#like if you are the host you can decide the theme

[mblue-art]

i’m curious about your take on strawberry nightmare! to you, what’s he like? how does he act? what’s he all bout?

He is annoying (/aff hehe), and even more so to regular Nightmare. I tried to figure out (still am, I guess) how to put the flavor theming and '2P!' thing together, but here's what I have in my head for him ^^ (ramble warning!)

Finding out that the concept of '2P!' variants existed in UTMV too, made me happy! Usually 2P!s are inverted or flipped versions of the original character— think Fell'd or Swap'd versions in UTMV terms— so I thought:

Huh. If he's supposed to be a flipped version of Nightmare, would he have similarities with Swap!Dream? 🤔 But softer, nicer? 'cause he's also strawberry milk-themed! 🍓 flavors and aesthetics can be associated with soft, nice, sweet, cheery, and pretty...

(And sometimes, behind that pretty pink, lies red danger. While regular Nightmare clearly shows that he is a threat, S!NM hides it behind a layer of sweetness; (like a yandere— I explored yandere S!NM here), like a 'nice' character hiding their bad side—

But don't worry! Only those who are deserving of his wrath will face it. He's mean when he needs to. The simps are safe, as well as the people he cherishes! He can be a patient man. Just don't be on his bad side and you'll be a-ok! 👍(⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

He's like... If regular NM decided to go uwu for the bit, but forever.........(/hj)

He is friendly, a flirt, flips between being all cutesy and rizzing up the simps,

nicely offers you (suspicious— he loves making people doubt LOL) pink sweets in exchange for company or simply as thanks for spending time with him

(A king can feel so lonely sometimes 😩😔 esp w/o his dear brother around... so maybe he has a massive pink house instead of a castle :] Oooh, imagine how pink and aesthetic the interior would be...),

likes messing with the original Nightmare (Ah!! NM hosting parties! Him getting invited! Yes, he'd def talk to the king of the castle but tries to be civil! This is a nice fancy party with lots of people around; he's not gonna ruin this for anyone 😤 he just wants to socialize!!)

(Yes he owns a few creative 🍓-themed suits, why wouldn't he lean towards his aesthetic 😤)

Like any Guardian of Feelings, he can manipulate/control emotions. He can pull out one's negative emotions to calm them down, and he can also make one feel nervous or any other mix of feelings in his presence, just like how his original counterpart does.

As for his role in the multiverse, I'd say he honestly just tries to have fun. Yk, jus a lil chaos. Teehee. No multiverse domination or anything, he just likes being a menace to people hehehe

An idea I thought of a few times is him hinting that he has visited Nightmare's castle (whether he actually talked to NM or not) by leaving strawberry milk (carton/bottle) in the fridge for the others to see and be confused by.

'hey guys where's my choccy milk? did any of you drink it?? it was my last box!' - 'why is there strawberry milk again... none of you drink this...' - 'who keeps getting this pink stuff'

NM eventually informs them about this visitor, and to be cautious, just... Don't drink whatever pink thing he leaves in the fridge.

I've never really thought of what S!NM's backstory would be, what him and his Dream's 'Dreamtale AU' would be, so right now, he's just... There one day (lol) with a brother that keeps? running away from him?? (His Dream is 🟦 instead of 🟨! (I saw an artist drew him as such) And while 🍓 is happy and excited, 🔵 is kinda gloomy... Interesting to see a happy Negativity Guardian and a grumpy Positivity Guardian...)

You can scroll through the #snm asks tag to read past (mostly simp) shenanigans with him, and you can also click these links for my other rambleposts about him ^^

#ask #mblue talks #m rambles #snm asks #took me a while bc i had to yoink the thoughts that were floating in the clouds orz #i'm still! interested about hearing people's takes on him too!! :D

[random-fandom1984]

Hi!! 😆

May I request TFP Yandere Soundwave x human reader?

Thank for reading this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง✨

Sorry if it doesn't have that much yandere as you were hoping for.

Okay, so, the only way I can see that you could've gotten his attention is either you're related to one of the three human charges – family or friend. Because of that, you don't know about the Autobots and Decepticons.

Soundwave was given the mission to find out more about the human pets, through humans that are close to them. Out of all of their family and friends, he chose you.

He only went through some of your info, and you're a friend of Miko's host parents that lives in a state up north, in Gravity Falls, Oregon (Yes, I'm making a little crossover with GF, but TFP came out 2 years before Gravity Falls existed, so Weirdmageddon hasn't happened yet, nor have the Pine Twins visited yet.)

You've met Miko a few times when you've came to visit, and it's best to say you don't like how loud, irresponsible, foolish, and doesn't understand people's boundaries. You were a rather quiet introverted person, and she was an overbearing extrovert, so you two didn't mix well.

When it was Christmas last year, they were at your family gathering, and she almost got your cousins hurt with firecrackers, who were mainly toddlers and young children. She even said, quote-unquote, that "They needed to live a little and not have helicopter parents deciding everything for them." The thing was that your aunts and uncles weren't helicopter parents, they were normal, calm, and understanding parents!

Miko was one of the main reasons why you lost faith in humanity, and you despised her with a burning passion. You even told this to her in her face, but she would say that you're just grumpy and should take a nap. As if you were a little child that didn't know better!

You work as an online artist that takes request for people who can't draw certain things like, animals, details, DND characters, Oc's etc.

As time went on, he was starting to get obsessed with learning more about you, and he knows more about you than anyone else you know in your life. Your favorite animal are birds, your favorite color is d/s/f/c (Dark Shade of Favorite Color), you hate people, don't like talking, have a pet European Starling named Jermey, after the crow in the Secret of Nimh because of his love for shiny and sparkly things, who is also the model for your watermarks on your designs, you like dying your hair, and so much more.

You were having a normal day, doing a live stream as you were taking requests from your viewers, when this one person in particular to do a city made out of metal, the people are robots that can transform, and even gave you an image that they "made" that was called Kaon. Interested, you took up this challenge.

It was safe to say that Soundwave wasn't disappointed with the end results of it; It looked magnificent. The image of his home was nostalgic of the good old days of Cybertron, when it wasn't just him and Laserbeak, when all of his children minicons were still alive.

The two of you kept in contact and became friends on the internet. You would tell each other about how your days went; you were told that he works as one of the higher ups in a company, has to deal with an annoying, loud, arrogant assistant of his boss – reminds you of a certain someone –, has a pet bird, is introverted, doesn't talk, doesn't like humanity- you're already hooked.

You turned a blind eye to things, like how he somehow knows where you live, find out about private accounts on social media, knows that you're talking to someone even when there's barely any people around, kind of seeming jealous/overprotective over text. The hardest one to do is when someone insults or steals your art, only to end up severely or lightly wounded somewhere between the next day to the end of the week, saying that a robot version of Slenderman or a metal bird that has an origami themed shape, etc.

There were a few things that caught your attention. How he uses the wrong terminology for things such as units time, parts of the body, even saying organics, fleshies, humans instead of people or others by their names. You were suspicious but brushed it off every time it happens.

At the beginning of Soundwave's his sire growing obsession, Laserbeak didn't even understand what was so great about you. But it changed when he was shot down by Autobots and landed out in the woods, you found him, and repaired him. During his stay, he made friends with Jeremy, and during repairs, you were gentle as you could be when fixing him up, your touched were light, you asked if what you were doing was alright, and he honestly thought of those human films where the mother would help their child when they get an injury. In this situation, he was your the child, and you were his the mother; he understood now.

Knowing Laserbeak's existence was the reason why it was a little hard to turn a blind eye to those that were injured.

When Laserbeak returned, he gave the information to Soundwave, and that's when Soundwave knew that you were the one to complete the family.

When the both of you actually met face-to-face is when you texted him that an ex of yours came back is so persistent on getting back together and won't leave you alone. When it was night, your ex cornered you, and was ranting on and on about how you should be grateful that he's giving you a second chance, even though you were the one to break up with him, only to end up dead on the pavement. You looked up to see Soundwave himself.

The first thought that came to mind didn't revolve around fear. No! It was 'Oh, god, he looks hot-'

So, you were taken aboard the Nemesis, you became a part of the Con Crew. 1.) Because you're close, in a way, to one of the Autobot's human pets; 2.) You hated humans just as much as they did; 3.) It's Soundwave. Megatron trusts him with any decision of his. A reason Soundwave gave, in public? A human to spy on the Autobots- Shut the fuck up random Vehicon, this is a human spy, not Makeshift. This isn't like Starscream's plan.

This happened only a day after Optimus Prime became Orion Pax. Soundwave had a feeling that something might happen, so he had you wear something that will cover up everything, mainly your head/face. He knows the archivist is smart, and if he were to revert back to Optimus, then he would recognize who you are.

Often times, some Vehicons would make comments about a human joining the ranks, or try to get rid of you, and they were met with an electric end.

It was only about a week later, after Orion became Optimus again, when they decided how they were going to get you in their base, and with the help of the newly arrived Dreadwing, they can do just that.

Part 2 coming soon...

So, basically this was a yandere x willing reader. I just hope you're satisfied.

#yandere #soundwave x reader #transformers #transformers prime #soundwave #yandere x reader #laserbeak

[fouryearsofshades]

Hanfu movement is about MODERN ethnic clothing. What is the authentic “han” clothing? Who is going to decide for everyone? There are millions of Chinese around the world. Who could say something and everyone would follow? You? Me? The China government? Come on the moment China government said something it will be on the news that a totalitarian regime is mandating how people should dress.

Korean, Japan, Vietnam and England did not have such a tragic discontinuation of wearing their style when they all have their “modernization” period of pain. Also, have you considered the amount of Chinese involved in the situation? Also the geographical differences, the culture background and the resulted fashion preference of those people? Having only one (1) style of clothing actually is not the norm. Like the Dai people could have very different clothing depending on their villages. And the related Thai women in Thailand have at least... 7 different blouses? And those are modern invention too. Less than 100 years.

I live in a country where wearing traditional clothing, at least for women (pretty sure this is a relic from the colonialism period - men wore the European clothes while the women wore the ethnic clothes to show “fusion”, “respect” etc.), is very normal, even for work. For example, Indians. What is the traditional clothing of an Indian woman? A sari, you may say. But in my experience, most people don’t wear sari to work. I asked my teacher why. She said she did not like showing the waist. I only had one colleague who regularly wears Sari to work. But she is also a priest. Also I am quite sure that she only wears Sari when she is going to the temple on that day. What does the other wear usually?  Usually they wear a tunic plus a trousers. There are many many many different types of tunic and I did not follow them. Each type of tunic are most likely came from different region (so the bottom to match is actually slightly different, but again, I did not follow). I remember back in high school, once they showed about 20 different types of Indian clothing, each from different regions, or different kingdoms historically. And that was put together by one (1) schoolmate. I am sure there is much more variants in Indian traditional clothing.

In addition, clothing from each dynasty reflected their characteristics. And modern Chinese needs something that reflect them. So why stick to a dynasty when you have so many to chose from? Looking back at different periods of time was also what people did back in the days (Ming dynasty), but they did not have the technology nor the archeological discoveries that we can access nowadays. Also people from different regions have different needs. Certain styles would be more prominent in certain regions.  And those not suitable for people will fall into disuse.  Like, quju was rather popular a decade ago, but only a handful of people are into it now, because the construction of the clothing does not match modern needs.

So forming a modern Han clothing is still an ongoing process. It has only been, like, 20 years? It takes time to come to a conscious. Many people just started to wear hanfu recently. It takes time to build up their taste and wardrobe. Historically, it took a few decades for Ming dynasty to settle into their own style. Chill. People will come to a conclusion. Give them time. Give yourself time.

If one don’t want to sit it up one could always wear the cheongsam. Even then there are so many different cuts to choose from. XP   There is also non-cheongsam Chinese traditional clothing but people probably don’t recognize them and only really old grannies wear them nowadays. And most of them switched to buttons, at least in my region.

On the other hand, please consider cultivating your own social experience. And only hang out with friends or circles that decided on the style you also liked. I know there are people who are firmly focus on late late Ming style. There are also a lot of events and gatherings that are style-limited. YOU CAN MAKE YOUR OWN CALL. Don’t let the others decide for you. If you wear hanfu, you are one of the movement. Development your own circle if you like certain style. Consider becoming an influencer if you want people to follow your way. (Also, some people are only in for the money and know no shit about hanfu. So beware.)

Lastly, the online filter bubble is actually very strong if one picks the right people to follow. Like, a couple months ago I asked my friend what did she think about the fashion trend this year because I couldn’t see one. She said, definitely heziqun, especially for the newbies. For me, I have seen nearly zero news and updates on heziqun since Qinghuige time because I only followed a selection of people and bots on weibo. Since anyone wearing hanfu as daily wear for a few years knew heziqun is a recent invention (less than 3 years) as the whole structure is ridiculous and tedious to wear, so heziqun isn’t something those people would consider. Therefore I don’t see them on my dash. There were a couple of beidaiqun. Meh. Tang style is a wild place. Don’t go into Tang style if you want 100% historical accurate style. Or don’t even go into general hanfu fashion but only follow that handful of research and reconstruction blogs.

TLDR: There is no one that has the authenticity in Hanfu Movement to decide what specific style people should stick to. Make your own decision and hang out with people of like mind if you don’t want to see a variation of styles appearing in one place.

#hanfu #rants #long post #either be proactive or just go with the flow #like if you are the host you can decide the theme #otherwise you can't decide what the other guests would wear #well i am sure you can gossips with your friends #but you can't go up to a stranger and tell them they should wear not this but that

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining

I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~

Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one

TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out

🪽The King of Pining🪽

This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.

“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”

Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.

“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.

Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.

“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.

When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.

“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.

“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.

“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”

As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?

“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.

~night of the party~

You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…

A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.

Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.

Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.

From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.

With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.

“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.

“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”

Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.

Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.

“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”

Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.

The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.

Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.

“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“

You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.

Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.

Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.

With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.

“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.

“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x you #lucifer hazbin x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #lucifer x y/n

[eddiesxangel]

Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?

maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?

What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader

AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.

wc: 7.1k oops

Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!

Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.

"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.

Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.

"I go here?" You sass him back.

"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.

"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"

"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."

"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.

"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."

The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.

What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.

"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….

"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.

"I guess let's just go." you sigh.

You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.

Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.

You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.

''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.

In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.

"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.

"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.

"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"

"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."

"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.

"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.

You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.

"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.

"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"

"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.

You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.

"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.

"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.

"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.

"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.

You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.

"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.

And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.

You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.

Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.

You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.

You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…

"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.

Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.

"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.

“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.

“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.

That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.

"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.

You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.

"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.

"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."

"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.

"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.

"Ed, come on!'

Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.

"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.

Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.

What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.

But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.

Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.

Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.

Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.

You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.

He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.

You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.

Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!

What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.

Wrong.

Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.

There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.

You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.

“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.

The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.

“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.

As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.

“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.

“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.

As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.

“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.

“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"

"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.

Just Eddie. The words stung.

"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.

"Brothers best friend." You smile.

"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."

The fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.

"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.

"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.

"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.

"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"

"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.

You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"

"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."

"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.

As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.

Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.

"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."

"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.

"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.

"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.

"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.

"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."

"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."

"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.

"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.

"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"

"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"

"No way, you smoked too much tonight, so something? Maybe my stuff is off?"

"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."

"She's not new," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.

"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."

Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.

That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!

Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!

Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.

When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...

You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.

You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.

Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.

A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---

“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.

Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.

“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?

“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”

“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.

“Where were you supposed to be right now?”

“None of your business!”

“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”

“Screw you, Eddie!”

“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.

“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.

“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.

You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.

“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.

“Make me.” you shiver.

“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”

“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.

The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.

Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.

Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.

Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.

Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.

"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."

"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."

You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.

The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.

"Not a word," you warn.

Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.

"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."

"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."

"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."

"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."

You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?

“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”

You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”

So Adam was right…

“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.

Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.

“Sorry what?”

“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”

“Stay here.”

“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.

“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.

“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.

A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.

As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.

“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.

“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.

“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.

There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.

You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.

“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.

“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.

The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.

“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.

“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.

Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.

“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.

“Eddie.” You huffed.

“Tink,” he mocked back.

“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”

I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.

“You calling me old, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.

“No.” You snicker at his accusation.

“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.

“Well, I’m not letting up”

“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.

“Oh...”

“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.

“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.

Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?

“Mmm?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.

You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.

“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.

The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.

“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.

“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part.

“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.

“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.

“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.

“Yes Tink.”

Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?

“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.

“I think I might have an idea.”

“You-what?” Eyes still closed

You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.

You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.

“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.

You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”

A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.

Holy shit.

Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.

It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.

Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.

Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.

“Fucking hell, Tink”

“Eddie, please, I need you.”

“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.

“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”

Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.

Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.

“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.

Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.

“This okay?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.

“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.

He took in your naked frame in front of him.

Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.

Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.

It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.

“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.

“Do you like soft?”

“Very much so.”

Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.

How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.

“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.

“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.

“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”

You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.

You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.

He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.

“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.

“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.

As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.

“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.

“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.

“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."

“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.

His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.

You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.

“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.

“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.

Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.

Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.

“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.

“God, you’re so tight”

“Mmmphmm”

“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.

Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.

“Eddie, please.”

“I got you, Princess”

Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.

“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.

“Come’on baby, let me hear you”

“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”

“More, tell me who you belong to.”

“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”

“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.

“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.

“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.

“You close, baby?”

“Yes”

“Cum for me.”

“More, I need more.”

Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.

You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.

“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.

“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.

After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.

“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.

“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”

Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older brothers best friend x reader #request #TJ’s mailbox #jealous!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munons x angst #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x f!reader

[anyroads]

OK you know what, if we're gonna talk about Bake Off then fuck it, let's do this.

It used to be this wholesome, lovely show! We used to watch it for the bakers! And the learning! And the light banter and occasional bit of coy innuendo! What happened?

Channel 4 happened. When they bought the show they made a number of changes, most of them Not Good™️. Not just in the sense of them resulting in a lot of 😬 and 🫠 moments, but in the sense of how they changed the show's purpose, atmosphere, and brand.

Look, I know most people are just like, "whatever, it's just a baking show," and yeah, sure. But it's one of the UK's most successful TV exports, and where it once shifted the tone of reality competition to being wholesome and supportive of contestants, it's since moved towards creating tension at the contestants' cost. So aside from the fact that most people watching it signed up to watch a nice show, it has also shifted the goalposts of what that even means. And that, lovelies and gentlefolk, is some bullshit.

I decided to break my rant analysis into four main parts: theme weeks, the hosts, the judges, and the bakers. Let's get to it!

Theme Weeks:

If you watch Bake Off, you know the show's always had a specific theme for each week. The staples that come up in most seasons are:

cake

biscuit

bread

pudding/dessert

pastry

patisserie

Less common but consistent are things like caramel and chocolate week.

Then there are the fun episodes! When GBBO was on the BBC, this started out with things tea week, tarts, pies, tray bakes, basically little tangents still focused on emphasizing specific baking skills. In Series 6 (still on the BBC) they had their first nation-focused theme week with French week -- fairly innocuous given that a lot of patisserie is French, France and England share much more culture than either cares to admit [Norman Flag dot gif], and it was a nice change from watching Paul make the bakers do recipes that involved boiling things while talking about how wonderful boiled doughs are (are they, Paul? Are they?).

The show kept mixing it up with innocuous themes like advanced dough and alternative ingredients weeks, European cakes, Victorian week, batter week, and botanical week. And while it was frustrating to watch Paul Hollywood mispronounce things like the Hungarian Dobos Torta and lecture bakers on babka when he clearly knew nothing about it (or about Jewish baking in general, go off Past Me), the show's general attitude was that the judges had their own opinions, which were separate from the immutable facts around the chemistry of baking (more on this later) and shouldn't affect how bakers are judged.

After the show moved to Channel 4, the number of themed weeks increased and more of them focused on specific countries. In 6 seasons on the BBC, there were only two country-focused theme weeks, and in 5 seasons on Channel 4 there have been five. And while they've also had themes like vegan baking, roaring 20s, the 1980s, spice week, etc. the show has really started to go hard on exoticizing other cultures in outright disrespectful and racist ways. There's been Italian and Danish week, German, Japanese (it wasn't, it was East Asian week), and now Mexican week (which doesn't touch on interspersed Jewish bakes that didn't get a theme week, like versions of bagels and babka set as technical challenges that were borderline hate crimes and mansplained by a guy who has no idea how to make either and once wrote in a cookbook that challah was traditionally eaten during Passover). Each time the hosts played up the theme with racist bits and jokes that can be used as evidence in court if your case is "why should shows with scripted content have a professional writing staff."

Which touches on other issues the show has now...

The Hosts:

When GBBO was on the BBC, the show was hosted by ✨Mel Giedroyc✨ and ✨Sue Perkins✨. They encouraged the bakers! They'd hold stuff for them sometimes! They were interested in them! If a baker had a breakdown, they would start singing copyrighted material to render the footage unusable! When the show moved to Channel 4, they left, though I'm not unconvinced that Channel 4 offered them impossible to accept contracts to force them out so they could rebrand the show. They replaced them with Sandy Toksvig and Noel Fielding. Sandy was a lovely host in the vein of Mel and Sue, and she and Noel had a relatively sweet rapport, but she left a few seasons ago and was replaced by Matt Lucas.

Noel Fielding is mostly known for his quirky brand of comedy, a sort of British Zooey Deschanel who's goth from the neck up, an upperclass British gay divorcee from the neck down, and basically an early 60s Beatle re: trousers. Matt Lucas has almost definitely never watched a single episode of GBBO and his most redeeming quality is his thinly veiled contempt for Paul Hollywood.

The two treat the baking tent as their personal playground. Far from the supportive attitude of Mel and Sue, they tend to get in the bakers' way during the most stressful moments, especially when they try to do hilarious "comedy" bits (I can't not put that in quotes) like Noel's talking wooden spoon thing, or Matt talking over Noel to do time calls. During theme weeks like Japanese and Mexican week, they do culture-specific bits that are both racist ("just Juan joke" and "is Mexico a real place?") and unsurprising, given that both Matt and Noel did blackface on their respective sketch shows and absolutely could and should have known better because it was already the current fucking century.

All this to say, there's now a separation between the bakers and the hosts, as if they're on different shows. The hosts are doing their own thing and the bakers are doing GBBO. The show has gotten meaner to the bakers, and the hosts aren't there to support them anymore, they're just there to be comic relief. Because when you refocus your show on stressing the bakers the fuck out, you need a forced laugh I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The Judges:

First of all, a sincere congratulations to Paul Hollywood who managed to squeeze I jUsT cAmE bAcK fRoM mExIcO aNd YeT sTiLL pRoNoUnCe PiCo De GaLLo As 'PiKa De KaLLa' and I aM aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS wHiCh aRe MaDe WiTh DiGeStiVe BiScUiTs AcCoRdiNg tO mE, aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS, just two in a giant pile of astoundingly wrong hot takes, into a short enough time span that they all aired within Liz Truss's term as Prime Minister. A true man of accomplishments.

In the interest of fairness, I need to preface this with a disclaimer that, due to the fact that I've been watching Bake Off for most of its run, I'm biased. Specifically, I can't stand Paul Hollywood's smarmy, classist, egomaniac ass because he's proven time and again he's more interested in looking smart than actually knowing what he's talking about. Since the show moved to Channel 4, they've changed the occasional handshake Paul would give bakers to the HoLlYwOoD hAnDsHaKe™️. It's gone from being an emphasis of someone's skill to a goal, a reward, and one that emphasizes the judges' place above the bakers.

The judges used to function as teachers, imparting their skills and insights to the bakers. When the show was on the BBC, the voiceover leading to a judging would focus on the bakers' work being finished, saying how it will now be evaluated based on their skill and how well they met the brief. The voiceovers now, on Channel 4, focus on the judging (literally saying something along the lines of, "the bakers will now be judged by Prue and Paul"). There is a clear distinction Channel 4's producers have made, to mark that the show is now about whether or not the judges approve, not whether the brief was understood and executed well. On the BBC, it was irrelevant whether the judges liked a particular flavor, as long as the bake was well-made. Now, the bakers are expected to know the judges tastes and cater to them, which is frankly bullshit. A judge doesn't have to like a flavor to know whether or not it was executed well, ie. is it carrying a bake and was it meant to etc.

The judges have been turned into a brand. Cynically, Channel 4 knows that by building them up and focusing the show more on them, they can exploit their image more for profit. In the process, they've become much more biased and their own biases have come out as well. Most recently in the flaming dumpster fire that was Mexican Week, Paul Hollywood tried to intimidate a baker by telling them he had just gotten back from Mexico (which must have been a fruitful learning trip if he couldn't even learn how to pronounce pico de gallo correctly). Where do I even start with this? Here's an amateur baker from England (the show specifically casts middle and lower middle class bakers for the most part??) who likely can't afford trips to Mexico, who lives in a country with incredibly limited access to Mexican cuisine, who is expected not only to understand the cooking and baking traditions of a completely different culture but to do so well enough to play with it and do something creative with it. On top of which, one of the judges is now using his privilege of traveling halfway around the world as some kind of leverage, as if this were a bar that any amateur British baker could clear.

Prue, meanwhile, has openly asserted her biases against cultural flavors and textures, prioritizing her own personal preferences over them, as if they were in any way relevant to the skills and knowledge necessary to execute the tasks she sets to the bakers. She has also been consistently elitist, criticizing bakers for choices they made that were clearly informed by their experiences within income brackets that are too low and foreign for Prue to comprehend. She once had a go at a baker on a Christmas special because his Christmas dinner themed bake didn't have a turkey, even though it was clear from the stories he shared of his own Christmases that his family likely couldn't afford one. "It's not really Christmas dinner without a turkey," Prue said into the camera angrily while sitting on a chair made of live orphans and telling the ghost of Christmas Future to come back when he had another museum gift shop necklace for her to round out her collection.

The show is no longer about which baker has the best skills. It's become about which mortal can appease the gods of Mount Olympus, ie. the judges.

The Bakers:

Remember when the show was about them? Channel 4 doesn't! Because this is a reality competition show, the bakers are chosen both based on their skills, as well as cast-ability. They're cast as characters, distinct from each other, from different areas, age groups, ethnicities. All of them are amateurs. All of them are middle or lower middle class. They've ranged from college students to supermarket cashiers to prison wardens to scientists.

Something I noticed when the show moved to Channel 4 is that the baker who goes home in the first week is always wildly behind the rest in skills. I have no proof of this other than my eyeballs and deductive reasoning skills, but I think that Channel 4 deliberately casts a ringer each season who they think will be an easy send-off in the first week, just to get the audience's feet wet.

Anyway, like I said, this show used to be about the bakers - about them building skills and learning, and having walked into the tent with a self-taught foundation and understanding of the processes and chemical reactions involved in baking. When the show was on the BBC, the end of each round had some (often brief) moments of tension - will they finish in time? Will they get their bakes on the plate before time is up? Did they forget to add sugar to their batter and only remember at the last minute? In the end, they usually managed to finish and we'd all breathe a sigh of relief and think, yeah! You go, Bakers Who I'm Rooting For!

Now, on Channel 4, the end of round drama has been stretched to be so much longer that they've composed extra music for it. The bakers often seem out of their depth, whether because the instructions for the technical challenge are too vague (bake a lemon meringue pie??? As if anyone in the UK under the age of 60 has had one in the last decade???), or because they were expected to bake something that required a more than a basic foundation they weren't told of. Often it seems like they just aren't given enough time, a tactic used by reality competition shows to manipulate contestants into giving the cameras more dramatic content. On top of all this, the hosts get in their way, instead of helping them plate their bakes. As has been pointed out before, when everyone fails the challenge, the real failure lies with whoever set it.

In conclusion:

The show no longer exists to teach the bakers - and the audience - skills or knowledge. It now manipulates contestants for dramatic effect and prioritizes showing conflict over wholesome content. Channel 4 sees the bakers as social media content they can churn out season after season, and don't care about them because in a few months there'll be a new batch to exploit. Meanwhile, the judges are also out of their depth, co-opting recipes from other cultures and butchering them horrendously, while the camera gives them nothing but status as they hold bakers to the expectation that they learn how to make things very much the wrong way. If you saw any of the tweets about Mexican or Japanese week, or read my post on how Paul Hollywood isn't allowed to go near babka ever again, you'll understand.

So what would fix all this? Scrap the current judges and the hosts altogether. Bring back Mel and Sue, and replace the judges with expert bakers who have a love of their craft and want to share it with others. The draw of GBBO used to be its warmth and comfort - if Channel 4 isn't going to start its own version of Master Chef For Bakers, then it needs to stop trying to find a balance of how it can insert that vibe into GBBO. It can't. That's not a thing. Stop trying.

#GBBO #paul hollywood #prue leith #the great british bake off

[seokgyuu]

There is nothing worse than wanting what isn't yours. Sunghoon is your roommates boyfriend. He is also the one thing occupying your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. And never would you have guessed that the feeling is mutual.

Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader (minor Jake x Fem!Reader)

Contents: Cheating!! I don't condone cheating in real life, but decided to have this be the main theme of this story, work of fiction!! be warned!, jake plays a big part, calls reader pretty girl, roommate is named yeri but pls don't picture rv yeri thats my baby ok? SMUT! MDNI

Smut Warnings: making out, dirty talk, usage of the words "sweetheart, "baby", "princess", "good girl", fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends), creampie

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i know i said my first ever enha fic would be the heejayhoon fic but... here we are now. sunghoon has been on my mind too much and he needed to be let out, ok!! pls don't cheat on your partner ok, sunghoon is not doing things correctly here but oh well, what can we do. thanks for reading <3

It’s not fair, you think. How she gets to sit on his lap, how she gets to run her fingers through his hair. How right now his hands are on her hips and how he holds her so close to his body, his eyes following her every word. You wish you could tell him. How she has been seeing this other guy behind his back. Nothing physical, you think, but still. You wish you could go up and tell him she’s not being entirely faithful. But you can’t. It’s not fair. 

She says something and he laughs and you finally turn away to grab the drink Jungwon has poured you ages ago. He is too busy talking to a girl you don’t know to notice you haven’t even taken the cup. You bring it to your lips, letting all of its contents run down your throat in one go. Maybe getting drunk is the only way you’ll survive this stupid ass party you didn’t even want to host in the first place. 

“Slow down, pretty girl,” you suddenly hear a voice next to you and you almost choke. It’s Jake Sim, his best friend. 

“What?” You put the cup back down and look at him with one brow raised. Jake chuckles, pushing a hand through his soft looking black hair.

“There is enough alcohol for everyone, no need to drown it all in one go.”

“Maybe I want to.” You challenge him with your eyes and he takes the hint, smirking as he grabs the bottle of vodka that's standing on the counter. 

“I got you, pretty girl.”

Talking to Jake is fun. He is fun. He is also handsy. After five minutes of talking, he has his hand on your thigh, looking at you attentively as you tell him some story about you in middle school. You’re feeling hot all over, but it’s not because of Jake or his hand or the way he looks at you. It’s because of how he is looking over.

Park Sunghoon. Still with your horrible roommate on his lap, with his hands still on her waist, with her mouth so close to his ear you’re sure she’s saying the dirtiest things to him right now. But he is looking at you. 

“How do you know Yeri?” Jake asks then, bringing you back. 

“She’s my roommate,” you explain and take a sip from the drink Jake mixed for you earlier. His eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh! You are her roommate!” He grins, “I knew you looked familiar.”

“I did?” You wouldn’t have bet on Jake knowing who you are as much as you wouldn’t have bet on Sunghoon visibly being bothered by you talking to his best friend. 

“Yeah. Sunghoon mentioned you before. Showed me your insta.” You can’t hide the surprise on your face.

“He did?” Jake chuckles again, leaning forward, his mouth almost as close to your ear as Yeri’s to Sunghoon’s. 

“He mentioned you’re not that talkative. He also mentioned you like to look at him. And you know what I think? He enjoys it when you do.” 

You hate your treacherous heart for beginning to beat quicker. Why would Jake say that? Wasn’t he hitting on you? Mentioning what Sunghoon liked or didn’t like - wasn’t this… counterproductive? 

“Why- why would you tell me this?” You finally ask back, looking at Jake with wide eyes. 

“Because,” he begins to explain, his hand wandering further up your thigh, making you gasp, “because I know that he likes looking at you, too. And I never liked Yeri. You seem much nicer than her.”

His breath is still hitting your neck. His touch is soft and while it should probably feel more sensual, it doesn’t. You realize his plan, realize that he is doing this because he knows Sunghoon is watching and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“If you let me kiss you now, he will for sure come find you later.”

In retrospect - maybe it was a bit naive of you to just let him kiss you. Or well, for you to kiss him as a response. He could have played with you, could have used the knowledge that you wanted Sunghoon to his benefit. Something about him, though, made you feel like you could trust him.

Jake is a good kisser. He knows where to put his hands and how to suck on your tongue in a way that doesn't feel like too much. He knows how to turn his head and how to make you crave more, knows exactly how to make it look believable - so believable, Sunghoon can’t concentrate on Yeri on his lap anymore, on how she kisses his neck and whispers things into his ear he’d normally eat up, things he would normally be excited to hear. 

It’s not fair, he thinks. He’s not being fair. This has been going on for way too long. At this point he should just break up with Yeri as he had planned months ago. But he’s just a weak man and Yeri knows him too well. She’s not a good girlfriend and he’s not a good boyfriend, but never would he ever cheat on her. Or so he would like to think. Because right now? Looking at you on the other side of the room, your hands buried in Jake’s hair and his hand on your thigh, so far up it’s almost underneath your god forsaken skirt - he wants nothing more than to drag you into your bedroom and show you he’s better than Jake. 

The thought scares him enough to stop Yeri in her motion and excuse himself to go to the bathroom. 

“Wanna meet me in my room in five?” Yeri giggles in his ear when she’s off his lap and Sunghoon tightens his jaw. 

“I think you should entertain your guests a little more before you leave to your bedroom.”

Yeri pouts up at him when he gets up.

“But Hoonie…,” he knows her antics, he knows them well enough, probably better than anyone. What normally would have worked right away, doesn’t this time. He shakes his head and just walks off, making a pit-stop in the kitchen to get some more alcohol in his system to survive the night. 

-

Sunghoon knew it was bad, he was bad, when he walked into you in nothing but a short towel wrapped around your body two months ago. It had been totally out of his control - the way his body reacted to see you in your almost naked form, water dripping from your hair onto your shoulder, over your collarbone and down your chest. You suddenly became so much more than before. He had found you cute before. Cute and funny and nice. Never had he seen you as anything but his girlfriend’s roommate. You and Yeri weren’t even really friends, more like in need of each other. Yeri’s old roommate had moved in with her girlfriend and so the room became vacant. You were the first one to apply and stayed. This had been six months ago.

And now? Now Sunghoon feels more drawn to you than he had ever felt to Yeri and it drives him crazy. That is why he is drowning two shots of tequila in the kitchen with Jay and Jungwon and that is why he practically hides behind the door frame to watch you and Jake make out. He knows it’s not fair to be jealous. He also knows he probably shouldn’t watch the way Jake is kissing you, the way you are kissing Jake, because all it does is make his body burn. 

He finds himself wondering what you taste like. If you like the way Jake tastes. He’s pathetic. Pathetic and a horrible boyfriend. Sighing, he finally moves to the bathroom, glad to see there is only a small line he has to wait in. Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall, trying to forget the visual of you and Jake but failing miserably. Maybe he should have told Yeri to meet him in her bedroom after all. He could have taken his pathetic jealousy out on her. Just fuck her until he forgot. Imagine it was you instead. 

“Jesus, look at those two,” a voice rips Sunghoon out of his thoughts and he turns his head - immediately regretting his decision. 

It’s Jake and you and he has you pushed against the wall right next to the kitchen, kissing you hard and you kiss him back, hands on his nape and Sunghoon feels like the universe is out to get him tonight. Why the fuck would you follow him outside? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the living room, why-

He stands up straight again. 

You followed him outside. You are making sure he sees you. 

Sunghoon doesn’t have a coherent thought left in his brain. His legs carry him to you and Jake, squeezing through people he doesn’t know and then he is right there, his hand landing on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Heeseung is looking for you.” He says with a blank face and Jake parts from you, needing a few seconds to realize what’s going on. The moment he recognizes Sunghoon, he has to try really hard to suppress a smug smile.

“And that can’t wait? Kinda busy here, mate,” Jake raises his brows. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens once more.

“No. Said it was urgent. Better look for him.”

The apartment isn’t that big. There is a kitchen that’s separate from the living room that does house a good number of people. Jake has just seen Heeseung there. Talking to some red-head and most definitely not looking for him. Grinning after all, Jake nods and turns his head to wink at you quickly before finally taking off. 

“So,” Sunghoon starts, eyes traveling from the back of Jake’s head to you, “Jake, huh?” 

There is no chance in hell you can respond to him. In all honesty, you hadn’t really believed Jake’s plan would work out. Sunghoon getting jealous and stopping you from making out? When Yeri is right there? It seemed absurd. Apparently, though, it wasn’t. 

The surprise on your face is clear as day and Sunghoon scoffs, shaking his head.

“Is this how you want to get my attention, sweetheart? By making out with my best friend?”

Sweetheart. 

“I- I didn’t-,” it’s no use. Both of you know exactly why you had kissed Jake, why you had followed him into the hallway. 

“You didn’t, hm? Didn’t mean to kiss Jake? Didn’t kiss him just to make me jealous? Or what?” 

He’s so close to you now. Too close, if you think about it. What if someone sees you? Sees your roommate's boyfriend this close to you at her own party? 

“Sunghoon, I really don’t-,” you try again, but this time Sunghoon’s hands grab your waist as he pushes himself closer to you, your breath hatching in your throat.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. I can see it in your eyes. Fuck, I can see it in your eyes everytime I’m around. You want me, just admit it.”

Your skin is burning where he is touching you. His eyes are staring into yours and you wish with all of your being he wasn’t who he was. 

“I can’t. I- I don’t want you, Sunghoon, you’re not mine to want.”

Your words reach his ears but they don’t make sense even though they should. Looking around, Sunghoon grabs your wrist and drags you to your bedroom, holding out his hand.

“Keys, I know you locked it.”

You stare up at him, lips trembling, knowing better than to give in. 

“Sunghoon-,”

“Give me the keys, Y/N.”

The way he says your name has your knees growing weak. Swallowing, you let your hand slip into the pocket of your sweater, handing the waiting man what he had asked for. 

Without a word Sunghoon unlocks and opens the door, pulling you inside behind him, hoping to god no one paid you any mind. Once the door behind you shuts, you feel your back hit it, feel Sunghoon’s breath on your face, his hands back on your hips, the look in his eyes wild and angry and so full of want it almost causes you to whimper. 

“Do you want me to be yours to want?” He asks with a raspy voice and his fingers dig into your flesh. 

“Does it matter?” You reply quietly. 

“If it didn’t I wouldn’t ask you, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.” You immediately say, your thighs pressing together traitorously. Sunghoon catches your movement and he lets out a breath.

“Why? You like it?” 

He is so close to you. So fucking close. You could count every single mole and freckle on his face if only you had the strength to look at him for longer than two seconds.

“Sunghoon, please. Y-You’re Yeri’s boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t stop you from staring at me whenever I’m here, does it?” It’s wrong. He knows it and so do you, but it just feels too good. His hand moves from your waist down, sliding in between your thighs to part them. You gasp, eyes widening when you feel his fingers trailing up your thigh.

“I- I am not- I would never, Sunghoon!” 

It’s a light touch, but it’s right there on that one sensitive spot on your inner thigh. Sunghoon bathes in the way you look, the way your breath hitches when he touches you.

“Yeah? What was that, baby?”

“‘Am not staring at you!” You try to shoot daggers at him through your eyes, but all that reaches him are silent pleas to touch you more. 

“Is that right?” Sunghoon leans forward, his free hand now cupping your cheek, thumb softly caressing your face.

“Not staring at me, hm? Not wishing it was you on my lap instead of Yeri, no?”

“No! Of course not, I-,” you gasp again when he moves his hand further up.

“Stop lying to me, baby. Please, I need you to be honest, need you to tell me how much you want me.”

His voice is deep and his begging almost brings you to your knees. While the rational part of you tells you to push him away, the irrational part tells you to stay right where you are.

“I- what about Yeri, Sunghoon?” Your hands find place on his chest and he bites down on his lip, softly shaking his head.

“I’ll break up with her. I promise, princess. I just need you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind, please?”

I’ll break up with her, the words echo in your head over and over. You should think about this more, you know you should. And yet… 

“You- You are, Hoon, you are always on my mind.”

“Fuck, princess, tell me more. What am I doing in your mind?” His nose touches yours and the hand that was on your cheek moves down to your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

“Doing everything you do to her… to me.”

“Keep going.” His instructions are clear, but with the way his hand has now reached your throbbing core, with how his fingers glide over your soaked panties, feeling just how fucking wet you are for him, you don’t even know how to say your own name. 

“You kiss me, not her. You… touch me, not her.” The words stumble out of your mouth and Sunghoon breathes them in, his cock hard against his jeans as he lets his fingers push your panties to the side, feeling your warm and soft folds right then against his skin. He groans, head falling onto your shoulder.

“Shit, you’re so wet, baby, fuck.”

You whimper when he finds your clit with his thumb and you would have landed on the floor, if his arm hadn’t wrapped around you just then.

“Sunghoon…,” you breathe out, but he just shakes his head, kissing the side of your neck.

“Am I touching you like this in your mind, baby? Am I making you this wet?”

As if to accompany his words, he pushes one finger into you and you cry out, hands fisting the material of his shirt. 

“G-god, yes, just- just like this, Hoon.”

He’s dizzy, you are making him dizzy. Your smell and the way you feel around his finger, your voice dripping in pure lust, it’s about to drive him fucking insane.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles before finally kissing you, his lips devouring you like starved man, a moan escaping and landing in your mouth. Every bit of composure that might have been there a second ago is now gone. Your arms wrap around his neck as he continues pushing his finger in and out of you, your small whimpers getting caught by his busy lips. 

Sunghoon thinks you’re like a drug. Now that he’s got a taste, he can’t stop, he can’t get enough. He licks into your mouth to taste more of you, pushes another finger into your sopping pussy to prep you for his cock that is aching behind his pants. There isn’t much time, he knows someone will notice if he’s gone too long. 

“Been dreaming of this, Hoon, need you so, so bad.”

Your whispered words are like a prayer to Sunghoon. He moans against your lips and wraps both of his arms around you now, your cunt feeling so empty without him all of a sudden. You cry out when he puts you down on your bed and kisses you again, his hands busy getting your panties off your body, leaving your pussy bare for him to dive back into with his fingers. 

He kisses you again, his tongue circling around yours, his lips hot and red and perfect against your own. Nimble fingers slip underneath his shirt, caressing his soft skin as your hips move against him, his fingers even deeper inside of you at this angle. You whine into his mouth and Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip.

“Gotta have you, baby, gotta fuck you, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” 

He rids himself of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down enough for his cock to spring free, his eyes taking in your body, your face, the way you look wanting him. How many nights had he wished it was you underneath him? Cursing under his breath, he pushes you further up the bed, your head landing on the pillow behind you, gaze wide as you watch him lean forward, his soft brown hair falling into his face. He doesn’t waste any time, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with you, easily slipping into your wet heat. 

“Kiss me.” You whisper and Sunghoon’s eyes fly open, sinking into your further as he leans forward, his lips catching yours in a sensual kiss. Your legs almost automatically wrap around his waist, helping him to completely sink into you. Moans are exchanged between the two of you and your fingers grab Sunghoon’s hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss his neck. He hisses, hips beginning to thrust into you, your tongue lapping at his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect around me, sweetheart. Never had a pussy better than this.”

He grabs your hand and pins it over your head, eyes wild as he stares down at you, his hips beginning to move mercilessly, cock hitting you right where you need him to. It takes everything in you not to scream for him, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. 

“Hoon, am already close,” you admit with your face hot and Sunghoon moans once again, letting his head fall down, back between your shoulder and neck, kissing your skin.

“Yes, baby, want you to cum on my cock.”

It’s true. He doesn’t think he has ever wanted something as much as this. His words are like a spell, your pussy clenching over and over again as your orgasm erupts you, making you cry out in pleasure, your hands flying to the his back, hips moving rapidly against him, basically fucking yourself on his cock through your orgasm and Sunghoon feels like he is about to pass out. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me, fuck.”

He kisses you again, lust and want mixed with desperation as he continues to chase his high, twitching inside of you, your walls tight and warm around his hard cock. If he could, he would fuck you for another six hours, but he knows tonight is not the night for that. Fuck, he’s gonna need to get you a new apartment, he needs to get you as far away from Yeri as he possibly can. 

“Want you to cum in me, Sunghoon, please, make me yours, fill me up, please.”

Black and white dots appear in front of his eyes when you whisper these words in his ear and he can’t do anything but have your wish be his command. He curses your name once, twice - then he cums, thick stripes of white filling your awaiting pussy, the feeling of being filled by him getting you over the edge a second time. You can’t help the loud moan this time, can’t help clawing your fingers into his skin underneath his shirt. He rides out his orgasm and your legs fall off his waist, overstimulation hitting you and making you whine, Hoon kissing your neck and your cheek and finally your lips as he pulls out, quick to part from you again to look at how pretty your pussy looks filled with his release. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I could look at this forever,” he mumbles, sinking down to push two fingers inside you, stuffing his cum back in. You gasp in surprise.

“Park Sunghoon!” 

He laughs, looking up at you with his bangs hanging in his face.

“Need to make sure it stays where it belongs, princess.”

Sunghoon breaks up with Yeri the next day. He takes you apartment hunting an hour later. Safe to say Jake’s plan worked out. And he won’t ever let you hear the end of it. 

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enha fanfiction #enha smut #sunghoon fanfiction #ksmutsociety #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #sunghoon au #sunghoon imagine #enhypen au #enhypen imagine #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #22

✦

Bring on the Night

What if Danny's white hair and green eyes showed up under blacklight? No nightclubs for him... of course, knowing him, he'd definitely still go.

Imagine someone from the DC universe gaining a crush on the mysterious alt looking dude but he's impossible to find outside of nightlife parties.

To make it more interesting, what if the nightclub he frequents is actually owned by him? Even more interesting if the nightclub is used as a sort of no man's land where ghosts and humans knowingly/unknowingly peacefully mingle with each other? Some of the more ghostly individuals are also Danny's employees and humans just see them as enthusiastically trying to fit the theme of the club. What exactly is that theme? You decide.

I feel like Danny would just make a really good host and it would easily fit in with his obsession to protect. Like a side project/hussle, but for ghostly core health.

Also think of it as kinda like vacation time for his rogues from trying to throttle him. They get a nice, safe space to freely feed into their individual obsessions without wrecking anything/anyone.

✦

List of roles are in the tags but can changed around however anyone pleases. Just thought this would be a fun idea for anyone to pick up and run with.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny owns a nightclub cause why not #he hosts both humans and ghosts #ember's band frequently plays there #skulker could be the part-time bouncer #he keeps watch for creeps and other less than legal activities #technus controls the lights and sound systems #dark danny is the bar tender #box ghost keeps track of non-human friendly inventory #tucker is in charge of human friendly inventory #he's also co-manager with sam #danny phantom crossover #dp crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #writing prompt #prompt

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter 𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂: 𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝘼 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝘼𝙇!!

In celebration of reaching 3,000 followers on Tumblr, it seems ayyypee has decided to host her very first collab!!! The theme is Celebrity Scandal!

What are your favorite celebrity anime men, women or you (the reader) up to these days? New relationships? Maybe a nasty breakup or divorce. Cheating? Leaks, Murder, Cover ups?! There's so much to report on and so little time. But rest assured, The Jujutsu Journal will find out. Someone is always watching.

Status: OPEN

𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨

✩˚｡⋆ This is an 18+ collab! Minors dni

✩˚｡⋆ All characters portrayed must be 18+ (No aging up of minor characters pls, but if there is a canon timeskip, that's fine. Just write them as their adult selves.)

✩˚｡⋆ It does not have to be only an x Reader pairing!

✩˚｡⋆ Open to ANY fandom (Even though it says Jujutsu Journal lol)

✩˚｡⋆ You can join with as many fandoms and as many characters as you wish

✩˚｡⋆ Both NSFW and SFW works are allowed!

✩˚｡⋆ If you use any topics that need a warning, please use warnings and tag appropriately!

✩˚｡⋆ That being said, dark content is fine as long as it is not any of the following: Non-con, r*pe, beastiality, incest/stepcest, pedophilia

✩˚｡⋆ No particular format or word length required. And you can even do art! Just let me know what you’ll be doing!

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍

✩˚｡⋆ To join, please send me an ask, or you can dm me! Also I'm nosy so let me know what your idea(s) are! Like Stalker!Paparazzi Sukuna x Reader LMAO)

✩˚｡⋆ The deadline for submission for the collab is June 30th

✩˚｡⋆ I would also REALLY appreciate it if people reblogged this post so that it's boosted!

✩˚｡⋆ Please tag me in your works and use the tag: #JujutsuJournal after you're done. I'll add it to my Masterlist and reblog it on my account! I know the tagging system is bonkers right now though, so if tagging doesn't work, you can just send me an ask.

✩˚｡⋆ If you have any other questions, just let me know!

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙂𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘿𝙪𝙩𝙮:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

@ayyy-pee - model!shokoieiri x model!ioriutahime x videographer!reader

@tojiscumdumpster - stalker!model!naoya x journalist!blackreader

@bungalowbear - stuntman!toji x actress!reader

@lost-immortality - DELICIOUS FANART (Characters updated later)

@lemonlover1110 - toji x reader, sukuna x reader

@xo2dee - actress!yuki x actress!reader

@yasu-1234 - tailor!higuruma x movie star!reader

@fizee: ✩ Non Disclosure Agreement - ceo!naoya x femdom!reader

@mysteria157 - celebrity chef!reader x food critic!nanami

@toasted-ry3bread - nanami x actress!reader

@pattycakes5516 - probasketballplayer!suguru x criticalsportsanalyst!reader

@kentocalls - manager!geto x idol!reader, farmer!satoru gojo x actress!reader

@violetsaffron5 - nepo-babystalker!gojo x reader

@hyperfixationsporfavor - actor!sugurugeto x director!reader

@brujawrites - nepobaby!gojo x interviewpersonality!reader

@storiesoflilies - guitarist!toji x singer!reader

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#JujutsuJournal #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #anime smut #fanfic collab #anime x reader #naoya x black reader #naoya zenin x black reader #jjk x black reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #yuki x reader #yuki tsukumo x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #shoko x reader #shoko ieiri x reader #utahime x reader

[makncheese12]

Locked up

Request: Can I have uuuhhhh…. A45 - person A being a small ball of aggression while person B is a big teddy bear with Tara Carpenter as Person A (maybe not agressive but how Tara is, maybe a bit grumpy and moody) and Reader as person B? And also maybe that R is Flustered around Tara ◡̈

Warning: suggestive themes, Tara being kinky, bad words and that’s it I think?

A/N: I just figured something out and I love doing it sm.

Part 2?

Tara Carpenter x G!p!reader

A fight between Tara and Sam is always hell, both trying to always be right which made it all go in a constant circle. You were usually the main cause of them and because of that they seemed to be getting more and more frequent as Tara healed over time after Woodsboro. The aftermath was always you having to listen to Tara rant in your own apartment not too far from their shared one.

And every time you took it upon yourself to tell Sam she was with you knowing the older carpenter was probably freaking out each second Tara was gone. She tried to hate you for it — how you would rage along whenever she would sneak off to parties or sneak into their apartment or sneak Tara out — but it was no use, you were too sweet and always protected Tara so she settled for subtle glares and small comments whenever you were near.

The relationship itself confused Sam and many others around you. While you were quiet and reserved, Tara was out going and wanted to be out there. Which made her wonder why you just followed her where ever she decided to go.

Let’s not forget the size difference. How could she?When she first met you at the hospital she had to admit, she was both surprised and intimidated but you seemed to be far more intimidated by the older sister. Your personality was completely different from your looks which made everything far more confusing to the girl.

How can someone so big be so soft for her grumpy short sister? She had no clue.

But here you say on the couch at a random costume party hosted by some chick you’ve never met with a red solo cup full something you didn’t dare ask when Chad gave it to you in your black tank top and orange cargo pants dressed as a prisoner, per Tara’s request to match her. It was Tara’s way of rebelling against her sister and to prove that she was her own woman.

Music blaring loudly, the entire house dark with flashing lights, and people moved and danced closely. Something you weren’t fond of but still went along with the group because Tara seemed so excited about it.

In the dark room you catch sight of Chad in his zombie football player costume, a classic and boring one but then again it was last second. And not too far behind him was Ethan in his… Yoshi costume… the large hat stuck out and you began to realize why he didn’t have a girlfriend, he made up for it with his awkward charm though.

You had a few shots with the two and allowed Chad to make you a drink mixed with different things you dare not drink out of before slipping away onto the empty couch.

That left Mindy, Anika and Tara who were most likely somewhere playing a game having something to do with alcohol.

Suddenly, a girl in a Mario costume takes a seat next to you. At least she could have made it look cute, it was just a red t-shirt with an ‘M’ on it and black shorts.

Another group stood nearby watching and giggling. You notice another girl who wore the same thing but as Luigi. Oh great.

A few beats of silence goes by before she speaks. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asks with a smile before leaning in and as soon as she does your nose is filled with her excessive amount of body spray. Not even the good kind.

“Uh,” you start before looking through out the dark room to see if you can find any of your friends but not even Ethan’s Yoshi hat was in sight. “No, I don’t think so?” You say, slightly scooting away from the girl and sipping your drink, face scrunching up after taking your first sip not knowing how strong it really was.

Another best of silence, the music sending vibrations through your body. “Oh, I know!” She yells and you flinch slightly, not sure how she managed to make her voice louder than the music that shook the house but she did.

“You’re that cute tall girl in my astronomy class!” She says and your eyes snap to the side giving her a side eye glare. You didn’t recognize her from the class but then again you didn’t exactly pay attention to the people, not trusting anyone enough to make new friends.

Now you see what Sam meant when she called you ‘anti-social Godzilla’ the other night when Tara made you stay the night with her.

“You, like, sit in the back of the class.” She says excitedly and scoots a little closer. Too close for comfort, your face scrunches up slightly from the mass amount of perfume wafted into your face as she gets closer, saying something you could no longer hear as the music suddenly got louder and the DJ spoke into his mic.

“Huh?” You call out as her mouth continued to move but nothing really comes out or rather you don’t hear anything. This seems to make her move closer, a bad choice in the eyes of the brunette who watched not too far away.

Anger couldn’t describe what she was feeling as she watched the girl lean closer toward you. She would never admit to being jealous out loud but here she was, watching your face scrunch up as you tilt your head at the girl.

It wasn’t often she felt this way, not at all. Even before you started dating you didn’t show any interest in anyone else but her and that’s exactly how she got you to ask her out so she didn’t have to. And even now she trusted you never to betray her trust but that didn’t stop others from pursuing you anyway.

And that made her blood boil. How could they not know your taken with the necklace that had her initials on it? Or the fact that you had faint hickeys on your neck left by her? Maybe they just took advantage of the fact that you were a push over or they were just dumb.

That’s what this blonde bitch must have been. Straight up dumb.

She had seen her staring at you on campus and made it her mission to show that you were together by being all over you. Holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you, sitting in your lap, all of it. But apparently that just wasn’t enough.

“I think we should jump her.” Mindy says out of no where, face close to Tara’s to see what she was looking at. She was slightly crouched down and looked stupid doing so in her miles morales spider man suit as it bunched up in different places.

“Me too.” Tara huffs out as she crosses her arms, a small smirk appears on her faces as you pull away as the girl gets closer.

“Or you could just intervene without getting physical by pulling Y/N away.” Anika interjects in her spider Gwen outfit as she takes a shot.

“I like Mindy’s idea better.” Tara says, narrowing her eyes as the girl gets closer once again. “I’ll start by pushing her down and we can start kicking, Anika can record.” Mindy gums out as she stands up straight.

Tara definitely liked the idea, and even more so when the girl placed her hand on your arm.

“Don’t instigate, you’ll make her want to lock up Y/N for the night.” Anika hits Mindys chest as she gets closer, holding another shot before gesturing to Tara’s police costume.

Tara’s eyes light up at the idea and suddenly she was glad she went full cop mode with her costume. Taser and pepper spray that Sam forced her to carry around on her hips along with a radio, fake gun or rather it’s holster, and a pair of hand cuffs.

Oh, she definitely liked that idea and Anika smirked at the face Tara made when she suggested the idea.

Tara quickly took the handcuffs out of her belt loop and cuffed one of her wrist before making a beeline for you and just in time for the girl to get even closer. This fueled her speed of getting to you.

“Shoot me a thumbs up if you change your mind and want to go with plan A!” She heard Mindy’s voice faintly as the music blared in her ears.

As soon as she was close enough she hooked the other half of the hand cuffs onto the wrist the was holding your drink and locked it in, she then let go and stood up proud of herself as she glanced at you.

A confused look was spread across your face as you stared down at the hand cuffs connecting the two of you before looking up to her.

She couldn’t help but smile as a dark shade spread across your cheeks as you stared up at her, eyes wide and confused.

Her eyes snap to the girl before narrow at the annoyed look on her face. Why was she annoyed for flirting with her girlfriend. Tara felt the growing need to look back to Mindy and give her that thumbs up.

“Oops,” she says, voice sharp as she glares at the girl. “I slipped.” She sarcastically through gritted teeth as the girl rolls her eyes.

Who did this chick think she was? She couldn’t have thought you would even think about her with that basic ass costume and paint for make up.

“Don’t you have a key or something?” The girl says back, voice full of annoyance. She knew what she was doing and that was enough to make Tara want to be ghostface herself.

“I left them at home.” Tara replies before yanking your hand up to pull you up but it only caused you to drop the drink onto the floor.

“I’m thirsty and you’re all out.” She says her eyes snapping back to you as your eyes focus on the red seeping into the carpet on the floor. “Let’s go get a drink.”

You quickly got the memo when Tara pulled again but less harshly before standing up.

She smiles slightly up at you before sending the girl one last glare before slipping her bandaged and cuffed hand into yours and pulling you away.

“You slipped, huh?” You ask in a teasing tone as Tara pushes through the crowd with a huff. You apologize to the people who look back at her with a glare and move past them without bumping into them as Tara continued to shove her way through with slight resistance but she got through eventually with enough force.

“I am quite clumsy.” She replies as you near Mindy and Anika who have started a game of cup pong with two boys.

“Y/N! Great to see we didn’t have to jump a few girls to save your socially awkward ass.” Mindy replies before looking down to you and Tara’s cuffed hands.

“I didn’t take you for the kinky kind of couple.” Mindy says wiggling her eye brows before laughing when Anika hits her chest.

Tara’s eyes lightly up for a moment before quickly hiding it and smiling. Another idea for later.

Another wave of heat fills your face as you look down at Tara. Her police her was too large for her and was tilting slightly as she smirked not bothering to fix it. You would have thought it was adorable but at the moment you were a little embarrassed. “Did you actually leave the keys at home or we’re you joking?” You lean down and whisper into her as the music continues to blare, the action made her shiver lightly as her ears tinted with a pink hue.

“Oh, I have them.” She says casually as she picks up her drink she had before rushing off to get you. “But I’m not unlocking the cuffs until we get home.” She says as she holds up a red solo cup to her lips as leans into your front as she watches the game of cup pong.

You sigh out before smiling at her sudden possessiveness. It was often you got to see it but every time it always made you feel special that she wanted you all to herself.

You chuckle lightly before wrapping your arm around her and watching the game yourself as you rub her skin and bandage soothingly to help calm the girl down.

————

“Wait, just slow dow-“ you start as Tara pulls your wrist harshly as she climbs up her fire escape as quietly as possible before letting out a hiss as the cuffs pinch you lightly.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry..” she says as she lowers her wrist so you no longer felt the force of being pulled up. She had insisted on keeping the cuffs on and you were beginning to wonder if she actually had the keys.

You had been pulled around all night so your wrist weren’t exactly fond of the smaller girl, especially when she made you fall a few times through out the night and pull herself down with you.

“Why didn’t you just take them off before we started crawling up?” You whisper yell as she continues her way up, her back side pressed up against your front now and you can’t help the blush the forms as her ass presses up against your pelvis area.

“I wasn’t thinking!” She whisper yells back as you both make it up to her window. “Plus, it’s cute when you blush like that.” She giggles as your face grows redder before pulling you into her room.

The lights were off in the hall around the apartment as you slipped in and nothing seemed disturbed other than the fact that you and Tara would have a hangover in the morning but you could cover that up easily.

You sigh out as you take a seat on the bed and Tara fumbles into her pocket before pulling out the keys and unlocking the cuffs with a small frown.

You rub your wrist as you watch her make her way toward her closet, peeling off clothes as she did so.

You smile lightly as you watch her pull down one of the hoodies you gave her and pull it over her head before pulling down your cargo pants and letting them hit the floor.

She quickly makes her way back to you as you scoot up the bed before straddling your waist and burying her face into your neck and letting out a soft but long sigh. You chuckle lightly as you wrap your arms around her

She felt exhausted after pulling you around most of the night, keeping you close as you danced and drank the night away. But now she was regretting it slightly as her wrist aches and her body relaxed into you as you scratched her back.

She let out another sigh before her mind wandered back to the girl who had the audacity to try her shot with you. She slowly felt the jealousy creeping back up into her and her exhaustion left as she bit you lightly.

Your body jolts slightly as her teeth connect to your skin and she can’t help but smirk as she feels something move on your lower abdomen.

“Tara…” you say in a warning tone as she eyes the hand cuffs on her bed side table. “It’s late and everyone’s asleep, so we should be too.” You sigh out as your grip tightens on the smaller girl, blush creeping into your face as you feel your own erection push against your boxers and onto her.

To this day you are astonished by this small girls strength and speed as she pulls out of your grasp and grabs something off the table. You let out another before a loud clinking catches your attention as she slides up from your waist to straddle your stomach.

Your eyes snap to her hands as she grabs your wrist and pushes them against her bed frame, slipping one cuff on and sliding it behind the railing and slips it onto your other.

You stare up, shocked by the sudden movements and their results. You yank lightly onto the cuffs and the bed frame moves, hitting the wall gently making a small noise.

Tara quickly grabs your hands and holds them still, a glare on her face as she looks down at you.

“T-tara..” you sputter out as blush once again forms across your cheeks.

“Shh,” she says leaning down, hands still on yours as her lips graze yours. “Wouldn’t want to make too much noise, now would we?” She says teasingly as a smile stretches across her face as her lust filled eyes look down into your worried ones.

“What if we get caught?” You ask, eyes locking onto the door where same could walk in any moment and catch you in such a state.

She presses her lips against yours harshly, one hand moving the your jaw as the other stays on your bound hands. Your lips move in sync as the kiss deepens further, her body pressed against yours and she slowly feels your cock harden as she does so and she can’t help but smirk lightly at how easy it was to get you going. She hadn’t even touched you and yet here you were, ready for her to start.

But there was no doubt in her mind that she was still going to touch and tease you first before starting.

The thoughts of Sam walking In immediately leave as you let out a small whine and pull against you restraints, desperate to touch the girl above you. Tara’s hand tighten on yours and her teeth nip your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly from the sudden intrusion and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Oh, this was going to be fun. Will it cause yet another fight between her and her sister? Yes. Does she really care at the moment? Absolutely not.

She’ll just use this as another excuse to rebel against the older Carpenter.

#tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream franchise #Mindy Meeks #anika kayoko #stab movies #sam carpenter #tara carpenter

[runningfrom2am]

the wedding // LTPF

summary: the wedding of the year, i can see it now.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. she's a bridezilla for REAL and i wish i included more of that energy, protective!coryo, idk people are drinking alcohol? (its a wedding, so duh), also TW for Livia and r's dad just existing p much.

based on this ask and this ask!

series masterlist // playlist

Everything was perfect. Absolutely everything you had dreamt of your whole life when it came to your wedding. Coryo had told you money was no object, and therefore, you spared no expense. You had a strong theory that your father was being sent every last bill, since you knew neither of you had anything more than what the Plinth's were providing for school, but that was the farthest thing from your problem. It was the least your father could do.

The hardest part of the whole thing, even before deciding who would give you away without your father, was deciding on your maid of honour. You didn't have many good friends, or friends at all, outside of your new husband. At one point, you wondered if had things gone differently, would you have chosen Lucy Gray?

Clemensia Dovecote was a fine enough choice. "Let me just say," Her speech began, hitting the side of her overfilled wine glass with a fork. "I have called this wedding for years, and no one believed me." She shot a smile over to you at the head table. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Clemensia. Y/N's Maid of Honour." She had just thrived on the title since you offered it to her which, while annoying, was good because she took her position very seriously. She was the perfect choice- she looked nice, presentable in a dress you had picked out, but the colour clashed with the yellow in the whites of her eyes and the few scales that were yet to fall off after the snake bite. She looked fine, but she also made you look better. "But like I said, I knew this would happen."

She was drunk, repeating things in a way that made you cringe internally but nevertheless, you had to watch. The lights spread across the large backyard of the Plinth's mansion lit up the night beautifully, bouncing off every white and red rose you had spread about. You were very grateful to them for allowing you to host the reception there. They had done a lot for you in the last year since you returned from Twelve.

Mrs. Plinth was very involved with planning the wedding- she loved the winter wedding and leaning into it as a theme. It worked out nicely because it gave her something to think about other than the death of her only child, and she was a tremendous help and support to you. You were truly grateful, but this day was hard on them without Sejanus there. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that Sejanus would have been the best man, and you only slightly doubted that. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else- but Coryo would have had different thoughts, you're sure.

"How much longer will this go on for?" Your now husband whispers in your ear, fake smile on his face as he also has to listen to Clem's rambling.

"I really don't know." You reply with the same fake smile, knowing that eyes were on you just as much as her.

"Some choice for a maid of honour." He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. "Oh, well, I would have gone with Arachne Crane but, you know..."

"Fair enough." He mumbles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you really the only woman in the Capitol who isn't insufferably annoying? You should have been your own maid of honour."

"Well it was her or Tigris, and Tigris is prettier than me so she wasn't really an option." You hum, grabbing his hand under the table as you keep your eyes focussed on Clemensia, not paying attention to a word she says.

Coryo laughs. "Tigris is not prettier than you."

"She's your cousin, your opinion is invalid." You shrug it off.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." He argues, squeezing your hand.

You don't reply, and you let his hand go to clap once Clem is finally finished. You had already eaten, so now it was supposed to be the "fun part", as Clemensia so aptly put it in her speech. You found it rude, yes, but it wasn't a big deal and after tonight you wouldn't have to see her again for a while.

It was brisk out, being a winter wedding you should have expected that, but you still had another dress to change into so you excuse yourself from the table, kissing your husband goodbye as he gets up as well.

You hadn't allowed him to see any of your dresses, and this would be your third one today alone. He loved every one, and did not expect to be disappointed by the next. Or the one after that.

"Hey, congrats, Coriolanus." He tears his gaze away from your retreating figure to whoever was talking to him.

"Thank you, Hilarius." He nods, smiling politely at him and reaching out to shake his hand.

"I saw this one coming miles away." His classmate laughs. "You remember that though, right?"

"When you said that if I wasn't going to go after her you would?" Coryo asks, eyebrow raised. "I do remember that. It makes me wonder who let you in..." It's meant as a joke as he makes a point of looking past him toward the security they have at the entrance.

He furrows his brow when his eyes catch on your father standing there, arguing with one of the security guards, his wife by his side.

"If you would excuse me..." He says, walking toward them before Hilarius could even respond.

"Ugh, I know. Why did you even invite her, Y/N/N?" Clemensia complains as Tigris helps you step out of your gown.

"Who?" You ask, unsure what she was even talking about.

"Livia." She states, yet another glass of red wine in her hand.

"Oh, I kind of had to. Connections and all that." You shrug. You weren't Livia's biggest fan, she had a "greater than thou" attitude that drove you up the wall, but who in this city didn't?

"Ah, yes. Of course." She hums. "She had a lot of audacity to show up in that dress though..."

Your head whips around to look at her. "What dress?"

"You haven't seen her?" She gasps. "I thought you saw her! It's this white-based floral, really questionable for someone else's wedding. Looks like a tablecloth." She accentuates the statement with a sip from her glass.

Your jaw ticks and you look toward the door, already seeing red.

"Hey, Y/N, it's okay." Tigris rests her hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at her. "We'll tell security, they can escort her out if that's what you want."

You take a breath, forcing a smile on your face. "Let's not bother them. I'll just go chat with her." You smile, stepping out of the dress in bare feet, quickly grabbing Clemensia's overfilled wine glass from her hand on your way out the door.

"Y/N, Wait! Don't!" Tigris calls after you, well aware of your notorious temper by now, but you don't listen.

You're in your white slip when you storm back out to the reception area through the back patio, immediately and quickly scanning the crowd for the guest in question. You know you have seconds before Tigris likely tries to stop you, but you know Clemensia won't. Then, you see her.

You're seething already. That's practically a wedding dress on its own. You would kill her.

You stomp across the ground, tunnel vision locked on her as she raises her glass to her lips, laughing, and talking with other guests, completely careless to what she had done wrong. Well, she would learn today.

"Livia Cardew!" You grin, walking up to her. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, but here you are!"

Immediately, she's taking in your appearance, giggling at your lack of appropriate attire and shoes. "Y/N! Congratulations." She says, eyes finally locking with yours again.

"May I have a word?" You ask, already grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

"Is there a problem here?" Coriolanus asks, addressing only his security as your father stands there, red-faced with anger.

"Yeah, they've got no invite." He nods, showing Coryo the list in his hands which he quickly pretends to look over.

"Oh! Sorry, yes. There you are..." He says, pointing down at the bottom and your father visibly relaxes. "Under the title there that says 'not welcome under any circumstances'... Well then." He looks at your father now for the first time, tilting his head at him.

"No, this is my daughter's wedding and we will be let in!" He demands, raising his voice.

Coryo clicks his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "No, sir, I thought we were clear on this."

"No, you said the wedding. This, if I'm not mistaken, is the reception. I made my sacrifice. Now, I'm here."

"And only about two hours late." Coryo hums uninterestedly, looking down at his watch. "Father of the year."

Your father's fuming, and it's hard for Coryo to not laugh in his face. "I paid for everything here! You can't deny us entry!"

"I can." Coryo says. "Well, actually, my apologies. Mrs. Y/L/N, you are welcome to come in, if you'd like." He smiles at her, polite demeanour flicked back on like a light switch.

Your father quickly pulls her back behind him. "It's both of us or neither of us. Go ask our daughter." He states, gripping tightly on her arm.

"Oh, no. I won't be ruining our wedding." Coryo shakes his head, firm in his decision. "I'll tell Y/N you send your love, Ma'am. Have a good night."

"No! You will let us in right now or-" Your father's tantrum is interrupted by a commotion across the yard, drawing Coryo's attention. People gasp in shock, and then he sees you, about to absolutely lay into Livia Cardew, who now has red wine all over her face and the front of her dress.

"I must be going, now." Coryo tells them, turning back to the security guard and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to be able to roll up his sleeves. "If you don't mind, call for peacekeepers to escort him from the property. Thank you."

He doesn't have time to hear your father's angry disagreement as he walks away.

"So," You drop her arm, turning to face her. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't your wedding." You spit, gesturing to her dress. "And listen, I get it! You're jealous. That's fine, but it's extremely tacky and honestly embarrassing for you to wear a white dress to a wedding that's not yours."

Livia's lips fall open in shock, looking down at her dress before she laughs. "Y/N, come on. It really isn't that serious, you realize that, right?"

You stare at her for a moment, weighing your options. You could smash the glass over her head like you wanted to, demand that she leave immediately, or, you could 'accidentally' spill the glass on her. Before you complete the thought, you're throwing the contents of Clemensia's glass at the front of her dress, smiling as it splatters up over her face and in her hair, dripping down the front of her expensive-looking gown.

"Oops."

Livia gasps, wiping the red substance from around her eyes and flicking it off. "I thought that for one day you could be normal! God, you are vile!" She's practically screaming now.

"This is entirely your fault, you do realize that, right?" You tilt your head at her, a slight laugh under your tone. "If you wanted my husband just say that."

"I- ugh!" She groans in frustration and anger, swiping her hands over the liquid on her chest and flicking it all at you, staining the perfectly white satin of your slip. You look down at it, and then back at her. You were about to go through the roof.

The amount of people watching in the immediate vicinity is the only thing keeping you from grabbing her hair and shoving her head into the dirt. You decide to scream instead.

It turns into more of a wail, pumping angry tears into fake sad ones. Coryo is there in a second. "Darling, what's happened?" He asks, horrified as he looks between the two of you, grabbing your shoulders.

"I-" You sniff, pointing to the girl in front of you. "I just came to offer her something to change into because that is out of dress code and I tripped and-" You hiccup as he's rubbing up and down your bare arms. "It was an accident, and then she... It was just an accident! Now my dress is ruined and, and-"

He turns his gaze to Livia who just looks pissed while you ramble on about having had a little too much to drink, that was all. He's sure that's not what happened, he knows his wife better than that, but this show was not for him. He looks her up and down, visibly disgusted by her choice of dress. It honestly looks better now.

"Coriolanus that's not-" She chuckles with the shock of the accusation, shaking her head as she pleads with him.

"It's time for you to go." He tells her, looking toward a member of security who's not busy with your father, quickly waving him over.

Livia looks at the approaching security man in shock. "I didn't do anything!"

"That dress and causing a scene over it is more than enough." He states, wrapping an arm around your waist and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "Let's get you some water, Darling. It's okay..."

"It's not!" You cry, gesturing to the few small drops of wine on the front of your dress. "It's ruined! She ruined everything!"

Just as she's about to be escorted out, you make eye contact with her, offering a smug smile. She scoffs, which earns her a grab on the arm and a more forceful expulsion from the reception.

"Y/N!" Tigris is rushing across the lawn toward you, careful not to stumble in her shoes and bridesmaids' dress. "What happened?" She asks, addressing her cousin now.

"She's okay, there was just an accident with a glass of wine. We're just going to take a few minutes. I'll help her change." He explains to her.

She nods, looking worriedly down at the small stains in your dress. "I should be able to get this out, alright?" She assures you, rubbing a clean spot of the fabric between her fingers to make sure.

"Okay, thank you." You sniff, leaning into your husband's side as he guides you back up to the house.

You get inside and upstairs to what has become your dressing room and secondary bedroom over the last year. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, you can't hold your laughter back anymore. You're practically doubled over with it, and immediately Coryo understands. He chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"What a show..." He grins fondly, pulling you into a hug which you happily return.

"Oh, you liked it?" You giggle, coming down from your laughing fit.

"It was wonderful." He agrees, kissing the top of your head. "For a moment I was worried about you."

"Aw, really?" You look up at him, jutting your lip out in a pout.

"Definitely." He hums, kissing you softly. "Now come on, let's get you changed, huh?"

"Please." You nod, kissing him again before pulling back to pull your next dress from the closet. "I was supposed to wear this underneath, but now I can't." You sigh, hanging the full dress on the door before pulling the wine-stained one over your head.

"Just that will do, I suppose." Coryo mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you toss the slip onto the ground.

"Oh, you suppose, do you?" You chuckle, reaching up to pull the new dress from its hanger.

"Mhm." He nods, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck. "Makes my job easier later."

You laugh, blush spreading over your cheeks and flushing your chest while you unzip the back. You carefully balance as you step into the opening in the fabric, pulling it up around your waist.

"Don't rush, Darling. It will probably take you a while to recover before we can return to the party." He says, watching you adjust the skirt before you plan on zipping it up.

"Good point." You agree, but make no effort to stop until Coryo places his hand over yours.

"What should we do with all this time we have to kill, hm?" He's already leaning down to kiss over the back of your neck.

"I feel like you have an idea..." You mumble, tilting your head to adjust to his presence.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asks as he gently pushes the fabric back down to drop in a pool around your ankles.

"You may have mentioned it..." You turn under his palms as they land on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "And I love you too. More than you could ever imagine, Coryo."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg fanfic #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #thg movies #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #Spotify

[wardenparker]

New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack Daniels x plus size reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Kingsman Golden Circle #new years eve #new years fic #idiots in love #pining #the love is requited they're just dumb

[babydollmarauders]

TINSEL TIES — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Nico finds a fun way to wait for the fire to die down

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, edging, light bondage, dominant Nico, praise, degradation, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, p in v (unprotected). (3.9k words)

notes: welcome to day 1 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote most of these smuts in...not at all at christmas time! i’m so excited to share these holiday themed smuts with you all and i hope you enjoy!

an orange glow flickers over the living room, the soft tune of christmas music floating throughout the open space of the apartment.

my boyfriend and i stand in front of the christmas tree, meticulously draping ornaments from the prickly branches.

although it’s much too laborious to get a real tree amongst Nico’s schedule, he did agree to buy a fake one for the holidays. a beautiful faux tree that’s been sitting bare and untouched in our living room for far too long. but amidst his chaotic schedule, Nico and i have finally made the time to decorate it together on his night off.

“Neeks,” i speak gently, afraid to break the peaceful ambiance we’ve created in our home. “do you think the guys would come to a holiday party?”

the question is just the result of a fleeting thought; asked as i hang a silver bauble upon the tree, but a serene smile spreads across my boyfriend’s full lips, a glance of adoration shot my way.

“if they didn’t, i’d have them bag skating until they physically can’t get off the ice.” his response causes a soft huff of laughter to fall from my lips, shaking my head in amusement. “why? are you thinking of having a party?”

“no,” i drag out, joking sarcasm dripping from my words, “i was just curious.”

Nico levels me with a single raised brow, an unamused expression painting his face.

“yes, Neeks, i’m thinking of hosting a christmas party.” i tell him, gently hanging the next ornament as i speak, “i just feel like i don’t do enough. i mean, i’m the captain’s girlfriend; isn’t it kinda my job to host and fundraise and stuff?

“like, should i be making the team snacks or something? i don’t know how this works. is it like a soccer mom situation? should i be making protein shakes and sending apple slices with you to practices?”

my anxious ramble fades off as Nico’s hands come to rest upon my hips, pulling me towards him with an entertained smile.

“you don’t have to do any of that, süsse.” his forehead dips down, forehead pressing against mine, “although i wouldn’t mind some apple slices for myself.

“but if you would like to throw a christmas party, then we can do that.”

my arms wrap around, locking over the back of his neck and pulling him down until his lips meet mine. the kiss is sweet; soft and loving, as well as tasting faintly of store bought lofthouse cookies. when i pull back, his lips chase mine, eagerly trying not to let the moment fizzle, but i turn my eyes towards the tree, letting him lips land upon my cheek instead.

“i think it’s done.” i whisper, ignoring his aggravated groan at my rejection.

“we still have two more bags of ‘necessary’ decorations.” he reminds me, pointing over towards the armchair where a couple reusable grocery bags sit filled with various items that i had assured him we needed.

“okay, so i may have overbought.” my shoulders shrug lazily, my eyes rolling.

“you?” Nico questions sarcastically, gazing back down at me with an appalled look. “i bought them all. you just threw them in the cart.”

“and i obviously took my job very seriously, now we have extras for next year, if we decide to switch it up.”

my boyfriend untangles from my grasp, ducking under my arms to walk over to the bags of decor. he sticks his hand in, fishing out an unopened string of tinsel garland.

“what would we even use this for?” he huffs, glaring down at the sparkly red material in his hands.

“to put on the tree, obviously!”

Nico looks at me with a blank expression, his shoulders slumping as his eyes flicker from me to the tree and back.

“obviously.” his accent is thick and monotonous, obviously not charmed by my response. “but we didn’t use it at all.”

“well no, but we could find other uses for it!” i cheer, stalking over to try and pluck the tinsel from his grasp, but his grip on the package tightens. “like, maybe we could tie it somewhere in the apartment.”

his head snaps up from looking at the sparkly garland, eyes lighting up as he stares at me. “i think i have an idea.”

“yeah? what is it?” he throws the package on the coffee table, assuring me that we’ll use it later, before his eyes flit to the fireplace.

our fire is no longer what it once was when we started it around two hours ago. not yet dwindling but no longer blazing high and providing copious amount of heat.

“how long until the fire dies out?” i ask him, a small yawn pushing out of me. “maybe starting it so late wasn’t a good idea, i’m getting a bit tired; but we can’t leave it unattended.”

“if you’re that tired, i could watch it while you go to sleep.”

while i appreciate his kind sentiment, i shake my head, rather taking a seat on the couch instead.

“i don’t wanna sleep without you. besides, i can stay up. i’m not too tired.”

Nico sits beside me, pulling my thighs over his lap in one swift movement. one of his arms wraps around my waist, the other resting over my legs, his hand grasping at half my ass.

i lean forward, my chest pressing against his, and my neck cranes up, eyes gazing into his.

“kiss me.” i whisper, his head dipping down and his lips brushing lightly across mine.

“did you just tell me to kiss you?” he chuckles, pulling me forward to sit entirely in his lap.

“i did.” i confirm.

Nico leans forward, an arm wrapped around my waist to hold me to him as he grabs the package of tinsel from the coffee table.

as he leans back, he spins me around on his lap, my back towards his chest. i can hear the crinkle of plastic, furrowing my brows in confusion.

“what are you doing?” i laugh, attempting to peek over my shoulder.

“i told you i had an idea.”

“mhm,” i hum, “and what is it?”

“safe word?” my brows pull together again at his dismissal of my question.

“stoppen.” i recite the safe word, a german translation of ‘stop’ that he had taught me early in our relationship.

“good girl.”

his words spark a heat within me, blood rushing to my cheeks at his praise.

my arms are pulled behind my back, wrists held together with one of his own, before i feel the scratchy sensation of the tinsel being wrapped around them.

“Neeks,” my breathing picks up, chest rising and falling in quick succession as i feel him tie a knot in the garland.

i wiggle my hands, making sure the restraint isn’t too tight, and when i don’t complain, Nico pushes me up to stand on my feet. his hands spin my hips, my feet shuffling as i turn to face him.

“so pretty, süsse.” i can feel my face redden under his gaze, his gentle compliment causing fire to spread under my skin.

“thank you, Neeks.” my words are murmured softly, spoken as his hands drag along my sides.

his touch slips below my tank top, calloused fingertips smoothing along my heated skin and drawing goosebumps to the top of my flesh. a shaky breath passes my lips, his fingers dragging down until he reaches the waistband of my corduroy skirt.

“we don’t need this.” he tsk’s, popping the plastic button through the hole and letting the skirt pool to the floor around my feet.

cold air hits my now bare skin, my panties dampening as Nico’s hands rub along the sides of my thighs. he pulls me forward until i’m straddling a single leg, my panty covered core sitting on his muscular, jean clad thigh.

my lips part, eyes falling hooded as his hands grip my hips, guiding them back and forth on top of him.

“Nico,” i shudder, letting out a yelp as he smacks a hand against my ass.

“is that what you call me?” he gruffs, dark, lust filled eyes boring into mine.

his hands move my hips faster, his thigh tensing underneath me.

“Captain.” i whimper, my head tipping back as he bounces his leg lightly. a wet patch grows on the fabric of his jeans making him chuckle as i get wetter, my clit grinding down against him.

“soaking my leg like a whore.” he shakes his head as though he disapproves, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “what am i gonna do with you?”

blood rushes through my ears, drowning out the christmas music as i stare at my lover. his eyes are dark, pupils blown and his gaze stern; his thick, prominent eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches me grind along his leg.

the well groomed stubble that accentuates his face scruffs against my cheek as he leans forward, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss.

i moan into his lips, his tongue slipping through and pushing against mine as his hands hasten the pace of my hips.

my strangled gasp breaks our kiss, the fabric of my panties rubbing against my clit making climax approach faster.

“Cap, i’m gonna-” a knot tangles in my stomach, pressure building as my legs begin to shake and my eyes roll back into my head.

my hips are forcibly stopped, my fast approaching orgasm quickly diminishing as Nico holds my hips still. a whine falls from my lips, my eyes flying open to gauge him as pleads are babbled off my tongue.

“please, no, why?” i cry, the corner of my boyfriend’s lips quirking up in a smirk.

“let’s test your memory,” he starts, eyes glaring into mine, “last week, do you remember what you did?”

i rack my brain, filing through everything i did last week before i finally settle on what he’s referencing. sunday, right before his game against the Oilers, i sent him a video i had taken that morning; my fingers buried deep in my pussy, my breath heavy and whimpering as i moaned his name.

we’ve yet to have the chance for an intimate moment since he got back on monday, between his practices, my work schedule, and his game last night, but i had hoped he had forgotten about his promise to punish me for my actions.

“no, Nico, please.” i whine, my hands pulling at the restraints. his hands slip up, sliding over my breasts and letting his thumbs circle my stiffened nipples.

“beg all you want, süsse, i stand by my promises.” his voice is stern and unwavering, his fingers hooking over the top of my tank top.

he yanks the fabric down, my breasts spilling over until the shirt is so far down that it’s held underneath completely underneath them.

“you don’t get to cum until that fire dies down.” my head snaps over to survey the fire, its flame slowly fizzling out. i’d estimate at least another forty-five minutes or so until it’s done for good.

my breath catches in my throat as he takes me by surprise, his lips attaching to my right nipple as his left hand rolls the other between his fingers.

a high pitched moan mingles with the sound of ‘White Christmas’, my arms struggling against the tinsel ties, yearning to bury my fingers into his hair. my spine arches, pushing my breasts further into his face.

i can feel his growing smirk against my skin, his fingers pinching and rolling the left bud as his tongue swirls around the right before sucking it into his mouth.

he hums, the vibrations traveling through my body, and i make a hollow attempt at grinding my hips against his leg, only succeeding in reminding him to wrap his free hand around me, holding my hips still.

“Captain, please.” i plead, my tone high and nasal as i beg, but he just hums again, this time in disagreement.

his lips release my nipple, kissing his way over to the left before repeating the process, now pinching and prodding at the right in a torturous game of teasing.

he slowly begins to rock my hips back and forth, dragging my pulsing clit along his strained thigh as an extra stimulation.

my body shakes, overwhelmed with pleasure as my head falls back, vision going fuzzy as broken sounds fall from my lips.

i can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, but my brain is urging for me to beg to cum, hoping he’ll show mercy on me. my requests come out babbled and stuttered, not nearly what i had hoped, and Nico chuckles against my skin.

my toes curl as the familiar tightening pressure builds backs up within my stomach, my abdomen clenching as my legs begin to shake. and when Nico doesn’t pull away, i begin to believe that he’s giving me compassion, but as quick as the thought enters my mind, its expelled out.

just as i reach the precipice of my release, my walls tightening around nothing, his lips are pulled away, his hand dropping from my nipple and his arms wrapping tightly around to halt my grinding movements.

frustrated tears pool in my eyes, a silent sob wracking my chest and expelling past my lips in puffs of air. looking back into my boyfriends eyes, his expression is cocky and unforgiving, a smirk resting on his lips.

“awww,” he coos, swiftly turning and dropping me on the couch cushions beside him. “you’re being a good girl now, aren’t you? desperate to cum.”

i nod my head eagerly, shifting around underneath his gaze as i lay uncomfortably atop of my tied back arms.

“wanna cum so bad!” i whimper, my eyes fleeting over to asses the once great fire. it’s next to nothing now, and when i look back at Nico, i can tell he’s displeased by the sight.

“alright, i’ll let you cum.” a weight is lifted off my chest, a sigh of relief huffing past my smiling lips.

i eye my boyfriend eagerly as his fingers tug at the waistband of my panties, pulling them down and dropping them to the floor. he sheds himself of his t-shirt, his tight upper body on full display for me to enjoy as he hooks one of my weakened legs over the back of the couch.

bowing down between my legs, i can feel his hot breath fan over my dripping core, squirming in need as he gets closer and closer to where i so desperately crave his touch. his eyes meet mine, holding contact as he blows cool air directly onto my puffy clit, and chuckling as my hips jerk up towards him.

his arms wrap around my upper thighs, hands sprawling across my lower hips to hold me down as he licks one long stripe through my core.

“captain!”

my head falls back into the cushions as i cry out his name, wishing i could thread my fingers in his hair and push him deeper to where i want him.

he dips down again, tongue circling my clit before sliding back down towards my pussy. his tongue prods into me, flicking once before he really dives in. my back arches from the cushions, breathy moans coaxed out as he begins eating me like a man starved.

his nose nudges against my clit, his fingers sliding up to hold my thighs in a bruising grip as he slurps at my wetness, spreading it around as lubrication.

“cap!” i scream as his lips enclose around my swollen clit, rolling it through his lips a few times before flicking his tongue against it. one leg hooks over his shoulder, pushing him forward as i’m finally able to grind my hips against his face.

relinquishing his duty of holding me still, he plunges two fingers inside of me, curling them up to hit the velvety spot that makes me scream out in pleasure. pumping them in and out, he scissors the appendages, stretching my entrance in a pleasurably painful sensation.

with his fingers keeping me full, his mouth focuses on my clit, repetitively sucking and licking. my eyes roll back in my head, my vision dancing with stars as i feel my orgasm build up for what i believe is the last time.

a third finger pushes its way inside of me, the burning sensation of fullness making my legs shake around him as my breath catches in my throat. my pussy tightens around his fingers, effectively making him aware that i’m close whilst i can no longer speak.

but just when i’m about to cum, my orgasm is cruelly ripped away once more, his fingers pulling out and leaving empty as his mouth is detached from my clit, nothing but cold air hitting against it now.

“no!” i yell, voice gravely and sore as tears flood from my eyes. i open them again to find Nico sitting up on his knees, staring down at me with a dangerous an mocking smirk.

“you didn’t really think i was gonna let you cum, did you, süsse?” he teases, his lips frowning in a faux pout. “oh, you did. the fire wasn’t done yet, sweets.”

my head snaps over towards the fire for the last time, and through the blurry vision of my tears, i can see the final dying embers of the fire, nothing but a faintly orange glow of the logs now.

my chest heaves as i look back at my boyfriend, my face dropped in a pout as salty tears trail down into my hair.

“that was mean, Nico!” i sob, looking anywhere but his eyes.

his cocky expression drops, a look of genuine concern etching across his face as he comes to hover above me.

“oh, baby,” he coos, littering short kisses on both of my cheeks before pressing a long one to my lips. “it’s okay, you can cum now.”

i sniffle, peering up at him through wet lashes, “really this time?”

“yeah, really. but, you know, if it ever becomes too much, you can use your safe word.” i nod along to his words.

“i know, but it wasn’t anything that was too much.” i confess, “it was just mean. you told me i could! and then you didn’t let me!”

“are your arms okay?” he wonders, and i crinkle my nose.

“they’re fine, but this position is uncomfortable.” he nods, backing away and helping me sit up before i whine, “can you just fuck me now?”

a hearty laugh leaves his lips at my switch up, leaning forward to pull me in for a kiss.

“you wanna cum on my cock like a good girl, süsse?” he mutters, pulling back to watch me hastily nod.

his hands grip my hips, flipping me over to lay on my stomach before pulling my hips up so my ass is up in the air.

i wait impatiently, eyes set on the last of the dying embers of the fire as i listen to him unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down and letting them drop to the floor with a thud.

the couch cushions dip down as he kneels on them behind me, one hand gripping my hip as he uses the other to give a few tugs to his cock.

my hips jerk as he slides his cock through my folds, lubricating himself in my wetness. tapping the tip of his cock against my clit, i let out a breathy whine, pushing my pussy back towards him.

“greedy little slut.” he tsk’s, prodding my entrance with his tip and watching as my walls attempt to suck him in whilst i moan.

he repeats the movement a few more times, teasing me one last time before he finally pushes into me in one swift movement. a squeak passing my parted lips as his cock bottoms out inside of me, filling me up so well.

“oh, Nico!” i breathe out, my body lighting up as his hand smooths over my spine, before gripping my waist.

Nico groans, pulling out and then thrusting back in at a slow speed before gradually picking up the pace. my hands form fists, my nails digging into my palms as he controls my hips, slamming into me and pushing my hips forward before pulling them back against him.

the sound of our skin slapping together and his hard cock sliding in and out of my wet cunt mixes with breathy moans and deep grunts, as well as the christmas music that still floats through the apartment.

the tip of his cock hits the soft, spongey spot inside of me with each stroke, my eyes fluttering shut as i curse, screaming his name without any care of our neighbors hearing.

“this pretty pussy was made for me.” he gruffs, hands tightening around my hips as my walls clench around him, my breathing picking up as i wiggle my hips.

one of his hands slides around my front, his fingertip pressing against my clit and making me whimper as he fucks into me, rubbing the bundle of nerves in figure eights.

“Nico, please!” i beg, the all too familiar feeling of my impending orgasm looming over me as my stomach ties itself in knots.

my legs begin to shake, weakening, and i’m sure if Nico wasn’t holding me up, they would’ve given out.

“let go for me, sweets.” my walls clench at his words, attempting to keep him in the same position as my body seizes up, tensing as i finally reach my long awaited orgasm.

he continues to fuck me through my release, thrusts turning sloppy and hastened as he chases his own, until he finally shudders, his hips stilling as he cums, filling me up with his release.

Nico lets out a shaky sigh, giving us both a moment to let oxygen return to our brains before reaching up and untying the knot of tinsel garland around my wrists. pulling out of me with a hiss, he drops himself to the couch, watching as i sit up and shake out my half-asleep arms.

i slump against his side, pulling my tank top back up to cover my chest as i snuggle closer into his sweaty body.

“i think we’re going to have to clean the couch if you still wanna host a party.” he finally speaks, coaxing a bubble of laughter up from my throat.

“yeah, but i think a shower sounds nice first.” i sigh, pushing myself off the couch to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly underneath me, wobbling until Nico stands, grasping my hand in his.

“you’re right, let’s go.” he hums, helping me towards our bedroom and to our en-suite bathroom.

“who said you were joining me?” i tease, raising an eyebrow; but when he turns to look at me, a lust-driven and domineering look on his face, i shrug, “on second thought, a shower together would be nice.”

“mhm.” he simpers, turning around to turn the shower water on, and i stick my tongue out behind his back; accidentally leaving it out for too long.

he looks at me with eyebrows raised as i hurriedly pull my tongue back into my mouth, my body not nearly ready for another ‘punishment’ before he laughs.

“let’s get you cleaned up, süsse, you must be tired.”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #nico hischier blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

[thegnomelord]

Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.

So here's an idea for an au:

Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.

Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.

He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.

And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.

When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.

Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.

He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.

"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.

"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.

With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.

But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.

And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.

Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.

And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)

He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.

You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."

You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.

Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.

Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.

"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.

Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D

#gnome's tea break #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #trinkets from the hoard #captain #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap ma #john soap mactavish #devil angel au #cod #cod modern warfare #cod devil angel au

[cozymoko]

MOTHERLY READER HCS (FT. SIYUN BAEK)

Synopsis: Siyun Baek growing up with a motherly "obsession". ♡

Pairing: Siyun Baek x female! reader

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, obsession, mild spoilers

Word Count: 1.7k

IN MIDDLE SCHOOL, the two of you were very popular amongst your peers. Siyun for his good looks and charisma; and you for your kind, nurturing attitude that could make anyone swoon. Siyun was no exception.

Your kindness drew him in like a bee, mindlessly chasing sweet nectar constantly, persistently even. Oh dear, can you blame him? It was a thing he was so selfishly robbed of by his own “loving” parents. Something you seemed to have a lot of for even those who don’t deserve it.

It was Love.

Only his closest friends knew of his slight “crush” on you and it came as no surprise. You were loved unconditionally by those in your year, platonically and romantically. You were sweet, and optimistic, and wore your heart on your sleeve for anyone to see. What wasn’t there to like?

Alas, getting close to you was the issue. When you weren’t crowded by students, he was. When you were by yourself and peaceful, he wasn’t. When he finally had free time his nerves were practically eating him alive, causing him to shy away from any attempt to speak with you.

However, giving up wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t allow it.

Naturally, you were chosen as class rep, leaving you to tend to all classroom affairs. Which was quite laborious for just one person. Your teacher, taking note of your troubles, finally gave you a hand. (By making one of your classmates help you.)

“Baek Siyun, help {Name} deliver these to the faculty office.”

You snorted. Not what I had in mind but I'm not complaining.

The walk from homeroom to the facility office was a lengthy difference away. Finding the tense silence to be a bit uncomfortable, you decide to make conversation with your popular senior.

“It's been a while since we've spoken, Baek Siyun; how are you?” You smiled, gazing fondly at your classmate. “You're much quieter than usual, are you sure you're eating properly?”

It was true that you’d never had an actual conversation with the boy, but nonetheless, you remembered his name. It was impossible to forget when everyone in your year was practically enamored with him, though you could clearly see why. So as one does, you strike up a conversation with him.

However, you had not expected that to kickstart such a wonderful beginning.

TWO MONTHS LATER...he asked you out in front of the school at that. In his hand was a bouquet of colorful peonies wrapped in fluorescent papers, with a gigantic teddy bear hooked safely beneath his unoccupied arm. A soft pink painted his skin as he patiently awaited your response. He looked so bashful and sweet that it was almost adorable.

How the fuck could you ever reject that?

Siyun had never been one to stay in one place, in his unloving home nonetheless. Most of his nights were spent at your house, with no call or even a text from his parents on a normal day. Fortunately, your parents were wealthy enough to host the two of you on most days.

You pat his head, motioning towards the clock, flashing [18:27]. Much too late for him to be here, in your house, suffocating you. His childish whines interrupted your thoughts, tickling your skin as he made no real effort to move. He peered at you through thick lashes and you swore you could see hearts in his pale eyes. You sighed, “Figures.”

You were aware of his situation but you never expected him to run away, without contacting you at that. You were devastated, searching every perimeter of his neighborhood. Up, Down, Over, and Under: No matter where you looked, Siyun was nowhere in sight.

Exact at the park down the street from your goddamn house.

“Hey, Siyoon-Ah, where have you been?” You huffed, resting your hands amidst the tempting curve of your hips. You looked as if you wanted to scold him. Yell at the top of your lungs until your throat grows raw, harsh breaths wracking your body. Unbeknownst to you, that's exactly what he wanted.

IN HIGHSCHOOL...you decided to keep your relationship a secret to Siyun’s dismay, but only to maintain his career! It's not like you wanted him to be surrounded by so many girls, vying for his attention. You hated it! Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

“Baby, why are you ignoring me~?” Siyun whined into your chest, his sharp eyes peeking at you through heavily tinted sunglasses.

He had grown much clingier in the time you spent together but given his situation you expected nothing less.

“Was I? I’m sorry, I was just thinking…That’s all.” You weren’t lying but something about your actions gave it away. You had been staring at a random group of girls who you’d recognized from your class, watching them with a bitter expression.

“As much as I enjoy your jealousy, I’d rather see you smile.” He cooed, gently kissing your lips. “I’ll quit being an idol if that’s what you want. I don't mind us being public.”

“Siyun, no!”

In public he never referred to you formally, however, you did. You wished to keep this act up when he could give two fucks about it. Hearing you refer to him in polite speech made him was to bite you, (the fuck) considering you were already past that stage already.

But considering the two of you were attached at the hip, some of your peers had begun to suspect some things; (insert names), specifically. (insert name) had been vying for your attention since you first arrived at that school and you weren’t having it. Seeing the way he treated his fans made you a bit uncomfortable; his arrogance didn't excite you.

He was a polar opposite of your boyfriend and you weren't very interested in speaking with him.

“Sorry Kang Na-Hyuk Sunbae, but I'm already interested in someone. I cannot return your feelings.”

You give him a strained smile, lightly swaying on the balls of your feet. You watch his hand coil into tight fists

“Who is it—?”

“[Name]!” You visibly perk up at the sound of your name, turning to the direction of the culprit.

“Baek Siyun, hi!” Before you knew it you were at his side, ignoring how the idol's gaze lingered on the man just a distance away.

That's when it clicked.

You were romantically involved with Siyun Baek.

Then the rumors started, spreading around the school like a wildfire, tearing down. His reputation in a matter of seconds. It made you sick, being subjected to appalling rumors about your lover, behind his back nevertheless. Watching everyone turn their back on their favorite idol over a few lies. 

But you stayed by his side.

“Look at [Last Name], she's too sweet for her own good, hanging out with someone like him.”

“Right, hasn't she heard that he's violent? Poor girl.”

“Maybe we should talk her out of this, it's too dangerous!”

You payed them no mind as though they slipped in one ear and out the other.

The idol world was a very shady place filled with assholes and weirdos all around it. Your mind had led you to believe this was the doing of a certain brunette, and you weren't too far off.

Despite how calm he looked on the outside, his facade was crumbling. Siyun had lost his temper countless times, fueling the pointless drama swarming the media. Yet, you didn't turn on him. You comforted him as you always did.

Siyun had begun to cave into your affection. He craved you, his only real source of support. Even when those around him looked down upon him, you had not. You gently stroked his ashen locs, hugging him close in a secluded area of the school.

All he needed was you.

HIS ACCIDENT left you heartbroken and you could hardly contain yourself at word of it. Your feet carried you long and far to the hospital that had been hosting him, as you drowned out the faint shouts of your parents behind you.

You knew what Kang Na-Hyuk had done and you couldn't help but think you were at fault. Were you not careful enough with your actions? Did your rejection have something to do with this? How badly was he hurt?

Regardless, you couldn't help but blame yourself. One of the sweetest (and craziest) boys you've ever met was in the hospital and you couldn't do anything to stop it.

“Please show me Baek Siyun's room!” A soft pink dusted your cheekbones at your volume, but you did your best to ignore it.

Your feet carried you down the cold hallways, aching and fatigued. You could hardly remember the last time you ran so fast. You burst through the door, halting the conversation being held within it.

“Out!” You huffed, leaning on the door. “Get the fuck out, all of you!”

Siyun sat there wide-eyed at your outburst, you were never one to curse but you could hardly help yourself. You approached his bed, gently grazing his chilled skin with sorrowful eyes. Even then all you could do was apologize, apologies for something you took no part in.

“How cute~ What are you apologizing for? You didn't do this to me.” A warm feeling bloomed in his chest at your arrival. He never realized just how much he missed you.

“Well...I—Hey!” You shouted, “Siyun-Ah, what're you—?!”

You were so sweet he swore he could just eat you up!

Siyun buried his head between your breasts. His slim fingers grip your sides, leaving deep crescent moons in his wake. He bit his lip, nearly enough to draw blood as he refused to meet your curious gaze. The sporadic drumming in his chest left him flushed, huffing out rushed breaths every second.

He smiled, Maybe this isn't all that bad.

Sure having his idol friends was fun. He wanted them by his side. But eh what's the point? Having his girlfriend coddle him was way more up his alley anyways. You were much more enjoyable to be around than all of them combined.

And at least you'll be here forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and EVeR and EvEr and EveR and EVER!

#—🍁 #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #yancore #yandere male #male yandere #siyoon baek #siyun baek #baek siyun #dreaming freedom #dreaming freedom x reader #siyun baek x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere hedacanons #yandere manwha #manwha headcanons #manwha x reader

[yoongis-black-grilfriend]

Misunderstanding

Summary; Your boyfriend and his band are hosting a Halloween themed show for the holiday. Things are going well until Eddie suddenly decides that he wants to fuck his girlfriend on stage.

Warnings: voyeurism, Creaming, penetrative sex, Cockwarming?, Spitting, Humiliation, Mean!Eddie, Overstimulation? Eddie plays the drums in this sorry.

You sway your hips to the beat of the current song that your boyfriend was playing. You were dressed in a short dress that went along with Eddie's outfit because he wanted to match.

He kept meeting your eye throughout the whole night and you could tell he was becoming more and more impatient throughout the songs that he was playing. The song came to an end and you heard “We're going to be taking a quick break and then we'll be back guys.” Your boyfriend said through his microphone putting his sticks down.

Some people let out a whine as they didn't want the band to stop playing and others took the time to get something to drink or use the bathroom. His bandmates took this time to go catch some groupies that were eyeing them all night so it was just the two of them left on the stage.

“Come up here baby” You had a little smile on your face as you had your way up on the stage. He pushed his chair back with a lustful look in his eyes. As soon as you made it close enough to him and cupped your face into his hand and slammed his lips into yours.

Letting out a small whimper Eddie lets out a deep groan with finally being able to feel his lips on your moving in sync like waves in the ocean. He detaches your lips and attaches them to your neck letting his tongue roam your neck he lets his hands travel to your legs and lets his hand creep under your dress. He uses his pointer finger to feel the dampness collecting in your panties.

In a hurry he pulls them off and puts them to his nose, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when he smells your essence on them. “Fuck you are so perfect baby, I just want to take you right now”

You let out a small chuckle that he took as you mocking him. He quickly wrapped his huge hands around your neck causing the air from your lungs to disappear. He was about to say something until one of his managers came in.

“You guys can finish up later, the next set is starting” Eddie takes this with a grain of salt and moves one of his hands to your cheeks squeezing your lips together your lips are now in a pout. “Open your slutty mouth now” you try to open your mouth as much as his hand would allow Eddie to move closer to your face and let a glob of spit travel onto your tongue.

It feels like it travels down your throat and you swallow it. He rubs his thumb on your cheek before you feel a sharp pain on it making your head be forced to the other side. The pain hurt but it turned you on and actually put a smile on your face. Your boyfriend wasn't mean to you for no reason. He genuinely thought that you were making fun of him (which you weren't) but you're not going to tell him that you liked him when he would mean like this.

Someone clears their throat and you try to scramble off the stage forgetting that someone was still there but Eddie grabs your waist. “No you don’t, you're going to sit on my cock during the rest of this performance since you think this shit is funny.”

He drags you over to his drum set unbuckling his black pants and taking his cock out of his boxers. You could already tell he was hard just by looking at him and he grabs your wrist. Rubbing the shaft he rubs it against your pussy for a couple of moments before slamming his cock into bullying his thick cock into a tight pussy you let out a loud gasp feeling his cock fully stretch your walls out.

Tears sprung in your eyes as you didn't have any time to adjust. Eddie's bandmates were already making their way up the stage not even batting an eyelash when they saw you sitting on your boyfriend's lap. Before you could say something or even protest everyone started flooding the doors and surrounding the stage.

He picked up his sticks and you closed your eyes to hide the fact that you were in pure bliss right now. He leaned close to the microphone. “I hope you guys don’t mind that I have my lady here with me, you guys know how it can get with them sometimes,” he said and the crowd laughed.

You were trying so hard not to show any kind of emotion but the feeling of thrusting his hips into your stomach was doing so many things to you right now. Looking down you see Eddie's foot pressing down pon the petal to hit the drum as he bounced up and down along to the beat of his music. Looking into the crowd you saw how everyone was enjoying themselves in their costumes under the orange lights in the stadium.

Then as the song picked up going to the chores so did Eddie’s pace. He leans over to your ear “Everyone in this crowd can see how good you're being fucked, How does that feel?” he asked and you said nothing the pleasure you were feeling was way too strong. “Answer me right now before I pull out of you and actually show all these people how hard you're being fucked, sweetheart.”

“It feels good Eds, so fucking good I’m going to cum soon daddy.” The ending of the song was approaching and so was your orgasm. “Cum all over my cock give me everything you got” trying to keep your straight face you turn your face into his shoulder as you felt the knot at the bottom of your abdomen about to snap.

With one last hit of his drums, you cum sinking your teeth into your boyfriend's shoulder to block out your screams Eddie reaches down secretly rubbing your clit and riding out your orgasm, feeling you cream all over his cock clenching your walls around him causing him to cum deep inside you. Suddenly you cry out again as another song begins.

You forgot that that was only the first song of the second set.

#yoongis black girlfriend kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober 22 #kinktober #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson kinktober #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x black reader #eddie x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #x black fem reader #x fem reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #strangerthings fic #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn imagine #rockstar!eddie #drummer!eddie #eddie munson x yn #mean!eddie munson