#a woman’s hair is nobody else’s business

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

[aphrogeneias]

in plain sight — one-shot

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader, rockstar!steve harrington x assistant!reader (one-sided)

summary: corroded coffin has a substitute drummer for the last dates of their stadium tour, and he's everything eddie dislikes, but his aggravation towards the drummer turns into something more when he starts getting a little too close to you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (+18), secret relationship, jealousy, possessiveness. steve isn't a bad guy but eddie sees him that way. bathroom sex, exhibitionism, finger sucking, fingering, unprotected sex.

author's note: this is based on a request by the lovely @thornsnvultures and i went a little overboard with it <3 oops.

As the house party raged around him, Eddie was not enjoying himself.

Everything was bothering him. The way the railing was digging to his back as he slouched back on it, his beer was getting warmer by the second, the buzz of whatever he'd smoked back inside long gone. He was in a mansion in Bel Air, overlooking the hills, celebrating selling out one of the biggest shows of his career yet, but he felt miserable.

If you were there, you'd tell him he was being dramatic, but that was exactly his problem — you weren't.

It was the last leg of the tour and you'd been beyond busy, busier than usual. Being their tour manager’s assistant, you had to be everywhere with Rick, and Rick had been working nonstop to make sure everything was happening accordingly. You'd been traveling back and forth, working late, helping the supporting bands as well.

Eddie was proud of you, but he missed you like hell.

What was bothering him the most, however, was not your absence, but the presence of someone else. See, Gareth had pulled a stunt that had cost Corroded Coffin their beloved drummer — a stunt that involved a risky jump and a hotel pool, and ended in a broken arm and a mild concussion.

They had to hire a substitute drummer, and Steve Harrington came with good recommendations, and a reputation to match. He'd played with multiple different glam metal bands in the past, and while that wasn't the band’s usual style, they were desperate and on a tight schedule. Steve and his excessive hair routine would have to do.

Except that Eddie couldn't stand the guy and his show-off attitude. It was one thing to demand attention on stage, something he was acquainted with, but he was constantly surrounded by people, talking loudly, making demands and getting on his nerves.

The worst was when you were around, which was — and Eddie had never thought he would even say this — thankfully not much.

Eddie understood, believe him. Being near you was tempting enough, and he knew he wasn't the only man, or woman, who felt this way in your presence. It didn't mean he was okay with it, especially when he couldn't publically stake his claim on you.

You were his, even if nobody knew. If he had his way, the whole world would.

Whenever you were able to be around, Steve was all over you, claiming he needed help adapting. He always needed a favor or two, all of which Eddie doubted were really a necessity. You smiled and obliged, as always. It made Eddie’s blood boil, the way he always seemed to stand a little too close to you, running a hand through his hard and batting his eyelashes at you.

Regrettably, it also made Eddie feel like a hypocrite. Before you were together, that's exactly what he would do to get your attention, and he still does — asking for favors only to have you all to himself, sneaking you into an empty room to spread you out on the nearest surface, to feel you close.

The only difference was that Steve had no right to, whether he knew it or not.

Eddie made his way back inside of the house, grabbing a bottle of whiskey that was left half full on the rail near him. He took a generous sip as he watched the scene developing in front of him. Steve sat in the middle of the couch, surrounded by their guests, a groupie in each arm, and they hung onto his every word.

“Hey, man!” From the other side of the room, the drummer waved him over with a smile, and a cigarette hanging on the side of his lips. “Come sit with us!”

The guitarist waved back, but with no intention of following through. Just then, two people walked in the front door. An older man in a brown coat and a woman on his arm, and right behind them, you. A vision in a fur coat, the one he got you while in Europe, and the knee high boots he loved so much.

Your eyes met through the crowded living room, and he fought the urge to run to you and hold you tight, lift you in his arms and make you yelp as he squeezed you tight. Neither of you moved, though.

There was a slight movement of your head, a discreet nod he knew well. Later.

Another nod. Another swig of the bottle on his hand. Later.

Watching you move around the house, mingling with the guests, making the rounds by Rick’s side was torture.

Sweet, sweet torture. Following your hips with his eyes, swaying as you walked. Watching your lips wrap around the bottle of beer handed to you by another man, the lipstick print left around the neck that he wished was on him.

He was getting tipsy, and probably obvious with his constant staring. Not that he cared, really.

Time passed as he did his own socializing. Fellow musicians, big shot executives, journalists trying to get a piece of him. Always one eye on you.

Distracted with making small talk with the guitarist from another band, he almost missed you passing right beside him, bumping delicately into him, and carefully placing a hand on his arm.

Just a small run of your thumb over his skin had him folding.

Eddie excused himself, following you to the most crowded part of the living room, where everyone was too distracted by the loud music coming from the big loudspeakers near the wall, or too under the influence of something or other to care who's around them.

The light was low, your eyes glowing under the black eyeliner around them, seeing right through him from where you stood, resting your body against the wall.

“Hey.”

The shy smile glistened on your pretty lips. He desperately wanted to kiss it off. Instead, he just answered, “Hey, you.”

He got closer, close enough to brush your body with his, watching your thighs fall open for him to fit between them. His lips laid a soft kiss on your cheek, and you turned slightly to nuzzle his nose with yours.

He was finally able to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Watching him closely, your eyes ran over his features. “What's got you all pouty like this, huh?”

Your hand caught his chin, pinching it between your fingers, squishing his lips together. He held your wrist in a reverent palm, removing your hand and kissing your fingers.

“‘M tired, and I missed you.”

You squinted at him. “That's not all, though. Is it?”

He sighed, long and still a little irritated. “Steve is getting on my fucking nerves.”

“I knew it.” You smiled, triumphant. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You knew it?”

“Baby, you are too obvious. Everybody knows, even Rick and he's stoned most of the time. Lucky for you, Steve doesn't seem to care, or if he does, he doesn't let on.”

You had an amused look on your face, lips downturned comically as to imitate his own. Eddie couldn't help himself, and leaned in to bite your cheek, playfully growling as he did it. Stop it, you cried out, pushing him off of you.

“I don't care what he thinks. I'm just glad he'll be gone soon.”

“What is it about him that has you all worked up, anyway?”

Your question made him mentally start listing all of the reasons the drummer got him like that. Center of attention, cares too much about his looks, tries to steal his girl. The last reason was the main one, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

Instead, he points to the couch where he's still sitting, soaking up on the attention he's being given. Glowing under the gaze of the adorning crowd around him. “Look at him,” Eddie rolled his eyes, and forgot for a moment how exasperated he was when you giggled, leaning in close, “seriously! We're not that kind of band.”

“Are you saying you're not a band of handsome guys?” You purred, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to look your sulking boyfriend in the eye.

“That's not what I…” He huffed, eyebrows pinched, full-on pouting. “You think he's handsome?”

“Now it's my turn to say that's not what I meant.”

Eddie pulled you further into the corner, frustrated that he could only hold you like this in public in dark corners, hiding you in plain sight. His hands pulled you impossibly closer by the waist, and turned you so that your back was pressed against the wall.

His lips traveled lazily over the soft skin of your neck, taking in your scent, the taste of sweat and smoke and something uniquely you, biting on the sensitive place where your neck met your shoulder. He wished he could hear the sweet sounds he was pulling from you, but the deep bass coming from the nearby loudspeaker kept them from him.

“Don't want to talk anymore.” Eddie mumbled, kissing up your neck again, leaving wet kisses in his wake. “Want you.”

Pulling on his curls, you made him look at you as you giggled again, and for the first time that night, Eddie forgot what was bothering him in the first place. You leaned in to kiss him, smiling into his lips, “You started it.”

You stay like that for a moment, savoring each other. Stealing a taste or two, each kiss made sweeter by the urge of a borrowed moment. When he was just starting to push you against the wall a little harder, hands grasping your waist with unbridled need, you pulled away.

Eddie tried his best not to show his frustration, lowering his forehead to rest on your shoulder. Lovingly, you ran a hand over his hair, “I need to make the rounds a little more, and then we'll be outta here, ‘kay? We can leave together, we'll figure out a way.”

“I hate this.”

He didn't need to say more. He knew you understood.

“I know.” You whispered, and kissed his temple, making him sigh. “I don't like it either, but you got me for the rest of the night. I promise.”

You had to part ways, again. The promise of later still hung in the air, thick like molasses.

Trying to disguise his growing frustration, Eddie let himself be dragged outside by his friends, who were always trying to find a way to make drinking games more extreme with each passing party.

He stood to the side until he grew bored again, antsy with thoughts of you, knowing you were just in his reach. When he came back inside, he froze right in front of the glass doors.

“What the fuck?”

The aggravated mumble slipped out, along with the last thread of his self-control.

Steve was finally able to corner you. He'd left behind the girls that were all over him earlier to talk to you, standing in the middle of the room. You were smiling politely as he gesticulated, likely telling you a story with the intention to impress you.

Eddie was not impressed, not in the least.

He was already making his way towards you, his feet working faster than his alcohol-addled brain, when he saw Steve reach for you, putting a hand on your arm. It was an innocent touch at first glance, just a run of his thumb over your bicep, but the drummer was getting closer, lowering his gaze.

Your expression was guarded, but you were caught by surprise when Eddie reached you. Eyes widened as you caught his tight, forced smile, already putting one hand on the small of your back.

“Harrington! Steve, buddy. Do you mind if I steal Miss Y/L/N here for a moment?” He said, already pulling you away. He'd be damned if he waited another second. “I need to discuss some last minute details about the next show.”

“C’mon, man! We're in the middle of a party. Work can wait.” Steve argued, trying to get you back.

“Can't argue with a creative genius. Sorry, Steve!” You chimed in, allowing yourself to be led in the direction of the stairs.

Eddie could tell you were trying not to laugh as he guided up the stairs and through the hall, filled with people too high to notice the two of you, and another couple practically fucking against the wall next to one of the bedrooms. He pulled you in the first bathroom, but not before taking the bandana off his pocket and tying it around the golden door handle.

Busy. Please, do not disturb.

As soon as the door was locked, he pressed you against it, needing to feel your body against his. “What was that, Eddie?”

His hand went to the back of your neck, eyes blazing, set on your face. “I can't fucking stand it when he thinks he can get close to you.” Lips lower to touch the sensitive skin of your neck, delivering rough kisses, raising goosebumps all over your body. “Put his hand on you. You're mine.”

Between a heavy sigh, you whine. “He doesn't know, baby.”

“I don't care.” He was doing too much at once, but it's not enough. His hands were everywhere — on your waist, down to your hips, under the swell of your breasts, wandering over the soft fabric of your dress. His mouth abused your neck and collarbones, leaving his mark behind with tongue and teeth. “I’ll tell him. Let’im know you're taken.”

“Yeah? Gonna tell him I'm all yours?” Eddie lifts his head to meet your gaze, and he's faced with the little smirk growing on your lips. “Tell him you own me?”

He knew you were teasing him, but he was not in the mood for that. “Goddamn right, I do.”

You're given a bruising kiss, then. Full of meaning. It says mine, mine, mine. Your mouths moved frantically, your lips sucking on his tongue, his teeth sinking on your bottom lip. Pushing and pulling and taking.

One of the hands that were on your waist traveled up to your chin, pulling your mouth away from his, and replacing it with two of his fingers, which you take willingly, spreading your pretty lips open for him. “Suck,” he ordered.

Without breaking eye contact, you sucked on his fingers, making a show out of it, narrowing your cheeks and lavishing them with your eager tongue, making him throb in his tight jeans. His other hand lifted your dress up to your waist, and lowered your panties to rest down the curve of your ass, just enough for him to feel you with his now spit slick fingers.

He found you soaked. “You like this, don't ya? You like it when I tell you you're mine, baby?”

It was hard for you to answer with those thick fingers filling your dripping cunt, up to his ringed knuckles. You clenched around him and tried to grind yourself on him, wanting more. “I like being yours.”

“My girl.” He purred into your cheek, kissing you again. Taking no time warming you up, because he knew you could take him, he moved his fingers with precision, relishing in the wet sounds that you made just for him while you worked on his belt and zipper, pulling his jeans down.

Eddie made quick work of the rest, asking you to jump when he grabbed your ass and lifted you up to wrap your legs around his narrow hips. He didn't waste a second longer, pushing his cock inside you, letting out a long exhale as he bottomed out.

“Move, Eds, please.” You tried to push him impossibly closer, boots digging into his lower back. “I need you.”

“I'm here, baby. I've got you.”

He let all he was feeling out in his thrusts. His frustrations, the longing he felt being separated from you, his need to possess you. To make you his, even though you already were. He slammed your body into the door behind you, shaking it with the way he was drilling his cock into your needy pussy, sucking him in.

As he did that, he thought about how the entire corridor must be hearing you. The noise the door was making, your perfect, loud moans over the music that was already lowered downstairs. He reveled in it, grasping and grunting while he pounded you into next week.

“That's it, honey. Let them hear.” He ran his mouth, already feeling that familiar pull on his heavy balls, slapping your ass with each stroke. You weren't that far behind him how you were creaming all over him, dripping down his thighs, digging your nails on his back. “Scream for me. Let them know who's fucking you this good.”

“Eddie!” It took another grind of his hips against your swollen clit to push you over the edge, gripping tight as you came. He buried his head on your neck as he chased his own high, delivering a brutal pace that was surely to leave you bruised the next day.

Neither of you cared. They were just another reminder of who you belonged to.

Your boyfriend almost crushed you to the surface of the door when he came, holding you tight to him as he caught his breath. You clung to each other — Eddie kissing every spot of you he could find, and you with your hand buried in his wild hair, running your fingers over his scalp.

When everything went still, he breathed you in, taking in your scent, feeling your pulse under your heated skin. Finally in his arms, wrapped all around him.

“I wasn't going to let him do anything, you know that, don't you?” You murmured. “I only want you.”

“I know, baby.” He smiles softly, meeting your eyes. “I'm the one who needed a reminder.”

“I think we reminded the whole house.”

You were telling that more to yourself than to him, and he knew how shy you were. “Here's what we're gonna do,” he reassured you, “you're gonna leave first, I'll follow you outside, and we can have my apartment all to ourselves all night. How does that sound?” He finished his proposal with a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect.”

[taintandviolent]

In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth. (Kyle Spencer x Reader)

summary: zombies eat brains... not pussies. WRONG. they actually eat them really well. 2.9K words!

warnings: 18+ below the cut!! smut (female receiveing), heavy heavy cunnilingus, s*xual guiding/coaching, praise (male receiving), carnal instincts, unga bunga brain Frankenkyle because it’s a serious problem I have, uhhhhhhh.

tags: @darlingjimmy @petersevans @kaiju-superstar @redwoodghost @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @iluwmycats @kai-slut @kaissweetlamb @twinkiemaximoff @evanpetersfansblog @spill-the-t @eventually27 @stucktothetwo @kai-andersons-blog @kai-anderson-whore @evansb1tch @viharmonscorner @yesdevineruler @anonymous0316 @enchanting-evan @fuckedbykai @nova-kayne67

ao3 link here! Full link below the cut!! Thank you to @redwoodghost​ and @kaiju-superstar​ for yet AGAIN beta-reading and sending me to the clouds.

“Mmmph….”

Three days earlier.

After a series of life altering events, you’d finally thrown your hands up and run away from home. The destination? Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, located in the mysterious city of New Orleans. As you rode the bus, one backpack stuffed with clothes and jewellery clutched tightly to your chest like a child, vibrant images of vampires, witches and voodoo danced in your dreams.

You saw yourself as a plain Jane who had been a little too influenced by the occult at a young age. A typical girl who had grown up on Stevie Nicks and tarot cards, you had never considered yourself particularly remarkable, though you’d always had a knack for making things happen a little too easily. Teachers and parents had always described you as an influential young woman — a deceptive umbrella term that hardly scratched the surface. You weren’t writing persuasive essays or excelling in Speech and Debate, you were sticking your fingers into someone’s mind like playdoh and rewiring it to do exactly what you wanted.

It was that deceptive umbrella term that brought you to Louisiana to begin with; you’d felt unheard, unseen, and misunderstood. You were struggling and nobody had the capacity to unravel your problems.

Cordelia, who was easily one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, welcomed you into her office. The interview was brief but compassionate. She’d asked you to explain what brought you to her home, what you felt your “powers” were, and reached to touch the top of your hand when you struggled with that word. She lingered, staring deeply at your fingers. After a moment, she inhaled and spoke again.

“Nothing is silly here. You’re safe. Everything you’ve thought was make-believe or… or childish isn’t. The world runs on magic.”

Cordelia had called one of the other girls into her office and given you an encouraging nod. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, had jet black hair, and large glasses. She looked deeply frightened and you almost felt bad when you made her crawl on the floor like a crab before standing up and clapping excitedly. It took very little effort for you, Cordelia noted and wrote something on a piece of paper in your file.

Whatever you’d done, you’d done it correctly. Shortly after that, a girl named Zoe showed you to your new room. She was sweet, kind — the sort of woman that you thought would listen to every side of every story before making any judgements. She used to be a student witch here, she explained as you two walked, but she'd risen in the ranks and become so busy with being the Council — something very important, a hierarchy of witches — that she didn’t have time for the things she used to focus on.  

Zoe opened the tall door, letting you step in first. Well-lit by the large and ornately trimmed windows, the room was white, matching the scheme of the rest of the mansion. Sparsely decorated, there were the necessities in terms of furniture and nothing else. There were two beds at opposite sides of the room… and a blonde boy sat cross-legged on the one closest to the door. His expression was blank, but his brows were laced together, conveying some sort of unknown sadness.

“This is Kyle. He…” she trailed off, her voice sounding unsteady. “He died. Madison and I, we… we put him back together and brought him back.”

You snapped your head to face her, jaw hanging slack in disbelief. “Put him back together? Like Frankenstein?”

Zoe nodded, and reached out to stroke his fluffy blonde curls. While he remained stoic, you noticed the tiniest flinch in his cheek muscles. The way she looked at him… you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. There was history here. “He’s not the same. He tries though.”

She straightened out her frown, visibly trying to move on from the memories.

“This used to be my room. But…” She dropped her hand to her side. He flinched more visibly. “It’s yours now.”

Zoe had told you that all Kyle needed was macaroni, kid’s shows on YouTube, and he wouldn’t bother you. For the first night, you conceded with those recommendations because his outbursts overwhelmed you.

On the second night, you woke up to the sound of rustling. Kyle sat upright in his bed, sheets draped over his lap, staring towards the window. You sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to your chest. He turned to look at you and shrunk away from your gaze, ashamed. He quickly returned to a lying position, like a child who had gotten yelled at. The apprehension you possessed on the first night had morphed into wonderment. A reanimated boy, who despite being pieced together still had some semblance of sentience and emotion. It may have been cliche to analyze it through a Shelley-esque eye… but with sentience, came love. And with love, agony was sure to follow. You’d always been particularly enraptured with the idea of a monster needing love, trying desperately to understand it.

A line from Frankenstein came to mind as you watched him staring straight up at the ceiling, hoping you wouldn’t notice he wasn’t asleep. “I have a love in me the likes of which can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

So… what if you satisfied the first? Perhaps all he needed was some tenderness, some attentiveness.  

“Kyle?”

No response. You swung your legs out from underneath the covers, planting your bare feet on the wooden floors. In only your nightgown, the chill of the air bit at your exposed limbs, prompting you to slip your arms into the lacy, green sleeves of your robe.

“Kyle? You wanna look at the moon?”

This time, he turned his head on the pillow to look at you. You began moving carefully towards him.

“You want to? The moon?” You asked again, making a circle shape with your hands and then unrolling them to point towards the window. He nodded, showing understanding. Clumsily, he threw the covers off him and got to his feet.

You took one step. He followed, ambling heavily behind you until you both stood close enough to the window to feel the chill that permeated the glass. He sighed heavily, the sound resonating in his broad chest. It was the first time you’d heard any sort of happy sound from him. His knuckles brushed against yours, but despite the quivering in your abdomen, you didn’t reach out to hold his hand. You wanted to, though. Very, very much.

On the third night, you woke up to the sounds.

“Mmmmmph! Mmm…arrr…. Mmmm…. ow.”

You rubbed your eyes, rousing yourself. Instead of being in his own bed, like he usually was, Kyle sat at the foot of yours, his legs pulled to his chest. “What? What’s wrong?”

He grunted again, scooting closer to you on the bed. Although the room was dark, the small night light in the corner illuminated just enough of his face to show the pained expression, the stress in his dark eyes.

“Kyle? What’s the matter? Try…” You whispered. “Are you hurt?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. “Hmmmph… I’m……”

“You’re what? What is it?”

He struggled to speak, but what did come out sounded distinctly like your own name.

Kyle’s head dropped heavily to his chest, shamefully looking down at his erection as it tented his boxers. He lifted his eyes, staring at you from underneath his heavy brow and fluffy locks. Both hands clenched into fists, he pressed down into his groin, moaning.

Oh…. Oh fuck, you thought. Oh my fucking god, he’s got a boner.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of… it’s normal. O-kay.”

Poor thing. He doesn’t know what to do…. He’s asking for help. He looked into your eyes with the most soulful, desperate pleading you’d ever seen. No man, even more together than him, had ever asked you for help like this. There was something underneath, another stain on his heart. You could feel it when your eyes locked for a second too long — but that wasn’t important. It didn’t change what you were about to do.

You fingered the ruched elastic of his boxers, scooping it towards you. The taut skin of his stomach was warm, and the heat increased as you neared the bush of hair. Kyle groaned and cloddishly bucked his hips to force your hand farther down. The searing hot tip slipped against the back of your hand, leaving a streak of precum on your skin.

“P……l…eaaasse…..” His chest was heaving up and down, forcing excited little breaths out of his open mouth.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gripped his cock gently. It twitched against your hand and you felt another hot, viscid ribbon coat your knuckles. Oh fuck. He jerked his hips again as you began stroking, smearing his wetness along the shaft. He slackened the muscles in his neck, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Good? Does that feel better?”

His head moved on you, up and down, so you assumed it did. You decided to test it by going a little faster, and squeezing his cock a little harder. Instead of the guttural, almost pained groans  he’d given you before, the most pathetic little whimper left his throat. You lifted your gaze to the ceiling, rolling your eyes back. He was putty in your grip, begging for you with every muscle in his body. And that… drove you insane.

Carefully, quietly… you reached to your legs, gathering the edge of your nightgown into your palm, pulling it up your thigh until you had enough room to reach your own arousal. Wasting no time, you circled your clit slowly, slipping a finger inside between rotations.

“AAAAAGUHHH!”

You clapped your hand over Kyle’s mouth, eyes widening like saucers in the dark. You whispered louder than you ever had in your entire life. “Shhh! Kyle! Shhh!” He breathed hard out his nose. “I can’t help you if you’re loud… they’ll hear you.”

Underneath your fingers, Kyle’s plush lips parted just enough for you to notice. You froze. He looked down as far as his ocular anatomy allowed and his pupils dilated, the blackness consuming the already deep brown. His tongue swept across the underside of your fingers before forcing itself between them. He gripped your hand tightly at the wrist and yanked it down in a startling display of his inhuman strength.

“Wuh…. Want.”

You jerked your head back, confused. “What?”

He brought your hand back up, and like a child claiming that a toy was his, Kyle licked your pointer and index finger from the base to the tip of them. He swallowed.

“Waant….”

Holy shit. You realised. You realised what it was he wanted…. The hand you’d used to cover his mouth was that hand that you’d previously been fingering yourself with, the fingers that were coated in your own wetness. He wanted… that.

Nervously, you pulled your hand from his boxers, the elastic snapping against his tummy. You nodded once and inhaled a deep breath through your nose, a feeble attempt at pacifying the bundle of live wires you called your nerves. Kyle’s eyes never left yours, watching you intently as you planted your hands on either side of your body as leverage to push yourself back towards the head of the bed. You laid back on the pillow, knees touching and obscuring Kyle.

When you opened them, your breath rushed out from your lungs. He was so pretty, the way the moonlight illuminated his curls like an angel’s halo, outlining his broad form. His plaid shirt hung open, teasing at the body beneath. And then, of course, there was the erection. The fabric of his boxers were pulled tight.

You tilted your head down, pressing your chin against your chest. Your eyes were misty, doe-like, and you almost stuck your fingers in his mind to tell him to come to you. But he did it on his own accord and your heart gave an adoring flutter. Coming forward onto his hands, Kyle crawled on the bed to you, and you welcomed him in between your thighs. He lowered himself down onto his stomach.

“Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, Kyle…”

Kyle opened his mouth on your pussy, lapping at it hungrily. The smoothness of his teeth grazed your clit, and the heat of your arousal was unimaginable, burning deep within your core. You’d been eaten out, but not eaten out. Not like this. Zombies ate brains, not pussies.

And yet… you were being devoured within an inch of your life. Every clench brought out more cum, and Kyle was there to drink it up, flicking his tongue from your entrance to your clit repeatedly, until your vision went blurry with twinkling stars. Every time his tongue returned to its starting position, he always lingered and sometimes slipped in, delving into something he wanted more of. He was tasting you over and over again. Your mouth opened, at first giving nothing but the sound of your breath. His lips closed around your clit, his tongue driving up into your entrance, and a high pitched whine clawed its way out of your throat.

And just like that, the pleasure was gone. Kyle pulled away, panicked.

“Bad?!”  

You shook your head quickly, panting. “No, no…. Good. Very good, Kyle.”

His worried expression softened slightly, but he still looked unsure and scared to keep going. The sound you’d made… all he knew told him it was that he’d done something wrong and he’d hurt you.

“B….buh….. bad…… sssssound…..”

“Nonononono. Very… very good. I made that sound because it feels good. You’re doing a good job.”

He huffed out a breath, the warmth of it washing over you. You writhed, the backs of your thighs rubbing against his bare shoulders. Bent at the elbows, Kyle wrapped his forearms around your legs, wide hands twitching ever so slightly as they caressed you. There was something overwhelmingly erotic in the way he fearfully looked up at you from between your legs. You drew your bottom lip in, biting down as hard as you could to stifle the moan that threatened.

“Please,” you whined. “You’re doing so good, Kyle. It feels so good. You like it, right?”

He nodded, dropping his gaze to look at your cunt, a puddle forming on sheets below. His jaw hung slack as he went back in, his lips enveloping you fully. His tongue was hot and you were sensitive, writhing in his grip. You weren’t aware that you were writhing away from him until his fingers came to life, digging deep into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You arched your back as you came on his tongue, taking fistfuls of the sheets and tightening until you felt the fibres squeak against each other. Kyle growled into your cunt, pulling you closer into him. His tongue flattening against you, feeling the pulsating clenches as they happened.

Kyle straightened up to his knees, stiffly pulling his boxers down over the curve of his ass. His stiff cock sprung free, the swollen head, red and leaking. He seemed to know what he wanted to do, but didn’t know where to start. You scooted down, pressing your legs further open. Kyle shuffled forward on the bed, the springs creaking underneath you.

“It’s okay, Kyle… it’s okay.” Keeping your eyes on him, you took hold of his cock again and gently guided it towards your wet slit. “I’ll make you feel better.”

He allowed himself to be guided, following your direction. His squishy tip slipped in, compressed by your tight walls. The sound that Kyle made — something between a choking breath and a groan — was the only warning you got that a switch had flipped. He knew exactly what to do.

Kyle sunk his length into you, taking only a moment to revel in the feeling of your warm, wet insides. He quickly found his rhythm, bucking in and out with steady intention as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, mouth hanging slack. His pelvis slapped against yours, knocking against your clit each time your bodies met. The visual drove you insane, sending streaks of hot arousal right to your core.

“Gggoooooodddd….” He groaned. “G-good.”

He picked up speed, and you desperately tried to maintain coherency, nodding. Your nails dug into his back, holding on as tight as you could. “Guh-HOHm- my god. Good, yes. G-good, baby.”

Kyle’s large hands snaked their way to your shoulders, encasing them in a steely grip. He pulled himself into you, harder and harder until you felt an unfamiliar ache in your insides, where he could go no farther. You came for a second time with a high-pitched whimper and Kyle kept his pace, grunting. Your wetness splashed against your thighs as he thrust into you, and when you lifted your hips up slightly, Kyle’s fingers curled in, clamping down on your shoulders with a crushing strength. You held back your cries of pain, grinding your hips against his as he pumped into you. Just hold on… let him finish….  

Finally, he released his hold on you, collapsing onto your chest with a heavy breath. Once the vigorous movement had subsided, your sweat-soaked bodies were no longer immune to the lithe, chilly fingers of temperature. Still, you were warm underneath him.

So, so warm.

Kyle fell asleep with his cock inside you. And for the first time in three nights, he didn’t wake up once.

[setsugekka]

❥bad idea (m)

↳ stuck in a vacation home with nobody but the most annoying man in your friend group, there’s not a lot offered to help take the edge off.

a couple of glasses of wine and a crazy idea might, though.

lee minho x fem!reader — enemies to lovers (kinda), explicit sexual content. [3.6k wc] cws: alcohol consumption. sexual cws: penetrative sex (unprotected), oral sex (m), facial, hair pulling, hatefuck (hardly cuz he’s kinda sweet), praise, dirty talk.

The saying is that “bad things come in threes.”

So, when your bus arrives and leaves all of five minutes before you get there, forcing you to rebook a ticket and wait an hour and a half in the cold, windy weather for the next — that’s one. At the time, not something you spend much thought on, it happens.

And when your friend calls you to inform you that the weather is so bad coming from her side of town that she and the car load of friends meant to accompany you at the rental home for the weekend getaway won’t be arriving until some time tomorrow morning — there’s the second. It’s not the end of the world, you think to yourself, as she explains that she’s already contacted the rental host and changed the name of the reservation into yours so that you’re able to get inside safe and sound — after all, there are worse things than having a whole, lavish, five bedroom, three bathroom house to yourself for a night.

The ‘worse things,’ of course, being the third and final 'bad,’ as it were — hauling your bags up the brown and grey cobble stone walkway and close enough to the front porch for the motion sensor lights to finally illuminate — frankly, you’d have been happier to find a stranger, and you’re already wondering if there are any axe murderers mulling about these parts that you could contact straight away, perhaps their schedules are free and could do you a solid.

“Not you—“

You’re unsurprised that he’s the first to speak, and to say something irritating at that. Hair slightly damp and windswept, it looks as though he’s been standing out in the elements and against the door for far too long — a thought that brings you much delight; the misery of one Lee Minho.

It’s not that he’s ever done anything particularly wrong, not to you, or to your other friends, which is why he remains inside of the friend group, but some people simply don’t click, and the two of you are certainly evidence of that — between snide remarks in relation to any innocent going on, and Minho’s insistence on having something to say about everything you say or do, the last person you’d have wanted to meet here tonight without the buffer of the other handful of people, was him.

But here he is.

Slinging a bag up and over your shoulder with a huff, you toss the keys to the front door at him with a tad bit of aggression — the act brings a curl to one side of his mouth, as if enjoying the annoyance he’s already brought into your life.

“Didn’t know anyone else was here, I just got off the phone with them, won’t be in until tomorrow.”

“Bummer,” Minho sighs, turning the key into the lock and pressing the door open at the clicking sound. “Guess you’ll just have to make me dinner tonight, then.”

“Stooping down to sexism now, are we? Ol’ run of the mill being an annoyance not enough for you anymore?” you chime out as you walk past him and inside, kicking your shoes off and carrying forward with your belongings.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you being a woman, you psycho,” he rings back. “You’re the only other person here. Other people can make me dinner, too.”

“I’m sure they’re all fighting for the chance to.”

“Anyway,” Minho ignores you to instead toss his things to the closest doorway that appears to lead into a bedroom. “We do have to eat.”

“And I will, mind your business,” you answer, voice now echoing down the hall and throughout the otherwise empty home — tall ceilings carrying the sound much further than it would otherwise. you find a room that seems suitable enough despite them all appearing more or less the same and chuck your bag onto the bed inside before coming back out and resting eyes on the bizarre sight before you now. “You’re not going to look at the other rooms?”

“They’re all just empty rooms with beds what difference does it make — now who’s not minding their business!”

Rolling your eyes, you opt out of giving him any more of your verbal time, stepping towards and into the open layout kitchen — a lavish display that no doubt has cost millions in the renovations, you jostle open the refrigerator door in hopes to find something that may sustain you as far as intake goes — original plan having been that as a group you would all head back into town and go grocery shopping, but with that now off the table, it’s up to you and Minho to figure it out until morning.

Glancing back towards Minho’s poorly chosen bedroom, you watch him unpack boring t-shirts and clear, plastic bags of skincare items. You think to yourself how annoying to find it, before immediately following up the line of thought with how completely normal it is and that you only find it annoying because it’s him.

But self-awareness if half of the battle, after all.

“They got cheese, some condiments—“ you look around yourself again in an attempt to locate more items that might allow for you to put together an actually reasonable food source as you talk through it. “—Some bread it looks like, some deli meats…I mean, assuming all of this is still good I think we can at least get by on some dinner sandwiches.”

Minho doesn’t answer back, something else you find irritating. You’re talking to him, after all.

Then, your eyes lock onto something else hidden further back into the cold and mostly empty container. “Oh, looks like there’s a bottle of cheap white wine in here, too. There’s that.”

“Finally, some good news!” Minho finally replies. Of course, it’s the alcohol that does it.

When “dinner” concludes, the two of you shake on trying to be normal human beings to one another for the remainder of the evening, even going as far as to exchange a few testing chuckles over half eaten sandwiches.

But with the last bit of wine poured into both of your glasses, and downed just as quickly as it had appeared there, that’s when the real trouble starts.

Naturally.

A bottle between two, hardly enough to get either of you drunk but enough to make the head a little fuzzy, and the people a little flirtier than usual, when Minho leans an elbow onto the table and leans in closer towards you — you don’t hate it, not as much as you might usually. Where your normal instinct would be to immediately pull back and away from him, scoff, laugh off the intrusion of personal space — now, now you find it to be borderline welcomed.

“Why are you such a bitch to me, anyway?”

Well, there goes that.

You roll your eyes right in front of him, eager to turn your head away but it’s a strong hand that cups at your chin and brings you right back to his eye sight. And again — in most cases, a man putting his hands on you in such a way would not be accepted and would likely result in a hospital trip for him and him alone, but tonight, things are a little different.

Minho is no stranger, nor is he any danger to you. He’s pretty fucking irritating at worst —

But have you considered the hatefuck? Absolutely.

“Don’t look away from me when I’m talking to you!”

The words come out of him in a chuckle, as if the both of you are well aware that this is a game and not any serious act of violence. You laugh along with him, pressing the tip of your tongue out just a bit to tease him and how upset over nothing he’s getting.

“You’re kinda handsome when you’re trying to act all tough and brooding,” you tease, tugging your face from his grip with little effort required. You watch the way Minho’s eyebrows pull upwards at the words, as if intrigued by the confession.

“Oh, is that so?” he asks, almost sing-song in manner. “Is that why you’re so mean to me? You want me so bad? Want me to fuck you into this dining room table? Will that fix you?”

Minho is already standing up next to you and unbuckling his belt — it’s obviously a humorous display, the two of you bantering and joking about, but you’d be lying if the thought wasn’t running through your mind currently, now that he’s put it out there.

Is that an option?

“Why would we fuck on the table? There’s plenty of beds in here,” you reply dryly, now testing how far you can flirt with this idea before he rescinds it. Or you get dicked down into next Tuesday, either/or.

And you watch as Minho stills finally, perhaps much slower on the uptake than you would have ever expected him to be. Busy hands that once playfully tugged at his belt and pant button now pausing at the realization that you might actually be coming onto him, and not simply playing with him to pass the time. Eyes dropping down to meet yours as you stare up at him, still seated at the table next to — it’s that familiar curl of the the lip once again, devilish and sly — that let’s you know he’s finally getting what you’re serving.

“Get up.”

The words come out sort of quietly, a little under his breath, as if also testing the waters of the situation — a demand that the both of you are aware of not having to go along with, that you can simply tell him 'no’ and it calls off everything that has otherwise been built up towards this moment.

But instead, you choose to do as told, and just as quickly Minho wraps a hand around your arm and yanks you out of the kitchen and down the hall — towards a bedroom, any bedroom.

Finally settling on one based on what you can only assume to be pure luck, it’s just as quickly that Minho has your back flush against it with teeth and lips hard against your own — it’s aggressive, a little rough — perhaps filled with years of pining that otherwise only found an outlet in being petty and childish towards you in the most ridiculous, unnecessary, ways.

But for now, who cares?

“Can you at least get me into the bedroom?” you ask between energetic kisses, the request brings him to grin into your mouth.

“Of course, darling, how rude of me,” you feel him reach down and behind you for the doorknob, twisting and pushing it as the both of you fall towards the newly emptied space behind you. “Well would you look at that — there’s only one bed, what will we do now?”

You can hear in his voice that it’s a sarcastic reference to the popular trope, because quite obviously given the circumstances, one bed is plenty for the activities that you’re about to engage in — but taking it a step further, Minho presses a hand to the back of your neck and urges you towards the edge of the bed, bending you onto your knees and over the side of it. “Any other fun little tropes we can play with tonight?”

“You want to roleplay on our first time?” you laugh, finding the idea of it a little endearing.

“If you want me to fuck you missionary with the lights off I’m more than happy to oblige that, as well.”

“Yuck,” you answer quickly. “Enemies to lovers? Seems apt.”

You can’t see his face given your position, but you can hear it in the way his oh sounds out, as if you’re a total genius and it’s the best idea he’s ever heard in his entire life. Squeezing ever so slightly onto the back of your neck, Minho leans down and over your back towards your ear. “So, you want me to hatefuck you then?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

The juxtaposition in relation to the negotiation of terms, as it were, and the sex you’re hoping to engage in that evening making you laugh a bit internally, it’s not long at all before Minho flips you over and onto your back, roughly pulling at the button of your pants and wasting no time pulling the fabric down your legs — tossing it aside and remembering that his own pants remain long undone from the joking just earlier in the kitchen, you watch as he palms himself through his boxer briefs as he allows his jeans to drop further down and expose more of himself to you — eyes lidded and heavy with lust, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he might actually hate you in that moment.

And in spite of everything, you truly do feel safe with him. Besides, if anything goes wrong he’ll be a dead man in the morning, anyways.

“Anything I can’t do, like, in particular?” he asks suddenly, still lazily touching himself for your viewing pleasure as you hastily take the moment to pull your shirt up and over your head.

“Umm, don’t hit me, don’t call me mean names—“

“Holy shit, I wouldn’t do that if you asked me to, this is the first time we’re having sex!”

“Okay well you asked! I don’t know!

“Alright lemmie think,” Minho says, finally pulling his length out from it’s confines. You sit up upon it’s reveal, already wanting to put your mouth on him before he even requests it. “Suck me off? I’ll think of some stuff…hopefully.”

But you’re already up and with an eager hand wrapped around him, gently pumping him just in front of your face as he gazes down at the sight — tongue out and pressed to the underside of him, Minho’s eyes roll back only to pull tightly shut at the feeling of your hot mouth enveloping him whole.

“God, okay, can I cum on your face?”

You pull off only long enough to answer. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, sold. God, it’s kind of hard to hate you when you’ve got your mouth on my dick like that.”

And so you pull off of him entirely, lying back down again and with legs spread wide, as if presenting yourself for him to fuck. “Then, fuck me like you’re mad that I don’t anymore.”

“Fuck,” he says suddenly, looking around the room as if for something but quite evidently not going to find what it was that he would be looking for. “I don’t have condoms.”

“I don’t care, oh my God, just fuck me already.”

“Are you sure?”

Darting a hand up and into his t-shirt finally to bring him down and on top of you, it’s no time wasted between his hands catching himself on the mattress just next to your head and you reaching down to rub his cock again, pressing the tip of him against your pussy as if to entice him even further — insist that he stop thinking and talking and start fucking.

“Are you gonna fuck me or are you gonna continue being as worthless as I always thought you were?”

What you didn’t expect, was for it to be that easy. Minho’s hand sliding up the bed and entangling into your hair, a hard grip into your scalp as he takes it upon himself to press his hips forward and bury his thick cock into you — it’s not all in one fluid motion, two, three shallow pushes and pulls before he’s completely and fully inside of you but he gives you little time to adjust to accommodate his girth before he’s rocking against the apex of your thighs — teeth gritted and head dropping down into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck — it’s the groans and growls escaping him that really do a number on your want for him, paired of course with the intense drag of him against your unprepared walls.

“Feel worthless now?” he asks against the skin of your neck before latching teeth there, biting and sucking into the skin with intent to leave bruises. Whimpers and moans falling from your own mouth at the feeling, along with the intensity in which his pounding into you grows — your throat feels dry, words caught somewhere in between their origin and destination at the question. “Can’t even talk, like my cock that much? You wanted it all this time that’s why you’re like that?”

You decide to play along, nodding as much as his grip into your hair permits as he chuckles against the skin at the admission. “Why don’t you be good for me and rub yourself off a bit, if you come pretty enough on my cock I’ll consider painting your face with mine.”

And you’ve always known Minho’s had a mouth on him, that much is no surprise, but this filthy is coming as quite one, and in the best kind of way — the words immediately pooling between your legs, walls firmly closing in against him as he fucks you hard, fast and with intent.

Minho pulls up and off your body, letting free your hair and allowing you the range of motion to bring a hand down between the both of you to circle fingers into your clit as he settles on his knees — hands bracing on your waist as he fucks you further — less momentum in his hips and more in his arms as he effectively pulls your body down and onto his cock, you have full view of the way the veins and muscles in his arms flex and move with every motion — the way his eyes lock onto the exact place where he disappears into your cunt repeatedly for extended periods of time, before eventually looking back up and making eye contact with you in a sort of way that almost silently asks if everything is still going okay on your end, but with orgasm threatening you, you couldn’t answer him verbally right away had you even tried.

“Look so pretty, like touching yourself with my dick in you?”

You nod pathetically, the dirty talk still doing you in just as before and the familiar quake of your thighs sneaking up on you.

“Yeah, I can feel it, bet this isn’t the first time you’re going to come to me, either.”

Good guess.

“F-fuck, Minho, I'm—“

“Close?” he asks, but it’s less in character than before, as if genuinely concerned about being able to get you over the edge. You nod again.

“Don’t stop, please, please, don't—“

Taking the command, he carries on and into you, shutting up long enough to focus on the task at hand as he watches your body tighten and shake beneath him with the promise of release — it doesn’t take you much longer to get there, either — teeth and eyes clenched together hard as your orgasm rips through you.

“Yeah baby, yeah come for me, you sound perfect—“

But you’re barely even able to process the words before Minho pulls out of you suddenly — and probably too close for comfort, but given his desire to fuck you through your own orgasm as much as possible taking it upon himself to trust his own judgment — you feel a familiar hand dipping down and into your hair again, pulling you into a sitting position at the end of it with Minho fisting his cock fast and just in front of your face. Jaw hanging slack and tongue out, you take the tip of him — wet with you and precum between your lips as you gaze up at him.

“So obsessed with having my cock all this time, could have just asked, but I’ll give you what you deserve, you earned it.”

He barely gets the whole sentence out before he’s pulling from your mouth and groaning loud into the first rope of cum that empties from him and onto your face — your thankful for the choice to have your eyes closed as the feeling of warm, wetness splashes across your eye and cheek, followed by another, strong string, and slowly finished by the gentle pooling of his cum against your lips and chin as he drags his cock across your skin to make a mess of the job already done.

Chest heaving, you open your one available eye to watch Minho as he slings his t-shirt off, bringing it to your face and gently attempting to wipe away the mess he only just made there. You giggle at him, appreciating it but shortly thereafter taking the fabric into your own hands to do the job yourself.

Kneeling down in front of you, the man looks at you from between your knees and with bright, wide eyes — like a puppy dog expecting praise for doing a good job. “So? How was it?”

“You’re kind of a lousy hatefuck, I’ll be honest,” you laugh, handing him back his cum-soaked shirt and realizing you’ll have to elaborate based on his dropping expression. “What I mean is, you were kind of nice about it, don’t you think? The praise?”

Minho scoffs, but in a way that you know that he knows that what you’re saying is the truth, coyly crossing his arms over his now bare chest and huffing as he makes a display of looking away from you. “It’s the first time and we barely got to discuss anything! What am I supposed to do? Put you in a choke hold and call you a slut? You said no mean names!”

Thinking about it for a moment, you figure he’s probably right, and it generally best to err on the side of caution, but it certainly does present itself to a flurry of other potentials in the future.

“Well, we’ve got all night.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[aliferous-ly]

ranchers au of the story of a woman who'll marry whoever can get the key off her cats neck

except it's tango, who is a magician of sorts so he's highly sought after, so he comes up with this test of whoever can get the key he'll marry. people start setting traps and whatnot. most of them tango avoids with ease, but he gets caught in one. depressed, he waits for the inevitable downfall.

only, the person who finds him isnt the one who set the trap. a man finds him, and, aghast at the sight, let's tango go. later in town as jimmy recounts this happenstance everyone around him angrily tells him off because he's squandered this perfect opportunity, and this is how Jimmy finds out about the contest.

he thinks the contest is rather upsetting, because how could someone set the whole town against a poor cat like that?

jimmy takes it upon himself to take care of the cat. he listens as people brag about traps so he can find them and dismantle them. he leaves food and fresh water out when he can, and sets up a small shelter for when it rains. he can't imagine that the cat will use it, with it looking so obviously like a trap, but he sets it up anyway.

he gets a rather negative reputation in town because of this. but instead of backing down, jimmy instead snaps back about what kind of person tango must be, to pit the whole town against an innocent animal! because of the pushback from the townspeople he gets rather righteous about his position.

his opinion is cemented further as the cat slowly learns to trust him. sometimes Jimmy rants to the cat about his neglectful and cruel owner.

time passes. many people in town give up on their endeavors. they set traps, but can't afford to check them frequently. they're too busy working. jimmy gains the cats trust and the cat hides in the shelter he built it. eventually, the cat even walks into his home.

jimmy all but adopts this cat, at this point. he feeds it, cares for it, makes sure it's safe during storms and warm on cold nights. the cat hangs around him all the time, the key dangling from its neck. it's startling, the first time the cat jumps on his lap, but jimmy rewards this trust with lots of pets and nothing else.

the cat grows bolder. it bumps it's forehead against jimmy's hand, curls up on jimmy's lap, and yowls for food at the crack of dawn. it leaves the house but never for longer than a day, always returning with an expectant gaze.

Jimmy tries to ignore the key but he grows restless. this tango guy hasn't even asked about his cat, and Jimmy's been caring for it for ages! He knows the key is to tangos house and is only for the winning suitor, but after the weather turns cold and jimmy despairs about how the cat would survive in such extreme weather without help, he takes the key and stomps up to tangos house to give him a piece of his mind.

it's a long, winding path. The cat follows him the whole way, which is odd, since the cat usually only follows Jimmy when he's safe at home. jimmy reaches the house and he knocks first, he has manners, but after no answer he unlocks it and storms in.

only, the whole place is empty. it's clean, someone clearly lives here, but there's nobody home. jimmy deflates. the cat jumps on a large cushioned chair and stares at him.

jimmy slumps over to the cat and pets it, mumbling about what to do next. he does one final sweep of the house (in jimmy's opinion, if tango wanted privacy he wouldnt have put his key on a cat!). and when he turns back to the cat, hands on his hips and ready to announce failure, his cat isn't... there. in it's place is a man with fiery red hair and a smirk firmly upon his lips.

jimmy has his moments of foolishness but he's not dense. he makes the connection. he realizes, and gapes at the man -- at tango, who's been the cat all along.

tango teases him about marriage and jimmy flusters. the two of them finally get to know each other outside of the contest and tango is firm in his reward, announcing it to the townspeople (many of which are furious at Jimmy, loudest anti-tango spokesman around, being the winner).

and jimmy and tango fall in love and live happily ever after the end.

and yes, jimmy is incredibly embarrassed about unknowingly insulting tango to his face. tango, for his part, found it hilarious and it actually endeared him to jimmy, since jimmy was so furious on the cat's behalf.

[spooky-bunnys]

Title: The (Last Name)'s

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Sebastian x M.R x Sam

Warnings: None

Everything was normal in Pelican Town. Well, until the new farmer moved into Pelican Town. Everyone was confused on why someone from the big city would move to their small town. Especially considering someone people wanted to leave the small town to the big city! They just didn't understand why.

Until they met the new farmer that is. According to Robin, the new farmer was Old (Last Name)'s grandson who had gotten tired of the big city, and wanted to finally wanted to settle down away from the nose and people. Everyone had many expectations and thoughts on how the new farmer would be. Although they were pleasantly surprised when they finally met him.

It didn't take long for (Name) to quickly become the biggest bachelor of Pelican Town. Everyone who was single wanted to be with (Name). They loved how sweet, generous, kind-hearted, and over all his bubbly and helpful personality quickly mad him the town favorite. (Name) was always willing to lend a helping hand to whoever needed it.

He even helped remodel the Pelican Town Community Center. Which ultimately sent the Joja Company packing. Saving Pierre's business from Bankruptcy. He also helped Willy fix his boat, that originally belonged to Willy's grandfather. So you can imagine how happy he was when it was fixed.

Since the boat was fixed the people of Pelican Town was even able to start going to Ginger Island. Where (Name) found the sweetest little boy. That he later adopted with the permission and help of Mayor Louis. When Leo was comfortable enough he moved into (Name)'s farm house.

Although he had a tree house beside Linus's tent in the mountains. Leo also visited the Island some days. Luckily due to all the hard work, (Name) also has a farm and house on the Island. So they went to the Island quite often together.

Something nobody expected was for Sebastian and Sam to end up with the new farmer. It came to a huge surprise to the town people when the trouple got together. They had seen (Name) was close to them, but to think they were all three technically dating? It was something else honestly. They didn't mean anything bad about it.

They'd just haven't had something like this happen in Pelican Town before. But everyone saw how happy they were whenever they were all together. Especially (Name)'s best friend Abigail. She was even their best woman at their wedding. Which was honestly hard to do since you usually can't marry more then one person.

But Mayor Louis made it happen. (Name) had become something of a grandchild to Mayor Louis. Seeing how much happier Pelican Town has become thanks to (Name). He did all he could to help the boys dream to come true. The wedding was small but beautiful.

In a matter of month the new (Last Name) family had three parents and three children. Leo was extremely excited to be an older brother to a pair of twins that the trio adopted. They'd found the twins after one of the bands concerts in the city. There was a boy with blonde hair and (eye color) eyes, and a girl with (hair color) hair and brown eyes.

They were greatly surprised on how they looked like the trouple. It warmed their hearts. They thank Yoda everyday for the life they're living. Because they wouldn't change any of it for the world. Although they maybe wish Leo would stop teaching the twins how to speak bird. Becausenit was cute at first, but who wants to hear that being screamed into your ear at six in the morning.

Not them at least.

[ystrike1]

Don't Look Back, Seisia! - By danryhan (8.5/10)

A poisonous love battle, featuring a ruthless Duke who acts kind and a merciful healer with a bad reputation. They are a loving and tender couple. Their honesty is the highest charm point in their relationship. The magical poison part of the story gets kind of pointlessly complicated, but it's good.

Seisia Lidyne is an adult woman who knows her worth. Not a crying child in need of saving. At least not at first. The forces working against her have way more influence than her. There's only so much she can do with no allies and knives in her back. Her father remarried. Her younger brother is an idiot sadist. Her father only cares about his male heir, and her stepmother only cares about her reputation.

It's a powder keg that explodes whenever Seisia Lidyne dares to step outside.

Her stepmother has been using her as a scapegoat.

Seisia Lidyne is an infamous hoe. Her poor brother was tormented by her, and her countless men. That's why he's such a nasty loser. It's all her fault. The rumors are both extravagant and ridiculous but Stepmother Lidyne puts YEARS of effort into the lies.

Seisia is left friendless with no marriage prospects.

She leaves the house.

Yep.

She also doesn't care about her father at all.

She walks out the door.

Time passes, and she finds a bloody man on the ground. Seisia has healing magic. Does this make her super special? No. It's pretty rare but healers have zero offensive capabilities. She never ever revealed her powers to anyone, because she knew her scummy father would use her gift to make money.

Dian is just another man who benefits from her services.

She settles down in a village. She uses her herbal knowledge and her magic to make a modest amount of money, for herself.

It's nobody else's business.

She quickly figures out he is noble. He's too educated. His clothes are too nice, and he was badly poisoned. His fingers were actually blue. Two plus two equals four. She helps him and sends him on his way.

Seisia Lidyne has no one. No one that can be trusted. No one that she likes. Her rare hair and eye color makes her a target. The local villagers eventually realize she's a runaway noblewoman, and they want to turn her in for money. Her awful family is looking for her because they need their scapegoat.

She doesn't flirt with Dian, who is secretly a Duke with poisonous mind control magic.

He goes after her.

They are opposites in funny ways. He sticks around the village to watch her, and he notices that she's actually kind. Even when she doesn't need to be. All of the villagers gossip about her sordid past. They talk about hurting her. Selling her back to her abusers. Dian hears them all, and he wonders why she doesn't want revenge.

Dian is frustrated. His reputation is perfect. Everyone thinks he's kind, because of his manipulative magic. On the inside he's your average ruthless Duke. He's a master of poison too so...two plus two equals four...

He kills the men who want to harm her with a burning cloud of poison ash.

He thinks he wouldn't mind dying if she killed him.

Dian is a strange kind of yandere. He's happy about it. He loves being in love. He resented his mother for most of his life, because she died in a stupid way.

His mother sacrificed herself for love, even though she had a six year old son that needed her. He didn't understand her.

Seisia is kidnapped by her family, and he doesn’t hesitate.

Now he does. His love for Seisia showed him the light. His mother could not give up on her first love, even after he betrayed her. That's normal and natural. He finally feels the same way about his own love.

It gives him closure, and he can finally let the past go.

Dian uses his status to save her and marry her. He is too powerful to refuse, and Seisia is happy about it. With no allies running from her father is a pipe dream, but she can trust Dian.

She also has no choice.

Dian listens to her woes. He accepts her past. Her flaws. Her fears. He promises her the world and he wants to give it to her.

Her brother has dark magic. That's why he gets so much special treatment. He tortured her with bugs. He helped spread the rumors about her sordid affairs.

He feels no remorse either.

Seisia is so happy to talk to someone she can trust.

The "real" Dian isn't hidden away. He shares his true thoughts and feelings with her too. He has enemies he needs to dispose of. They already tried to kill him. The gloves are off.

Seisia pledges to help her husband, like a good wife.

He takes her to an endless field of flowers, where four families compete for power. Even though she's a healer it's a struggle for her to get used to all the poison in the air.

She tries her best. He helps her, and together they rise to the top of the flower battle.

He gives her his blood, as proof of his love. His blood is the antidote. His mind control powers can no longer affect her. He has to trust her, and she has to feel the same way. When he says he can't live without her he really means it.

[tiredcreatur3]

Omega reader! that gets jealous of alpha toji! talking to another omega, so she drags him to the nearest bathroom and fucks him till he's the one whining <3

subby pussy drunk toji’s my fav toji, hell yeah 😼

imagine him just having a small talk with an old friend of his that he hasn’t seen for a decade or so, catching up with her as you were busy picking out some clothes, soon noticing the two and frowning.

“yeah, we’re trying for a baby now y’know and-“

“hey, who’s this?” you smiled, wrapping your arm around the alpha and looking up to him and then at the woman, trying to not let the jealousy make you look like a total bitch but well, you hated other women even taking a glance at your partner, let alone talking to them, all giggly and smiley.

“oh, this is y/n ‘nd this is -, i told you about her, remember? she-“

and you didn’t even listen to the male, just focused on getting him the fuck out away from her, faking a little small talk with her, pretending to be actually interested in what she had to say, knowing that toji didn’t want her but just the way she stared at him, you could tell she felt a bit different.

the older could tell you were a bit frustrated and mad, soon saying a goodbye to the woman and parting ways with her, smiling to you and hoping he wouldn’t have to pack his shit and sleep on the front porch tonight.

“baby, i-“

“don’t worry, to.. ‘m not mad, okay?” you let out softly, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing his cheek, smiling and just pretending like you weren’t thinking of such a fun way to make sure the alpha wouldn’t do such thing again.

dragging him to the bathroom as soon as the two of you would leave the store, telling him how badly you needed to pee and just didn’t want him to wait outside, holding his hand as you gently pushed him into the stall, locking the door.

and of course, the male didn’t mind receive head from you in the public restroom, he very much enjoyed that, seeing how much you enjoyed it, letting you suck his dick all you wanted and now it was no different, soon having his pants pool at his ankles along with his boxers, hands placed on the sides of your head, carefully running his fingers through your soft hair, humming softly, head falling backwards and popping right back up as you stopped suddenly, looking up at him with soft eyes and pushing his chest so he’d sit down on the toilet seat.

“this morning wasn’t enough for you, pretty girl?” he let out, smiling to you, cock all stiff and wet, still having no idea what was coming for him, mentioning how he cuddle fucked you so good this morning, lazily pumping his pups inside you before getting up to take a morning shower together.

“no, w-want my alpha again..” you whispered out, pouting as you sat in his lap, stroking the head of his cock, it getting him all tense and shaky, taking a sharp inhale as he stared at you pushing your panties to the side with your other hand.

“you told her that we’re trying for a baby, hm?” you asked the alpha quietly, knowing that nobody else was in the bathroom at the moment, or so you hoped.

the male nodded, stomach all tight as his cock trembled, always eventually getting all weak in the knees for you just handling him like that, resting his hands on your hips, running them up and down your thighs, lifting your skirt up, watching your pretty pussy, just wanting to push his cock inside deep, breathing getting slowly heavy.

“did you tell her how good of a mama to your pups you think i’m going to be? how good ‘m going to take care of them, to?” you continued, knowing that this talk got the alpha going so so easily, finding it adorable how he sometimes thought with just his dick, turning all puppy dog eyed and whimpery whenever you’d tease him like this.

“hm?” you giggled softly, watching how the older opened his mouth to say something but all he could do was just let out a shaky little sigh, head lolling back once you stopped.

“i-i was so close, baby.. c’mon.” he groaned quietly, his dick standing proudly as you smiled, running your small hand up his chest, tapping the cockhead against your slit, rubbing it up and down your soft folds a few times.

“i know, ‘m sorry, daddy.. can i fix it?” you hummed out, slowly and carefully sinking down on the alpha’s cock, pressing your chest against his, arching your back nicely, resting your legs on his thighs. “f-feels better now?”

he nodded his head, all fucked out, keeping you close to him as you began to bounce just your ass, the rest of your body staying glued to him.

“you’re mine, to.. ha-hate when other omegas talk to you, they don’t deserve you like i do.” you whispered into his ear, hearing him let out shaky little whimpers with each bounce of your hips, feeling how his legs were trembling and how hard his cock was inside you, holding you so fucking close, whining your name oh so softly and pathetically.

“ ‘m sorry, baby.. you’re right, you’re so-so fuckin’ right. nobody d-deserves this cock like you do, ‘mega.” he babbled out breathily, resting his hands on your ass, letting you just fuck the shit out of him while he thoroughly enjoyed it, giggling at how miserable he seemed.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.. this dick’s a-all yours, s-shit.” he moaned out and you covered his mouth, giggling as you pulled away from him, beginning to fuck him nice and good, angling your hips just right and watching how the male’s eyes rolled back, his tight hold on your ass faltering as he formed his hands into weak fists, just so fucking out of it.

you were quite satisfied with how out of it the male got, still covering his mouth as you rubbed the side of his face, moving your hips up and down more gentle now, feeling how the older relaxed but still, his cock trembled inside you oh so pathetically, knowing he couldn’t knot your sweet lil pussy or else you two would be stuck there for the next hour.

“p-please, y/n.. please, i-i can’t.”

you heard him muffle through your short fingers, feeling his hot breath as you slowly smiled softly and nodded your head, sinking down on his cock completely and just starting to grind back and forth, sighing shakily and just hugging the alpha tightly now, the two of you breathing heavily before eventually coming nice and hard.

and safe to say, the alpha was an absolute docile little sweetheart for the rest of the day as all he could think about you riding the shit out of him, all pussy drunk and just cuddly.

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 4

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: The search warrants on your salon and house are executed and Melissa turns to an unlikely source for help...

WC: 2k

You turn to your right, glaring hard at Sammy. And then you remember that the books for your family are stowed away- in your safe... at home. Melissa is at the restaurant as far as you’re aware, and if the FBI finds that safe hidden under one of the broken floorboards in your room, you’re dead meat.

What you don’t know is that Melissa, after making a few calls, ends up back at home. She immediately goes for the safebox to look for anything else that could somehow miraculously get you out of this sticky situation, but when she opens it she finds the binder that holds your fate. That’s the absolute last thing she wants to see in your house. She lets out a shaky breath before picking it up and holding it close to her chest. She has no idea where to even take it. If the interrogation leads to warrants, they’re going to check your salon, your home, your cars, even her restaurant.

And then an idea strikes her- and she hates that she even thinks of this. Barbara Howard has no connection to anyone other than being the sweet woman that your family engages with at church. And even at that, your girls are so popular among the congregation, that the entirety of that circle adores you and your family- they can’t certainly go there and interrogate every single person who gathers. Even if they did, nobody knows of the illegal business that she and you run- not even the reverend.

Before she can talk herself out of it, the Italian woman dials the number that she had only dialed a few times before- mostly to pray over you and your girls together, and once to gossip about the fact that Sister Sloss had been skimming money off the top of the church funds and dipping her own toes into a business she had no right to be a part of. 

“Hello? Melissa?” the other woman answers the phone.

“Hey, you remember when you told me I didn’t need to wait to meet you at Mass?”

“Of course I do, and I meant it,” Barbara says into the phone, eyebrow raised.

The redhead runs a nervous hand through her hair. “Care to have brunch?”

“I would be delighted,” the church going woman smiles into the phone. She has no idea what she’s just gotten herself into.

The two women meet at a small diner a few blocks away from the church, and Melissa has the ledger hidden in her all too big bag.

“Not that I’m not happy to be here, but what made you change your mind?”

Melissa lowers her eyes to the table as she lets out, “I need you to do me a favor- no questions asked.” When the woman across from her furrows her brow and bites her lip, the redhead continues. “I have something I need you to hold onto for the time being.”

“And what would that be?”

“I thought I said no questions asked,” Melissa grumbles. “Just... the ledger for the salon. You just have to hold onto it and keep it safe until I take it back.”

“Melissa, are you and Y/N committing fraud?” Barbara asks lowly, just barely audible.

The redhead shakes her head, and she’s telling the truth. “It’s just an extra copy of the financials, but I have a feeling they’re going to take the original copy and I need a backup so I can sue their asses when this is all over.”

Barb closes her eyes for a few seconds, internally wrestling with herself.

“Please,” Melissa begs. “If not for me and Y/N, then for Cat and Rosie.”

“Okay. Hand it over.”

“I’ll give it to you when we’re leaving,” the redhead sighs. “Now, can we talk about what Delisha was wearing today?”

The pair end up having a delightful brunch, and when they part ways Barbara takes the binder with explicit instruction from the Italian to never open it and to hide it somewhere safe- somewhere where even Gerald or the Howard girls won’t be able to find it.

And then Melissa is on her way back home.

Meanwhile, your salon is being torn apart as they look for anything suspicious. There is nothing though of course, because the one thing that they’re looking for isn’t there anymore. Hours go by, and as they move and rearrange everything in the building, you’re right behind them cleaning it up. Your salon might be a front, but you still do good business, and you’d like to keep it that way if possible. It’s the extra pocket money that you and your wife use to spoil the girls as often as you can.

You think of them as you put your business back together- how they’re probably running amuck right now in kindergarten with their all too smart little mouths that they undoubtedly learned from Melissa, their insanely high energy levels. If you can remember as you glance at the clock, they’re probably sprinting around the recess yard giggling with glee at this very moment. It makes your heart warm, and you silently pray to whatever God is out there that they’re safe, happy, and that they get to keep their innocence as life continues for them.

It seems like hours pass before the search is over. But then they move onto your house, and a nasty pit settles in your stomach. Sammy drives with you back to the house, but when he pulls in, the family car is sitting there. Melissa’s home?

Danik knocks on the door rather abrasively, and inside where your wife is folding your girls’ clothes in the living room she jumps.

“Hello?” She comes to the door and opens it wide, hoping to give off the impression that the two of you have absolutely nothing to hide- only she knows that there’s nothing here.

“Hey honey,” you sigh softly as you step past the officers to peck her lips. “Why are you home? I thought you had work today?”

She holds up her injured hand. “I got into a fight today... the knife won.”

“Baby,” you look up at the ceiling with an exasperated look as you take her hand in your own and start to unwrap it to check the damage. “Were you singing and dancing again while trying to dice the onions?”

“Maybe,” Melissa shrugs, although she knows that is very much not why she nicked her fingers today.

“Enough,” Danik steps between the two of you. He holds up the search warrant for Melissa to see. “We have to search your home now for any ties to the murder of Bobby Esposito.”

“To Bobby?” your wife plays dumb. “That was such a shame what happened to-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because the police push past her rather harshly and begin their search.

They look through the whole house- moving furniture, opening drawers and cabinets, even going as far as pulling back the blankets on your twins’ beds while you and Melissa just continue to fold laundry in the living room. Hopefully by just letting them do their thing and not trailing their every step, they realize that you were not involved in the hit on Bobby. They find nothing. But then, they head into your bedroom.

Melissa is clearly trying to silently convey something to you, but you can’t pick up on what she’s attempting to tell you. Her eyes dart to yours every few moments from over the laundry you’re both folding, returning to the doorway of your bedroom that the agents are currently tearing apart.

“We found something!” Shaw shouts to Danik, who is still combing through the girls’ room. The woman goes rushing into your room, and you blow out a breath as you know they’ve just found the loose floorboard with the safe... that contains your ledger. You know your arrest is only minutes away.

“Mrs. Schemmentis, enough of the domestic household act,” Danik rolls her eyes as she steps into the living room. “We found the safe, and we need you to open it.”

You take your wife’s hand in your own and squeeze it gently, as if to say, ‘I love you, and I’m sorry’. She just returns the gesture as you both make your way into your bedroom.

The safe is sitting on your bed, and the agents look all too happy to have found what they think they’re looking for.

“Open it,” Shaw instructs.

You do, and when you expect to find the ledger laying on top where you had put it last night, you only find all of your other legal documents- birth certificates for your family, passports from the trip to Italy a few summers ago, your marriage license, social security cards. You try to hide the absolute shock in your face- where the hell could the ledger have gone?

Admitting defeat for now, the agents leave your home promising that they will find whatever you’re hiding. You shoo them out, telling them that you weren’t connected to the hit on Bobby in the slightest and that you wish they would just leave you alone. You tell them that you would kindly appreciate it if they would leave you to take care of your injured wife.

Sammy also makes his exit after assuring you that they aren’t going to find anything. That leaves just you and Melissa. You gently unwrap her hand to change the gauze out when your eyes meet hers.

“Where the hell did the books go?” you whisper, almost afraid that the cops had somehow bugged your house and you weren’t aware.

“Why was it in our house to begin with?” your wife shoots out just as quietly. “We had one rule, and it was that none of that shit ever comes home with us to protect the girls. Do you know how pissed I was when I found it?”

You close your eyes briefly at your wife’s biting tone. She may be quiet, but you can see the echoes of how furious she was when she initially found the ledger in your home. 

You’re taken back to just after the girls were born. Barely six months old, swaddled in blankets and tucked safely in their car carriers a few feet away from you and Melissa both. The two of you helped put back together the apartment that had been flipped entirely upside down by the police. An hour before you had watched the tail end of the search being finished. It had, unfortunately in your eyes, been successful for the police and ended with Melissa’s younger brother Mickey in handcuffs.

It was then that Melissa had looked at you, in the middle of trying to put her brother’s apartment back together, with determination set in her features. ‘Business never comes home.’ She said firmly. It wasn’t a sentiment you were inclined to argue with, and if you had been, the look on your wife’s face would ensure you wouldn’t have.

“I knew they were going to search the salon, so I brought it home until I could figure out what to do with it,” you mumble. “I was going to get rid of it by the end of today.”

“Well you’re damn lucky Val convinced me to take the day off after I nearly cut off my fingers because I was so distracted worrying about you,” Melissa hisses out. “If you knew they were going to search the salon, you damn well knew they were going to search the house too!”

“I didn’t think they’d do it all in one day!” you defend yourself as you wrap her hand just slightly more aggressively than you usually would (and even then, it’s not aggressive at all... you handle your wife with such delicate care). “Now where is it?! My life depends on that book!”

“It’s somewhere no one will ever think to look,” the redhead tells you with a smirk on her face.

“Melissa Ann,” you huff out in frustration. “Now is not the time for games. Where is the damn book?!”

“With Barbara Howard,” Melissa whispers. 

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The brother’s wingmen

Ron Weasley x reader

Requested by: @technicallyfreephilosopher

You have attracted the attention of Ron, the younger brother of your bosses.

Note: This is a one off fic. If anyone requests a character that is not on the list, I will not write it

A/N: I agreed to write this to set myself a challenge of writing for someone else. I want to start writing for others (those on the list). I incorporated two of my favourite things. Fred Weasley and George Weasley. I'm also sorry that this took so long. My motivation just plummeted. I’m also sorry to the requester who’s username isn’t letting me tag

T/W: Ron not being good with the ladies, Twins acting as wingmen (yikes), Unprotected sex, riding, Ron being dominated a little,

Ron had always been proud of his brothers.

Being related to the best pranksters at Hogwarts was a blessing more than a curse. People knew you and your name was synonymous with mischief (and Ginger hair). Nobody in the family was shocked when Fred and George opened a joke shop, it was the one thing that they were the best at.

The smell of plastic and fresh paint filled the store on the day of the grand opening. There were even journalists with the Daily Prophet to document the opening of a new store in Diagon Alley. Everyone wandered around the shop in awe at the various colours, sights, and smells. Fred and George were as pleased as punch at their blooming business.

Ron found his way to the small shelf of sweets and bartered with his older brothers for a discount, and then trudged to the counter after being charged double. So much for family discount.

Every situation has a good and a bad side. For Ron, the bad bit was being charged double for something that would last him 5 minutes. The good, however, was the cashier. She was stunning.

Ron put the box onto the counter and stared at the woman. His blush was almost as bright as his ginger locks. The cashier rang the item up on the till and smiled at his expression.

Remember the different sides to every situation? A new negative side was that Ron was being watched by his older brothers…

…Who had caught onto his little crush on their employee.

Fred and George were mischievous, and that didn't change when it came to their younger siblings.

Fred slid up to the cashier and gave Ron an evil smirk.

“So Ronny, what do you think of the new store? Everything’s looking pretty good, don't you think?”

George sauntered over to stand next to Ron on the other side of the counter.

“If you want to give anything here a try, you just have to ask”

Ron was mortified. He looked over at you and saw your face. You didn’t know that the twins were implying anything. They were your mischievous bosses, this was natural.

Ron just turned and walked quickly out of the store, leaving behind an oblivious cashier and his annoying older brothers.

____________________________________________

A few days later, Ron came back when you were just finishing work. You noticed him tucked away in the corner, like he was hiding from you.

As if, like magic, one of your employers appeared behind you.

“You know, Ron could really use your help. He wanted to show you something upstairs in the flat”

You were a good employee, and if your boss’s brother wanted something, you were happy to help. Fred called Ron over and whispered something to him about you wanting to show him something upstairs.

So the both of you made your way up to the flat, believing that the other had something to show.

The twins knew what they were doing, that's why they lit some candles and covered the floor with rose petals before telling you to finish up your shift. They would be their brothers wingmen.

But where they saw themselves as Cupids, Ron saw them as winged pests. Both you and Ron were beyond surprised at the romantic display. But it all started to make sense when the front door lock clicked behind you both.

Ron panicked and tried pulling the door, getting angry when he heard his brothers laughing from the other side. Ron pulled his wand out, but then it dawned on him. This was his chance. Maybe he could try and pick up line or two and hope for the best.

He turned back to face you and found you sat on the sofa, a rose petal in your hand. He sat beside you and cleared his throat.

“You know, roses smell pretty, but they don’t smell as good as you do”

His mouth had taken over before his brain could.

“W..What I mean is…you smell great. Not that I know how you smell! You look as good as a rose, but..but better…”

It took him a minute to realise that the reason his words weren’t coming out anymore was because your lips had sealed his. His whole face went as red as the rose petals littering the carpet. His hands found your waist as his lips danced with yours. The longer the kiss went on, the hotter the room seemed.

When you both pulled away for air, your leg was draped over his leg and hand had moved higher up your back to your bra clasp.

In a flash, your hands were fumbling with his belt clasp, surprising Ron with your eagerness. But he didn't mind, he liked that you were taking what you wanted. When his belt was open and his trousers unzipped, he helped you to pull his cock out from his underwear.

You straddled his waist before reaching under your uniform skirt to pull your underwear to the side. Ron spat on his hand and stroked his cock, lubing it up before helping you to sink down onto him, impaling yourself.

Your hand had to cover his mouth to stop the loud moan that left his lips. If his brothers were shrill listening in, they'd have a field day with teasing Ron. You kept your hand over his mouth as you lifted your hips, keeping the pace steady. Ron tried to get you to move faster by squeezing your hips and bucking up into you, but you stopped him.

Every time he tried to take control of you, you took it from him with a manner so sweet it didn't feel like a surrender. Eventually, he gave you the reins and sat back. His hands on your waist to hold you close, not to urge your movements. You kept your bouncing light, as if any harsh movement would break the man beneath you. His breath was hot and heavy against your palm, his cock pulsed inside of you signalling how close he was.

You kept your eyes on his, giving him gentle words through unspoken words. And that's when he let go.

His cum painted your insides while his muffled moans and groans barely escaping from behind your hand. You could hear his whimpers slowly getting louder while you used him to get off. He tried pleading, begging for you to cum to stop the overstimulation that you were putting him through.

Your walls squeezed his cock, causing his eyelids to flutter. Your juices coated his thighs, leaving a sticky reminder of the evening. Your body collapsed onto his, your hand finally leaving his mouth. The air is filled with the sound of heavy panting, until there was a bang at the door from the twins.

“Are you two love birds finished yet?”

Maybe one more round wouldn't hurt.

[21wanderer]

Seat taken.

It had been a rough day at work, it's been long since I remember being so physically exhausted from work, my feet were aching, but if I had hoped that I could have a sit in the bus on my way home, I was disappointed.

All the seats were taken, usually I'd always get a spot, but today it was particularly crowded, and the bus hadn't even driven through the most busy part of the city yet. So I had to stand along with many others, dreading how crowded this bus was going to be by the time it came to the central station.

I stood in the back aisle with at least five other people. I looked about, hoping to see someone getting ready to get up, but again I was disappointed. And I probably wasn’t the person, who would need a seat the most, but today I certainly felt like it.

On one of the seats next to the aisle sat a young man, I tried not to stare too much at him, which was difficult as he was very handsome. Broad shoulders, leather jacket, tight jeans, slick hair. You could tell he had a good, strong body under those clothes. And while it was going to be a slightly uncomfortable ride, I at least had something pretty to look at… As long as I didn’t look like, I was looking. But right now, I’d much rather have his seat, than having him on the bus.

The bus began to slow down.

"Then why don't you take it?!" The voice came out of nowhere, and I flinched. I looked around, but nobody near seemed to have noticed anything, nor could I see who could have said that, they'd have to have been right next to my ear. But everywhere I looked, people’s gazes were turned away.

I then began to notice something strange, the bus had been standing still for an unusually long period of time, I turned and tried looking out the front window through the crowd in front of me. We were on the road, not at a bus stop as I had assumed, but the cars in front were not moving either... but it wasn't a traffic jam. Then I also noticed how quiet the bus had gotten, seemingly nothing moved in here as well.

A woman in her sixties sitting on the opposite side were watching a video on her phone, I looked a bit closer on her screen, the video was clearly meant to be playing, but it wasn't, and the woman didn't seem to notice. Then I also noticed, that she wasn't blinking at all.

Time had frozen around me, and all of a sudden I began to feel trapped. The last thing I did was to press 'Stop' on every single stop button within my reach. Not a single one responded. Then I began to wonder about what that voice had said... Why don't I take the seat?

At first I was a bit cautious, I gently brushed my hand across the man's shoulder, feeling the smooth leather covering it. If time had started flowing right now, I might have been able to make an excuse, but nothing happened.

I then brushed a hand on his thigh, again no reaction whatsoever. He was just staring at nothing. Then I decided to try, what the voice had told me. Carefully I grabbed his shoulder and thigh, or rather just his jacket and jeans and attempted to lift him.

It was surprisingly easy, it was like he weighed next to nothing, I lifted him from the seat, just by pinching his clothes. I'm pretty sure, that would normally be impossible to do, it was like, he was a giant rag doll. Before lifting him all the way out of his seat, I let go, and he slumped back again, as if nothing had happened.

Then an idea came to me... If time began to flow now, I don't think, I would be able to make any valid excuse. I carefully placed my bag on the floor and stuffed my phone, travel card and keys into it. I kept my eyes on him to see, if he, or anything else for that matter, began to move... But still nothing interesting happened.

I wasn't sure this would work, but I was genuinely curious of, what was going on in this bus. I mean, I could just have taken his seat and then everything would resume to normal... I assumed. But maybe, just maybe, I could take this a step further.

I sat on the young man's lap, expecting him to wake up immediately from his trance and put me in the most embarrassing moment of my life. But he didn't seem to notice me at all, even though he was looking straight at me.

I started to grind myself down on his lap, and now I could feel myself getting aroused, when I noticed I was sinking. Our legs had partially melted together... It was working!

Aligning my feet with his, I began to sink further into his legs and soon I could only see one pair of feet, they weren't mine, but they moved, as if they were. I could now even feel my butt on the bus seat.

I leant back against his chest, I unzipped his jacket, so I could ease my way in much more comfortably. I pressed my own torso against his, twisting and turning as I sank deeper into his body. I aligned my arms with his, and I could feel the muscles tightening, as I slowly gained control of them.

From the neck and down I had completely merged with this guy, I could feel his strength, his endurance, his heartbeat, all these aspects and more that now belonged to me. And just to make sure... I stretched my new impressive arms over my head, they responded, just like they were mine... but then again, they were now.

I zipped the jacket again, my jacket, it felt so indescribably good to have this body. In the motionless bus, I could hear every tiny creak the leather made with every little move I made. I could see my chest rise and fall with my every breath. Never had I imagine to have pecs like that.

Now it was time to complete this. I lifted my big muscly arms, which were now completely under my control. One hand I placed on my forehead, the other on the back of his head. Then I just pressed. I could feel his nose poking me, but soon that feeling disappeared, as my head sunk back into his, his skin, flesh and bones opening up for me, so I could complete, what I had started.

It was dark for a moment. Then I felt the skin of his forehead creeping under my fingertips. Then I opened my eyes. I had done it. The body was mine... I can't describe how good I felt... Elation, ecstasy, euphoria.

With great satisfaction I leant back into my seat, as the bus began to move again, and the noise around me began to re-emerge. I pulled my new phone out of my new jeans' pocket and looked at the display. No time had passed at all... How curious...

The phone scanned my face and unlocked, mistaken me for its actual owner. Then again it's just a piece of technology, easily fooled. The question is, would I be able to fool all those around me? Could I become him in more than just appearance? Only time would tell.

Nobody apparently noticed that a passenger on the bus had just disappeared, but I couldn't really be bothered to care. I picked up my old bag from the floor and placed it on my lap. But only for a few minutes. The 'Stop' signs were now flashing red on the displays throughout the bus. I guess, that was my work, but the timing was perfect.

I did have a feeling, I was meant to get off at the next stop. Maybe that means, that I'm starting to think like this guy. The bus began to decelerate and I got up from my seat leaving it vacant for someone else. I felt fully rested and relaxed. I eased my way past the other passengers, not as easy with my new broader shoulders.

The air outside was cool and refreshing. I popped the collar on my jacket and pulled my bag over my shoulders, and watched the bus disappear into the traffic. I smiled to myself, this was a feeling of satisfaction, I never thought possible. What a nice ride.

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - I need you

Balancing on the top of the lamppost, you studied the street below you, carefully watching as a few people went about their routines.

It was late, night many people would be wondering around at this time, which was the perfect time for most villains to strike.

Putting your hands in your pockets, titled your head to the side a little, listening to changes all around the ward.

Jumping on a few lampposts, you made your way to the next street, doing the same thing.

Someone pointed up at you and grinned brightly, giving you a happy wave and you waved back, jumping down, landing lightly on your feet.

“Oh my god! Whisper!”

You smiled, making your way over, hands stuffed in your pockets as you approached the woman.

“Can I have a picture?!”

You nodded your head, letting her take a photo with you, and you offered a wave as you jumped back up to your vantage point, making your way past the streets.

Your quirk wasn’t overly spectacular, you had enhanced hearing and strength, that was it, everything else you had to work hard to get.

You stopped again, looking around.

That’s when you heard it, the sound of your name being called out, not your hero name, but your actual name, something only a few people knew.

Spinning around, you jumped up to the rooftops running over them to get to your destination a lot easier.

Jumping down, you landed on your feet, coming to a stop on a quiet bridge where a familiar figure was leaning against the railing.

“Eraser?” You asked.

He spun around, looking at you, and you walked over to lean next to him, resting your arms on the ledge.

“What’s the matter?” You asked.

“You came…”

You turned to look at him, giving him a soft smile.

“You called..”

He seemed tired, and you sighed softly, turning a little to look at him.

“You haven’t been sleeping properly.”

“When have I ever?”

This made you laugh a little bit, giving him a small smile, and you looked to the water below.

“What’s going on…?”

Aizawa sighed heavily, resting his back on the railing as he looked up and down the road, making sure there was nobody else nearby.

“I just wanted to see you…”

“We never said we couldn’t be friends when we broke up, you know that.”

“I know but it didn’t seem fair… I thought maybe you had moved on or something…”

You walked in front of him, holding your hand out, and he looked at you.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet, it’s nearly rush hour anyway.”

He nodded his head, taking your hand in his, letting you lead him to your apartment.

You took your hero equipment off, putting some sound blocking headphones on, making your way back out of your room.

Aizawa had taken his capture scarf off, leaving it on the floor by your couch, and you sat down, placing a cushion in your lap, gesturing for him to lay down.

He didn’t think twice and laid down, having been so used to this routine with you.

You ran your fingers through his hair slowly, giving him a warm smile as you looked down at him.

He covered his eyes with his arm, and you carried on watching him carefully.

“Shota? What’s going on? It’s not like you to call me.”

He sighed heavily, moving his hand away from you.

“Why did you come?”

You smiled.

“Because I promised you I would always come when you called for me.”

“Why? After what happened? We broke up yet you’re still there…”

You sighed a little bit.

“Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I don’t still love you Shota, I’ll always love you, even if we aren’t together. What happened wasn’t either of our fault, it just happened. We didn’t have time for each other.”

“That’s my fault…”

“Stop blaming yourself, okay? It wasn’t, sometimes life gets in the way. It just wasn’t the right time.”

You carried on working your fingers through his hair, still smiling down at him.

It had always been like that, you helping him relax, you had always been there for him, helping him with everything, sleeping, making sure he ate.

Yet he didn’t do anything for you.

He never repaid that favour, he was always so busy, he neglected you by accident, he never meant to, and it was true when everybody said you were too perfect for him.

“I’m sorry.”

You gently slapped his arm.

“Stop it right now Shota.”

He sat up, taking the cushion, gesturing for you to lay down as this time, so you did, resting your head on it as you looked up at him.

He carefully took your headphones off, then covered your ears with his hands.

The noises from outside were still there, a little louder than normal, but it didn’t hurt your ears.

“I want us to get back together.”

“What?”

He smiled a little, leaning over.

“I want us to try again, once more.” He whispered.

“Shota…”

He leant down, brushing his lips against yours, not quite in a kiss, but you could feel them.

“I need you by my side…”

You leant up, fully kissing him this time, and he smiled into it.

You pulled away, moving away so you could sit up to look at him.

“I’d never say no to getting back together with you moron.”

He chuckled, leaning over, putting your headphones back in for you, then placed a hand on the back of your head to kiss you again.

He was going to take better care of you this time, he was going to make sure he didn’t push you away for a second time.

When you pulled away, you laid down, letting him rest his head on your shoulder, covering his eyes with your hand.

“Go to sleep Shota.”

He hummed, nodding his head, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

For the first time since you left he was fully relaxed and at ease having you there, you were his calamity, his calmness and you were going to be his top priority in everything from now on

[spotty-bee]

Hazbin Hotel Headcannon

I've been thinking a lot about Adam, Lute, Vaggie and the exorcists. How they all work and everything that we've learned over the course of the show about them. After looking over the pictures of them without their masks and all the back dealings with heaven I was kinda starting to think...

What if their all related?

Adam and Vaggie have the same skin colour. Lute has Adam's nose. They all have golden pupils (Though Vaggie's sclera is red, many have head cannoned that being from living in hell.) Vaggie and Lute both have white hair. Theres a lot of similarities between these characters physically and while that can be due to the art style, I do start to wonder.

However WHY would Lute , Vaggie and possibly all the exorcists be Adam's daughters? Well it starts to make sense when you remember that Sera wanted to keep the Exterminations under wraps. If you have Heaven Born or Saint (Dead humans who got into Heaven) warriors doing the exterminations, word would eventually get out. These people have lives outside of their work and all it would take is talking to a spouse or one of them feeling guilty before news spreads. IF you have warriors who's entire life was Exterminations, then they would A- be less likely to tell anyone and B- Be less likely to feel guilty if they weren't taught anything else.

As for where all these woman came from, my guess would be cloning. We know for a FACT that Heaven has Science.

A good way to get warriors that won't have outside influence/ loose lips is if they don't have any parents that will be wondering whats going on. Cloning would also ensure that warriors will walk off the assembly line fully grown and ready to train. Adam likely used his DNA and then mixed it with donated DNA from other Heavenly Residents . All he then had to do was train his army.

OF course this opens up some rather dark things to consider. There are at least 100 Exterminators. All of them are female. The likelihood of that happening by happenstance is extremely low. Adam had to have chosen to only have woman in his army, and when you factor in Adam's misogynist, narcissistic attitude, that dose not paint a pretty picture. We also need to consider that Adam was left to train/educate these woman with almost no outside interference. Sera made it clear she wanted as little to do with the Extermination business as possible and she maybe one of the few who knew about the army's creation. IN FACT I know she had nothing to do with the army because, apparently, Adam got to name these girls and nobody, and I mean NOBODY, stopped him from naming Vaggie after female anatomy. (I wouldn't be surprised if Vaggie is a nickname and she's actually just named Vagina.)

They seem to have lived a life of constant training and battle. Its also heavily implied that Vaggie (and Lute to a lesser extent) were taught to view themselves as disposable. Worthless if they didn't have someone to serve. We see it when Vaggie tries to lead the trust exercises, when she beats herself up for not making a proper commercial for the hotel, in fact she seems to have little personal life unless its training or Charlie is involved. Lute herself rips off her own arm just to try and help Adam. If Adam did raise/train them, then these are some pretty bad signs.

These are just some things I was thinking about looking over the show. I am also not making this to bash anyone who ships Adam and Lute. This is all speculation and personal interpretation. I've just never felt anything romantic between Lute and Adam, but they were clearly close. I took that last, tearful goodbye in the finally as a distant, estranged Father- Daughter relationship.

Anyway, what do you think? Its highly unlikely this is true, but could make for a fun, dark fan fiction or Au!

[henrioo]

Hi. How are you? Your imagines are just wow! I would love a Shanks x female reader please. Your Whitebeard’s only daughter. When Shanks comes to meet with Whitebeard, he remembers you from when Roger and Whitebeard fought when they were kids. He remembers that you and him made a promise (what the promise is I’d love to see what you think because whatever you decide it will be amazing). It ends with a kiss and a new member of the red haired Pirates. Thank you! 🧡

✦ ── THE PROMISE: AKAGAMI NO SHANKS

Part one, part two

Relationships: Young! Shanks x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: What would it be like to run into Shanks years after his disappearance and all the events between the two of you? What would have changed?

Warnings: Spoilers! Shanks' past (what we know at least), cannon divirgence, cannon change (my theory of what would have happened), mention of death, mention of running away from relatives (running away from home basically) Shanks is still young has both arms!

Word Count: 2,1k

Notes: Here is the second part of this imagine that everyone loved! Thanks to this ask I decided to continue so thank you, here is a lot of invention of how the facts would have been since we don't know much, I also wanted to make a young Shanks because I didn't want to make them only meet decades later.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

You sighed tiredly and stretched your arms still sitting in your office chair. Your desk was full of papers and books, you were like a little secretary on the ship, taking care of important papers for Marco and your father, always willing to help. You looked out the small window and knew that it was already dark, you had stopped on a small allied island and you were probably the only one still working.

All of your brothers would already be making out between men and women and drinking until they threw up. Not that you were against parties, especially now that you were in your twenties and old enough to attend, but sometimes you liked the solitude and silence. Just you, your papers and your thoughts about the future and all that may lie ahead.

But well, the night was young and you definitely weren't going to be locked up working! You got up and ran towards your room, ready to change into a nicer outfit than your casual one and have some fun. You intended to drink, eat and well… Maybe you found some man or woman interesting enough to talk to and maybe something else.

After changing into comfortable but beautiful clothes, you found yourself walking through the almost empty streets of the island. There were a few drunks and couples walking around, the bars were packed and the restaurants had all kinds of people in, it looked like a very busy and lively night. You stopped in one spot and looked around, thinking about your next move.

"Now, where would those idiots go…" you pondered, no one had told you exactly which bar the family party would be at and that's why you were lost from the others.

While you were thinking, one hand quickly went around your waist and the other around your mouth. With extraordinary strength you were pulled into a dark alley between the various houses in the area. You were scared when you were caught off guard, but as you always knew that despair was not the solution, so you calmed down to fight back.

When the final unknown stopped, having taken you far enough, it was time to act! You quickly stepped on his foot and turned around, punching the individual square in the face. As if that wasn't enough, you grabbed a small knife that you always carried and positioned yourself, ready to attack whoever was there.

"Auch! Wow my sweet, the years go by and your punch keeps knocking anyone down" the humorous voice confused you, he was thinking it was a joke.

"Ha, nobody ordered me kidnapped, next time it's going to take a lot more than just a punch" you said slyly.

"Kidnap? Isn't that… Funny, y/n? The first time we met I'm pretty sure the situation was similar" he chuckled.

"First time?" You asked even more confused, how did he know your name? How did he know you?

The man chuckled quickly and then walked out of the darkness of the alley, walking closer to the lighted area. His gaze started at his feet, going up to his strong legs, his exuberant chest, one hand on his sword at his waist and the other caressing his face where you'd struck. He had scarred eyes and a wild look, his red hair peeking out from under his straw hat...

"Shanks?!" You practically screamed in shock, was that really him?

"It took you a while to recognize me… Was I so different?" He smiled maliciously and looked at you with a lot of emotion.

"No… But… It's been years" You finally let your guard down and put your knife away, there was no need to attack.

You looked at the man trying to gain confirmation that it really was him, Shanks... How many years had it been since you saw or heard about him?

You had met in childhood, after a funny situation together, and from the beginning the red-haired boy had shown a lot of interest in you, even though you were enemies from birth. The few physical encounters you had were made up for by the letters you exchanged until adolescence, Shanks telling about your adventures with Roger and you talking about your own with your family.

For you, that boy was as important as any member of the ship, but it was different from a platonic feeling. You and Shanks had chemistry, you understood each other like no one else and the more you talked the more you wanted to be together. It wasn't strange the plans you made about the future, Shanks liked to say that one day you would marry him and you would live adventures together, sailing the seas with your own crew.

You believed that for many years, you fell in love with the boy you met and dreamed the most beautiful fantasies... Until that happened, the news that Roger had been captured and that all his crew was missing. You were no more than eighteen at the time and you were devastated... The worry of what had happened to Shanks hit you so hard that you fell ill, not even the crew who were equipped with the best doctors could help you.

When you got better and woke up a few days later, you learned from your father that Roger's crew had been disbanded and that all the crew were missing and lost at sea. Fear and uncertainty hurt you inside, you didn't know what could have happened to Shanks, was he alive? How would you be after losing the man who was like your father? What kinds of dangers was he in now, completely alone?

For a few years you tried to look for Shanks, even if your brothers were against it as it was risky, they knew it was important and helped you as much as they could. But he was completely gone, no one had seen or heard from him, for a few years you decided that Shanks had died... Or that he had suffered so much from the loss that he fled the pirate world completely, the point is that the pain of his absence kept hurting you day after day.

As time went by you learned to live with the pain, to deal with the fact that maybe the love of your life was gone. When you heard the rumors that some pirates who fought together with Roger had returned to the sea, you thought it was just any rumor, nonsense… But there he was, Shanks in all his glory. Completely alive.

"I thought… I thought you were dead" you finally gathered your thoughts and spoke after a few seconds of staring at him.

"I know… I… I needed some time" he said with a light tone but it was possible to see how important that was to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ah, I wasn't really planning on meeting you… Not right now" he chuckled "But I happened to need to stop by and I heard your family was in town… So why not?" He glared at you.

"Shanks… I…" you tried to speak but all you felt were the tears coming down "I'm sorry… I didn't"

"Hey, hey… it's okay" he leaned closer "Let it out…" he hugged you and started rubbing your back lightly.

"I thought I lost you forever… I'm so glad you're alive…" You let your face rest against his chest.

"If I had known you missed me so much I would have come sooner… I… I missed you too y/n… There isn't a day that I don't think about you…" he admitted.

"Oh really?" You smiled and walked away "I don't know, you were always a joker, I bet you say that to everyone…" you teased, already feeling better.

"No! Of course not! Besides… I really needed to find you and fulfill our promise…" He became more serious again and stared at you deeply.

"Promise?" You asked confused.

"Not here… Come" he offered his hand and you immediately took it.

Quickly he pulled you through the half-empty streets, you walked through the bright and fresh night without worries. There you weren't the heir to the legacy of the pirate king or one of the sons of Whitebeard's crew, no… There you were just Shanks and y/n, two young adults in love who hadn't seen each other in so long that they were almost forgetting one another. from the other. There you can laugh and just live that night together.

"Here's good… I wanted to take you on a real date, but we don't have much time" he turned around, you were in a small square overlooking the beach in the distance. The sound of waves was comforting to you.

"What's going on Shanks?"

"Okay, I need to tell you two things… But you have to promise that you won't answer until I explain everything, okay?" He held both of your hands.

"Okay… Talk soon" you looked at him curious and excited.

"First, I'm putting together my own pirate crew. I've decided that I want to keep sailing, I want to have my own nakamas and sail around the world like I used to with the captain…" There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but he still kept a smile on his face. "So I'm going through some islands and recruiting some people, I have a small ship but soon things will change when we start to act"

You assimilated the information slowly, so Shanks would return to the pirate life... You felt very happy for him, knowing that he would not give up that life he loved so much even after the loss.

"Now… I also decided something else, during these years I kept thinking about you… I couldn't get in touch because it was risky, I was still weak and young and I only had one chance to make everything right…" he sighed "But now I've managed to organize things and I've decided that I want you with me... Do you remember our promise? When we grow up we'll have our own crew and live adventures together? Would you be my companion the same as when we were silly kids and we dated for fun?"

"Of course I remember… Every day I thought about you, our plans… How we were going to live together… But I don't understand what one thing goes with the other… Ah unless you're saying that…" you stared at him blankly.

"Yeah… I know your dad and brothers are probably going to kill me… But I needed to risk seeing you before I started sailing like a pirate, tell me, y/n" he smiled at you "would you mate with me and run away with me to assemble a pirate crew?"

"Shanks…" you were in shock.

"I know, I know, they are your family and I can't wait for you to accept it because we haven't seen each other for years… But I want to make up for everything I promised you, I really love you y/n… Always have, since when you were just a sulky kid wanting to make friends" he laughed "I promise I'll protect you and I won't take you away from your family, but if I'm going to live the adventure of being a pirate captain… I want to live it with you."

You had nothing to answer so you just threw yourself into his arms, squeezing him tight and confirming that it was all reality.

"One thing you know for sure… My father will kill you when he finds out" you laughed.

"It's worth it… Besides, I think I'm old enough to face the old man…" he chuckled back.

"Shanks… I love you too" you said, millimeters away from his face.

"Then come with me, let's start our lives together" he offered moving closer "Be mine."

"Yes I will be" you smiled and your lips finally came together.

The kiss was passionate and slow, you took advantage of every second to kill the longing you had for years. Shanks's hand grabbed your waist and the other held in his hair, like a brief affection but also preventing you from pulling away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your body go limp and comfortable against his.

"I've wanted to do this for so long…" he smiled as you pulled away.

"Me too, me too…"

The next morning all his brothers and father could find was his empty room along with a beautiful letter of thanks and farewell. Of course they were worried about you, but you were strong, you were as skilled a pirate as anyone else on that ship. If your wish was to adventure with Shanks and live with him, all they could do was support you and hope that everything works out... But that didn't stop your father from swearing to beat Shanks up if he hurt you.

[moodymelanist]

you look so pretty (and i love this view)

happy @sjmromanceweek everyone! I'm so excited to be doing this event for the third year running and I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with this week 🤍🤍🤍

I’m planning to post at least 3 or 4 fics this week, starting off with some good old fashioned Nemerie. Stay tuned for some Elucien, Nezriel, Nessian, and perhaps even some Azris this week if I can get to them 👀👀

Summary: Nesta's Hinge date doesn't show, so Emerie steps in.

Word Count: 1.7k

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡ Emerie

After a long day at work, Emerie was more than happy to stop at one of the bars on her way home for a much-needed drink. She’d had to stay much later at the office than usual because of someone else’s fuck up, and although she was more than ready to fall into bed, she’d much rather do it with some alcohol and a warm dinner in her stomach. 

Emerie signaled the bartender and ordered her usual drink, taking slow sips as she looked around the place. For a Thursday night things weren’t as busy as she’d expected, but she supposed the happy hour crew had came and left while she was still mentally cursing out her coworkers. There were more than a few empty seats at the bar, but there was a decent crowd spread out amongst the booths and tables ready to have dinner. 

Nobody really caught her eye until she noticed a gorgeous woman sitting at one of the booths near the door, and Emerie watched as she periodically kept checking her phone and looking over her shoulder every time someone came in. If Emerie had to guess, it looked like she was waiting for a date to show up, and Emerie hoped whoever it was didn’t keep the woman waiting much longer. 

You didn’t keep someone who looked like that waiting. With her golden brown hair, pretty eyes, and the way her dark dress was clinging to her, Emerie would kill for an excuse to get to know her. Dating had been pretty… uneventful for her after her last relationship had imploded, so maybe it was just wishful thinking that maybe this woman would look back, but that wouldn’t stop Emerie from wishing. 

Emerie kept her eye on the woman over the next fifteen minutes, watching as her expression grew more and more pinched. Her server came by to check on her several times, and each time the woman declined to order anything while she waited for her so-called date to show up. Emerie half hoped whoever the woman was waiting on would show up just to keep that expression off her pretty face, but the much larger part of Emerie was hoping that the date never showed so she could swoop in. 

Swoop in to do what exactly, Emerie wasn’t quite sure; clearly, her wishful thinking mentality was still in effect.

The next time the woman’s server came by, the woman heaved a heavy sigh before she started talking. She seemed more… defeated, this time, and Emerie hated to see it.

I guess they’re not coming, Emerie saw the woman say to her server. Emerie had a flash of panic — what if the woman left before she could say anything to her, or even get her name? 

Looking back on this moment later, Emerie wouldn’t be able to put her finger on what made her do it, but something made her get out of her stool. Before she could second-guess herself too strongly, she tossed back the rest of her drink, walked around the bar, and sat herself down right at the woman’s table. 

“Hi,” Emerie said, her heart pounding in her chest at all the different ways this could go wrong. The woman’s eyes were piercing this close up, and Emerie thanked her lucky stars she’d decided to take a little extra time getting ready this morning for work. “I’m really sorry I’m late. I’m Emerie.”

The woman blinked at her for several long moments before reaching out and offering her hand. “Nesta.”

Their server — a pretty, brown-skinned woman named Clare — gave Emerie some serious side eye before flipping her notepad back open and clicking her pen. “Glad you could make it. Would you like any appetizers?”

Nesta ordered some calamari for the table and waited a few seconds for Clare to be out of earshot before looking back at Emerie. “You’re not my date.”

“You can tell me to leave if you want,” Emerie said, already mentally preparing herself to get right back up again, “but I think you’re gorgeous, and gorgeous women should never be kept waiting.”

“Oh,” Nesta said back, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. Emerie half wondered how far that blush could go, given the chance, but she forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand. “Well. I suppose you’re right.”

“You suppose?” Emerie replied with a hopeful little smile. 

“Yes,” Nesta answered, raising one of her eyebrows. “But don’t get used to it. I’m the one who’s always right.”

Emerie laughed. “Maybe that’s because you haven’t met your match yet.”

“Are you saying that’s you?” Nesta fired back without missing a beat. 

“Only one way to find out, right?” Emerie replied. She couldn’t believe her luck — here she was, sitting across from a beautiful woman, and the two of them were already going back and forth effortlessly. 

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed slowly, her eyes taking their time trailing over Emerie’s top half. “I guess there is.”

As they talked over their appetizers and eventually their meals, Emerie fell a little more head over heels with every detail she learned about Nesta. She was an attorney working in intellectual property, she had a cat, and most importantly, she had indeed been stood up on a date. 

“I mean, it’s not that hard to send a text if you changed your mind,” Nesta grumbled over her eggplant Parmesan. “It only takes a couple of seconds.”

“She sounds like she sucks,” Emerie replied, pulling a huff of a laugh out of Nesta.

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed. “I never got to meet up with her, but this is a much better date than whatever excuse she would’ve pulled out of her ass if she ever showed up.”

“It definitely wouldn’t have been good enough for you,” Emerie told her, picking up a few pieces of her penne alle vodka with her fork. 

“After almost twenty minutes? Definitely not.” Nesta took a sip of her soda before fixing Emerie with a considering stare. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me about you.”

Emerie was more than happy to share details about herself, and found herself preening a little bit that Nesta seemed to like what she was hearing. Emerie was more than happy to talk about her marketing job, but the real fun started when they realized they had similar tastes in books. They easily killed another twenty minutes just talking about the newest Sellyn Drake release, and Emerie couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled and laughed so much talking to a stranger.

As much fun as they were having, though, the night eventually had to come to a close. Clare came by to drop off the check and Emerie had to hold in a sigh as she realized she and Nesta would probably be parting ways in the next ten to fifteen minutes.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” Nesta said, grabbing the check before Emerie could even take a look at what they owed. Emerie opened her mouth to argue, but Nesta fixed her with a look that made her close her mouth almost immediately. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fine,” Emerie said back. “But next time’s on me.”

“Mhmm,” Nesta replied, though the playful look in her eyes told a different story. Emerie couldn’t wait to tell Gwyn about all this.

Once they settled their tab, they ended up outside and walking down the street. Nesta had driven to the bar after work, but Emerie had taken the train, so she offered to walk Nesta to her car. It was the opposite direction from the closest station, but she didn’t mind a few extra minutes if it meant she could spend them with Nesta.

“Thanks for saving me, Emerie,” Nesta said once they got to her car. Her hand had brushed Emerie’s a few times during the walk and Emerie swore her skin was tingling a little bit. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“You’re very welcome,” Emerie said back, seriously distracted by the way her name sounded coming out of Nesta’s mouth. “I’m happy to rescue you anytime you want, Nesta.”

“Is that what you did?” Nesta teased. She cocked her head ever so slightly and Emerie fell a little in love with the way her hair looked brushing across her shoulders when she did. “Those are some strong words.”

“I feel strongly about it,” Emerie replied, stepping just a little closer into Nesta’s personal space. Nesta was just an inch or two shorter than Emerie, and as a woman on the taller side, it was nice to not have to look too far down when they were speaking.

Nesta’s eyes darted quickly to Emerie’s lips and back up. “Is that the only thing you feel strongly about?”

“No,” Emerie whispered, and then she was leaning down while Nesta was leaning slightly up. Nesta’s lips were soft against Emerie’s, her kiss slow and sweet and absolutely perfect. Emerie brought her hand up to gently cup the side of Nesta’s face and was immediately rewarded with one of Nesta’s hands plunging into her hair.

“Okay, okay,” Nesta said after a few minutes, smiling as she pulled back from Emerie. Her lips were a little pink from where they’d been kissing, and Emerie knew she’d never get that image out of her mind. “It’s tempting, but we can’t be out here all night.”

“Whatever you say, counselor,” Emerie teased, even though they both knew Nesta wasn’t that kind of lawyer. “Can I at least have your phone number so we can see each other again?”

“I was starting to think you’d never ask,” Nesta responded. She pulled out her phone and offered it to Emerie, waiting patiently while Emerie typed in her number. Emerie triple-checked to make sure it was right – no way was she letting Nesta get away from her over something as simple as a mixed-up phone number – before handing it back over.

“I’ll text you,” Nesta promised, leaning in for one last kiss before starting to walk toward the driver’s side of her car. “Have a good night, Emerie.”

“You too,” Emerie replied, taking a few steps back from the edge of the sidewalk. 

As Emerie started to head toward the train, she couldn’t help but touch her fingers to her still-warm lips. Whatever she’d done to get so lucky to suddenly be living out a romance novel, she certainly wasn’t complaining.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen

[cilliansdove]

SHOUTING || tommy shelby fanfic ( part 2 )

pairings : tommy shelby x fem/reader

warnings : angst

rating : 16+

a/n: This is my writing and I take full credit for it so please do not copy x paste/rewrite the writing. You may repost/like/comment etc. Enjoy reading!!

part1 finalpart

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A day had passed since I had spoken to Frances. And it seemed that recently, it was only her and Polly that I could trust.

“You look different, Love,” Polly greeted, “Get your hair done, did ya’?”

I smiled at her and nodded, “Does it look alright? I was worried I got it done too short,” I shrugged.

Polly had always been there for me. Through everything. No matter the situation she always had something to say.

“It looks perfect on you, my girl,” Polly frowned, “Now don’t lie to me, Y/n, what’s happened? Your eyes are all puffy.”

Fuck sakes, Polly.

The tears began to pool in my eyes and she pulled me into her chest, “I don’t know what to do?” I questioned myself.

“Are you pregnant?” She queried.

“No, no, not pregnant,” I paused, trying to find the right words, “He…Tommy doesn’t love me anymore,” I sniffed.

It felt almost embarrassing to admit it. Especially to the woman who was like a mother. She knew everything about everyone. In particular, she knew a lot about Tommy and I.

Polly cradled me into her chest, “My dear girl, Tommy will always love you. In order to know that he does, I think leaving may be the best decision for you. Not forever. Just for awhile,” Polly stroked the back of my head, smoothing down my hair, “And when he calls, to say he misses your absence and calls to tell you he still loves you and needs you. Then. And only then. Do you come back.”

The fact Polly had to tell me this, broke my heart. I should of never fallen for Tommy. No.

He used to be so kind, so sweet. But within the days and weeks of business, he slowly became a bitter man. And whilst his face held such coldness, it was clear his insides didn’t. Sometimes I wish they did though.

My tears had dropped and smudged onto Polly’s clothing, “I don’t wanna leave you, Pol,” I cried.

I had no other family around. Everyone had gone. Or, was gone, at least. I didn’t have a single clue as to where they were.

“Stay here then. In secret. Nobody will be able to know though, Y/n, else none of this will work,” she lifted my chin up to look at her, “Do you understand?”

Nodding, I pressed my head to her shoulder and cried.

That’s all I remember doing for a week onwards. I cried, and cried, and cried.

The phone didn’t ring once. The house was silent whilst Polly was out. And I stayed at home, alone. Isolated myself in a confined room. Curtains, closed. Bed, messy. I hadn’t even brushed my hair once.

It felt as though I’d never get myself out. I hadn’t seen the sunrise or the sunset in a week. An entire seven days of pure darkness.

He didn’t care. It was obvious. So much for a husband.

Polly slammed into my room, “Y/n, it’s Tommy.”

My breathing increased at the sound of his name, “What about him? Why should I care?” I shrugged. Tears had fallen for a good seven days. Non-stop. I couldn’t even feel them anymore.

And those tears became silent too.

“No, no, Y/n. He’s not here,” Polly sighed, “He’s in hospital. And he really isn’t doing well, Love.”

I shook my head. I didn’t care a minute ago, why would I care now, “I don’t care, Polly! He doesn’t care about me so why should I just because he got himself stuck in hospital, ay?!”

I didn’t mean to shout. Guess that’s what seven days in darkness does to you.

“Besides, I’d probably bring him to the brink of death if I ever saw him again. I regret not hurting him the same way he hurt me.”

Polly rolled her tongue around her mouth, “You may not think it’s serious, Y/n. But the entire family is worried,” I stared at her. Silently.

“For fuck sakes, Y/n! Would you just-”

My telephone rang.

“You answer it.”

Polly shook her head, “You know who that is, you need to do it.”

I waited for Polly to leave the room, and picked up the phone, just to lay almost dead on the floor.

“Y/n? You there, Love?”

Tommy.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” I fought back the tears, angry tears, that were ready to fall.

“It’s not up for discussion,” he coughed, “I need to see you. Come.”

I laughed down the line, “Why the fuck should I come and see you, Tom?! You have done nothing but hurt me and yet I’m meant to continue to support you? Fuck off.”

I scoffed and hung up before I got the chance to hear what he said.

Tommy rang for me another three times before he gave up.

Polly had left again. Probably to see that beast of a man.

My bedroom door was flung open again. With Polly and someone else?

No.

“I told you we needed to speak,” Tommy approached me and I crawled backwards till my back hit the bed. So much for the hospital. Maybe I was lied to about him being hurt, again.

His presence itself was making me panic, “Stop coming closer.”

“Stop fighting me.”

He picked me up so I could stand. But then tried to embrace me.

“No, no, no! No, Thomas! You do not get to come here and try make amends. I don’t want you anymore,” I sobbed out. I couldn’t possibly love someone like him anymore. He was disloyal, lied, cheated, fucking everything, “Just get out.”

His face stayed cold. As per usual.

“I’m not leaving. Why would I? You’re my wife and you’re pushing me away.”

I gasped at his views, “Me? Pushing you away? I’m not the one who didn’t notice my new hair, or new anything. Or the fact I was drained and tired of your bullshit, Thomas! That’s all on you not me. So don’t come here to blame me for the shit that’s your fault.”

“I had busine-”

I cut him off sick of the crap, “Yeah, business! That’s all you ever have. Or is it? I’m pretty sure you have the barmaid all to yourself too. Maybe she should be your wife instead as I’m sure you’d much rather prefer that.”

He stared at me with an open mouth not knowing what else to say, “What?” I laughed, “You really thought I would never find out.”

“Y/n, that, it- I don’t know what to say to you.”

I pushed him slowly away by his chest, “You don’t have to say anything to me, Shelby. You can just leave.”

He didn’t turn his back. He just took two steps. Two fucking steps out the door. And left.

I was numb. I stared at the blank space where he was stood just mere seconds ago and suddenly ran to the doorway and down the stairs.

But my body was weak. It wasn’t used to walking let alone running. And so I collapsed.

Collapsed into the wall of the bend of the stairs. And hit my head, clearly.

Tommy hadn’t left when it happened, so all I can guess is that it was him who helped. But I don’t know. I only heard a few words before I passed out.

“You lay a single finger on that girl, and I’ll blind you myself, Thomas.”