up as he was.
He stepped forward, pressing the knife gently against your cheek and pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear with it. “Such a shame.” He said softly, trying to hype himself up somehow. Convince himself to get rid of you, like he knew he had to.
You didn’t know where to look. You stayed still, frozen, scared that any move would cost you your life. Finally, you stared up at him. “Please. I’m not going to tell anyone.” You whispered, hand creeping up towards Billy’s.
He didn’t move. He let you touch his hand, gently grasping his wrist. You didn’t push the knife away from his face like he expected, instead, you held it still and pushed your cheek into it slightly. A bead of blood welled at the surface of your skin, trailing warmth down your face. Before the blood could reach your jawline, Billy lowered the knife in shock.
He could trust you. He knew he could. Stu would be pissed off. Should he tell you that Stu’s in on it too? Maybe not yet.
He dropped the knife onto the bed, watching it bounce off your plush comforter, making him think about everyone who’s died at its blade. “I believe you. But I’m gonna need some collateral.” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face.
You were confused, eyebrows furrowed and head shaking slightly. “What do you mean?” Your voice was still timid. Billy’s large hand moved past you, grabbing the knife again and with the other hand, he grabbed yours. The handle of his knife was cold, haunting in your innocent hand.
“Stu’s party on Friday.” He said, stroking the dull side of the blade as it sat heavy in your palm. “You…help me.”
Your stomach dropped in horror. He wanted you to kill someone. “Who?” You asked, wide eyes staring at the shining steel. He grinned his perfect grin at you, enticing you with his good looks that you’d admired for years.
“Tatum.”
#slasher x reader#slashers#horror movies#horror fanfiction#slasher x y/n#ghostface#ghostface fanfiction#billy loomis x y/n#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader
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Meet Cute
Mat Barzal x Hughes!sister
Part of the Birdie Hughes AU
Summary: In which Birdie goes to an art museum, is unimpressed, and runs off with someone more entertaining to look at.
The art was beautiful but after circling around once she had seen all she needed to. Making a few comments here and there with other visitors she finally decided it was well past her time to leave. She had been here long enough to have a few things to talk about with her coworker.
But one man scowling at a painting caught her attention before she could make her way out.
“You look unimpressed.” She says coming up to stand beside him.
“Art isn’t really my thing, I'm here with friends who are here with girlfriends. I just don’t get the appeal of staring at it for minutes on end trying to understand it. I look at it, see if I think it's pretty, then move on. I’ve already looked at everything and have just been walking around.”
“Yeah I get it, certainly not everyone’s scene. If you don’t spend your days looking disinterested at art, what do you do?”
“I’m a hockey player.”
“Of course you are” Birdie mumbles. She can never get away from them.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“What about you?”
“I work in a museum.” She says chuckling, knowing the reaction she is about to get.
“Oh fuck I’m so sorry. I totally just- is this- do you work here?”
“Calm down. I work in a history museum. Art isn’t my thing that much either. One of my coworkers raved about this exhibit but I knew I wouldn’t like it. I don’t know why I felt the need to go.” Looking at the man beside her though, she was thankful she did.
“Thank god someone agrees. I felt like an asshole. Plus, I thought we were going to stay for 45 minutes tops and then get food but it's been over an hour. I’m starving.”
“There is a great Mexican place two blocks down if you’d like to try? Although maybe you should stay with your-”
“Sounds great, let's go. I like them but they all can fuck off for all I care right now, I am so hungry.” He laughs as they walk out into the night.
✺✺✺✺✺✺✺
The food was great, the conversation flowed easily, and Birdie had been sitting with one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen.
“How can you come from such a talented hockey family and not play?” He asks, something many people do, something she asked herself when she decided she was done with the sport.
“I loved it, still do. And I was good, the Hughes genes didn’t miss me. But, I realized in high school I enjoyed playing with my family more. I am just not a competitive person and liked playing for fun rather than to win. Something my family didn’t understand for a while, which I don’t blame them for. I, of course, still watch and support my brothers. I love those idiots to death, but it wasn’t my scene.”
“So now you do museums?” Mat internally scolds himself at the stupidity of what he just said.
“Something like that.” She chuckles. “I am a museum educator. I help provide interactive experiences from young children to adults. I focus on history. So no art.”
“Good, I’m glad I didn’t offend you within seconds of meeting you.”
The night continued on like this till they were both bleary eyed and yawning. Deciding to end it with a quick kiss on the cheek and exchanged numbers, she felt giddy as she walked into her room.
She knew she had to call Quinn.
Taglist: @tpwkstiles
A/N: Call with Quinn coming up next !
#nhl imagine#jack hughes x reader#luke hughes x reader#quinn hughes x reader#mat barzal x reader#Birdie Hughes au ☀️
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