#i always edit my pieces after their finished one way or another so this is a nightmare

[a-h-li]

al animation practice for an upcoming animatic :]

And a sneak peak for that story board:

one sided radiostatic ftw

Ambitious but hopefully it will be 4 min long and fully colored

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Chance

A co-workers, enemies to friends piece for you guys!!

Warnings: mentions of cheating, rude/snippy remarks, alcohol use

WC: like 3-4k?

If there was anyone that frustrated the living daylights out of you in the office, it was Harry. You swore that God had designed him with the sole purpose of irritating you. You didn’t hate him, you didn’t know him that well. But you didn’t get on well with him; you were just opposites and often times had opposing views or solutions for things. He wasn’t lazy but he distracted everyone all the time because he finished his work quite fast. Like now… 

You bit your lip, trying to hold back from saying something as he and your cubicle neighbor, Adam, laughed loudly about something. It was hard to concentrate on your editing with this racket! Music distracted you instead of help you concentrate, so you didn’t want to put on headphones, you really needed the quiet. After another minute of their commotion you shot up from your seat and went over to the little stool you had against your shared wall with Adam and stepped on so you could peer over the division.

“Can you two shut it, please? I have a last minute thing to do and the deadline’s in an hour!” You implored with a frown on your face and they both glanced over to you, smiling fading.

“Yeah. Sorry, Y/N.”, “Sorry.” They both mumbled before you clambered down and went back to your seat. 

Harry wasn’t a dick, if things got to a point like this, where you had to say something to him, he always apologized. You had no idea why you suddenly developed this dislike towards him, but you just did and you could tell it bothered him. You sighed when you heard two gentle knocks on the frosted glass sliding door of your divider.

“What?” You asked monotonously and when there was no response you rolled your chair over and opened it up, startling Harry who was scribbling on a sticky note now. “What is it, Harry?”

“Nothing, just wanted to apologize again for the noise.” He offered another apology and you just nodded once. “Ummm…so what piece are you editing?” He asked, taking a step closer to you and you sighed.

“Harry, all the time I waste chatting with you about work is time I could spend actually doing my work.” You pointed out and he nodded.

“Right.” He hummed with a tight lipped smile before he took off without another word. You bit your lip nervously, feeling a bit bad over the way you’d dealt with this situation. You’d been rude for no reason and seeing him leaving all defeated like that made you feel like shit.

“That was harsh.” Adam said, peering over the division and you glanced over at him and nodded.

“I know. I’ll make it right later.” You assured him and he smiled and nodded. You got on well with Adam, you wouldn’t say you were close but you were friends, he was the one that bought you the stool to be able to look over the 6 foot division between the two of you. You could have lunch or get drinks after work sometimes and carry conversations, and more importantly, you could hold each other accountable. Whether that was in your personal conversations or with things at work.

“Good.” He said and then went to sit down again. 

With the peace and quiet you were able to finish editing before the hour deadline came and the most stressful part of your day was over. You hated when the did last minute changes or additions to the magazine but it was part of the job. You couldn’t imagine how much more stressful it’d be to work for the newspaper or even for the TV where changes could be made in real time! So you let go of that frustrating part of your morning and then went to lunch. You stopped by the coffee shop around the corner and got Harry an iced, Vanilla Cinnamon latte. It was the office favorite and the perfect peace offering. So you made your way over to Harry’s cubicle with the little note you had scribbled preemptively (you were hoping he was still on lunch because confrontation was hard) but you saw him sitting there just scrolling through his phone. You bit your lip and stuffed the note in your pocket before knocking on the frame of the sliding door.

“Harry?” You said as you knocked and he turned around. When he saw it was you, he straightened up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted you with a half-smile.

“Hey.” You said nervously, “Ummm, s-sorry for being rude to you earlier. I was annoyed and I took it out on you and Adam.” You explained, “Well, mostly on you.” You added.

“That’s alright, last minute additions are a pain.” He said and you nodded, relieved at his understanding.

“Yeah…so I ummm, got you this.” You said extending the drink to him, “It’s the vanilla cinnamon one that everyone seems to love.” You shared and he smiled at you.

“Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to.” He thanked you and you shook your head.

“It’s nothing really.” You assured him, “Just a peace offering.” You said and he nodded.

“Well thanks again.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Sorry again for earlier.” You said before hurrying off to your desk.

It was maybe 20 minutes later when you went to the kitchenette to grab some more water when you saw two of the girls from campaigning sitting at the table in there. The one called Destiny looked giddier than ever as she sipped on a latte, a latte that when she set it down had Harry’s name written in black sharpie. He had regifted your peace offering?! You were livid and felt betrayed! Maybe you had pushed him too far this time and he disliked you now too! You couldn’t help it when you mouth opened to ask her about it.

“H-hey Destiny, did someone do a coffee run?” You asked her and she shook her head and smiled cheerfully.

“No, Harry got it for me over lunch. Said he knew I liked these. He’s so sweet!” She said and you were holding off an eye-twitch.

“Wow, so sweet.” You said and then rushed back out without your water. You started to storm over to his area but then stopped yourself. You didn’t like him and he clearly didn’t like you, which was fine. This was fine and yes, your feelings were hurt, but you’d done the same to him and well, a coffee was nothing compared to hurt feelings so you just trudged back to your desk and sat with a huff.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Adam ask from his cubicle.

“Nothing, just forgot to grab water before coming back.” You said and he hummed.

“I’ll be back…” you mumbled before heading back to the kitchen. You were filling up your water bottle when Harry walked in, humming a familiar little tune.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” He greeted you with pep and you turned to him.

“Harry. Did you enjoy your coffee?”

“I did, thank you! It’s not a favorite for nothing!” He said with a smile and you hummed.

“Well good. It’s a lot of people’s favorite here.” You said and he nodded with a smile, but he sensed the awkwardness emanating from you.

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled again as you held eye contact with him for a few seconds and you just walked out without another word. 

…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….

It had been a few days and you were still upset that Harry had regifted the coffee you’d bought him. And more than that, it irked you that now he thought you were friends. He’d say hello everyone morning and you’d just respond half-heartedly. He knew better than to strike up conversation while you were in the zone, so to him this was just you acting like you always did. And to you, well he was just lying and being fake, which made you like him even less. All of this was affecting you far more than you cared to admit. It really struck you with awe just how easily he had the others fooled! It was around lunch time when you contacted your best friend, Nina, to see if she wanted to meet up for drinks she agreed and now you had something to look forward to for the rest of the work day.

It was 7 on the dot when you walked in to the bar you’d agreed upon. It was a little bit up-scale, so you’d gone home and changed and done up your makeup a little bit more. Thankfully, the bar top had two open spots so you hurried over and set your purse down on the empty stool to reserve it for Nina. It wasn’t odd that Nina was late, after she had her daughter she was constantly running 15-30 minutes behind everyone. It was annoying but you knew that being a mom was also annoying sometimes, it was a full-time thing, 365/24/7. No days off. Around the 32 minute mark you got a text from her stating that the baby had a fever and she couldn’t leave her with her boyfriend, who was also sick. You sighed and then raised your hand to get the bartender.

“Ready?” He asked as he walked over.

“Yeah, just the espresso martini.” You said.

“Got it. Open or closed tab?”

“Just leave it open.” You said and he nodded before taking your card and setting that up. 

You texted Nina back and then just looked around the bar, it was more full now and there were people waiting to sit, so you decided now was a good time to remove your things from the neighboring high chair. And as you gave one more look around the room your eyes landed on none other than Harry Styles. He looked relieved to see you and started making his way over to you. You sighed and turned to face the bar again, but moments later you heard his voice.

“Y/N!” He greeted you.

“Harry.” You mumbled, staring straight ahead.

“Can I…touch you?” He asked and you whipped around quickly, thanking the interior designers that these chairs spun.

“What?!”

“Can I touch you, not in a creepy way! Just, like a hand on your waist or hip?” He asked.

“You may not.” You scoffed.

“Oh my god, please! I ran into my ex outside and she already has another boyfriend! I told her I was seeing someone too because I…felt sad and jealous that she moved on and when he gets here and she gets inside I don’t want to look like a fool.” He explained and you pouted a bit. You knew about about exes that made you feel bad about yourself.

“Fine.” You sighed, “This seat is not gonna be taken anymore so just hop on.” You mumbled and he thanked you as he sat.

“So did you get stood up?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it was by my friend, not a date. Her baby is running a fever.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” 

“Yep.” You hummed and then moments later your drink came and Harry ordered the same. Which then reminded you of why you were so annoyed at him. 

“Hey, I also wanted to ask, maybe this is not the time and place to have this conversation, but do you…have a problem with me?” He asked and you turned to him.

“Not really, I just…don’t mesh with you.” You said simply and he frowned. Everyone meshed with Harry. He was an air sign, he was freewheeling and fun and kind and creative!

“Well, why not?” 

“I don’t know, I just don’t like your manner of doing things. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I mean you’re getting things done and everyone likes the outcome of your work, it’s just the way you go about it. It doesn’t work for me. It’s not personal, Harry.”

“You make it personal though.” He said and you frowned.

“I don’t.”

“You do.” He insisted, “I’ve left it alone because you’re just how you are and everyone tells me that it’s not me, that you’re just…a certain way, but I don’t know you that well so…” he trailed off and you frowned.

“You talk about me to other people?” 

“Sometimes…just to ask if they’ve heard you say anything about me, you know? Not to talk badly of you. But sometimes people come to me about it. I mean, it’s not like they don’t see the difference of how you treat them versus me.” He said and your brows furrowed. You thought your dislike towards him was discrete but everyone knew apparently.

“And everyone thinks I’m…a bitch?” You asked and he bit his lip nervously.

“I’ve never said that to anyone by the way, but people have…used that term from time to time.” He explained and you frowned, “I know we don’t know each other all that well but to me it just seems you’re just…a grump. Not a…well, you know.” He shrugged.

“Hey Harry!” You both heard and spun around to see who you presumed was his ex standing there with a tall man on her arm. She was breathtaking. You weren’t insecure about your looks all that often, but right now you were. You swear you’d seen this woman in some ad on the internet before.

“Hi Eden, nice to see you again.” He smiled.

“Yeah, we ran into each other outside.” She explained, “This is Gerard, my boyfriend.” She introduced him, “He models too.” She said and you and Harry both nodded.

“I’d imagine so!” Harry smiled easily. You were impressed at his composure after he admitted to you that he felt sad and jealous about this minutes before. Your irritation and insecurity would’ve flared far too easily and you would’ve made a fool of yourself. “Nice to meet you, Gerard.” He said extending his hand and shook it. “This is Y/N, my date tonight.” He said and then you felt Eden’s scrutinizing gaze down your face and body.

“Mmmm, kinda cute, I guess.” She said with a hint of snark and your eyes narrowed at her.

“Like those shoes!” You said with a sardonic smile and her mouth dropped open a bit, “We were kind of in the middle of an important conversation, so if you’re done trying to flaunt Gerard to your ex maybe it’s time you go find a seat.” You said and she just groaned and pulled Gerard along. Moments later Harry started laughing and you held back your smile as you turned back towards the bar.

“Oh, that was funny.” He chuckled, “Thanks for that.” He said to you with a smile and you maintained your serious facade.

“S’nothing, she was too condescending. And that poor man, being dragged into her games.”

“Either way, thank you. Standing up to her is not an easy feat.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

“Yeah…she was mean spirited and she cheated on me so-”

“Oh, that’s awful, Harry! I’m sorry.”

“Well at least she’s with him now and it wasn’t some rando.” He said and you shook your head.

“I guess but only an awful person betrays someone like that and it’s not worth you feeling sad or jealous over.” You stated firmly and glanced back at him and he was smiling a bit, “Or well…that’s my opinion about it.” You shrugged, sounding a bit less secure now that he was staring into your eyes.

“Well, thanks for that. I think I minimize it to…not feel so badly about it.” He explained and you hummed and reached for your drink again.

Everything you’d thought of Harry up until this point was the opposite of what he seemed to be. His constant need for socializing had you thinking he had no self awareness, but his priori statement made you realize that he did have it. Maybe you’d just judged him far too harshly for absolutely nothing. And well, no one likes to admit that they’re wrong…but you were wrong about him. But sadly, he wasn’t wrong about you and it made your smile fall.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“It’s nothing.” You assured.

“Hey, tell me. The least I could do is listen after you retrieved my balls from the dragon guarding them.” He chuckled and you smirked, “Sorry for being crass but I mean…that’s what it was.” He said.

“I concluded that I have been wrong about you this whole time but you haven’t been wrong about me and that’s…it’s sad.” You said.

“It’s not like you’re a bad person. You’re just…irritable.” He said with a smile and you sighed.

“I try not to be…and like it’s not like in a condescending way. I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I just…I’ve always had a hard time relating to other people. Like I’m not into the same things as everyone so I can’t join in on conversations a lot and it does upset me. But now everyone things I’m this kill joy and a raging bitch!” You said through a laugh of disbelief.

“I mean…what you did for me the other day? With the coffee?” He asked and then your smile fell again.

“You mean the coffee you regifted to Destiny?” You asked and he sighed. “I saw her with it in the kitchen. She said you bought it for her.” You said with an accusatory tone, “That…hurt my feelings.” You confessed. It felt like you were choking on sand, admitting that to him but it had been something you couldn’t move past.

“Okay, there’s an explanation.” Harry said, “I’m lactose intolerant and when I tried it I realized it wasn’t lactose free and I would get sick if I drank it. I didn’t want to throw it away and risk you seeing it in a garbage can. So I…gave it to the person who sat further away from you and told her a little white lie about it.” He explained and you couldn’t be upset at that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright. I appreciated the gesture though! A lot! I thought maybe that meant we could start to be a little more chummy, you know?”

“I thought so too until I saw you regifted it.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah…I should’ve said something then or asked. But I just assumed you knew. Usually when we group order I’m the only other person who gets a cold brew black-”

“Oh! I’m the other person who orders that!” You said excitedly and he grinned.

“Yeah? I mean, good coffee doesn’t need anything in my opinion. It has a whole flavor profile on its own!”

“Agreed!” You concurred and he smiled.

“See, there’s one thing in common.” He added and you hummed and smiled.

The rest of the evening with Harry was pleasant. After all of the unpleasantness you’d put him though you picked up his tab too and assured him that next time he could get you and well, he was pleased that there’d be a next time.

Harry was glad you two had a breakthrough. He was walking back to his car and was feeling for his keys in his pockets when he realized they weren’t there. He circled back to the bar and no one had turned anything in and they weren’t where you two sat or in the bathroom. So he hurried out to his car and upon peering in with his phone light on he saw them sitting in the cup holder. He groaned as he recalled that he’d seen Eden walking down the sidewalk when he was about to get out of the car.

“Shit…” he mumbled and then dialed your number.

“Hey Harry!” You answered right away as you had just gotten to the intersection.

“Hey, I hate to do this but I locked my keys in my car and my insurance thing is in there too and if I call a random tow they’ll charge me an arm and a leg…”

“Yeah, no worries ummm, I can circle back I’m just down the street.” You assured, “Did you need to stay over as well?” You asked.

“Only if you’re fine with that! If not I could see who’s up and can let me crash!”

“No that’s alright, my couch is very comfy.” You assured him.

“Okay, thank you so much! I parked around the corner on 4th.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” You assured and hung up.

Minutes later he was getting into your car, thanking you profusely for helping him out. He was searching through his emails for his insurance agent’s contact to give him a call in the morning, and thankfully he found it. He explained it wasn’t any of the bigger insurance companies since those were too pricey. So he ran everything by this guy to ensure that things would get covered by his policy if and when he ran into any issues. You fully understood this and chatted about it a bit more until you were at your apartment.

Once you got in you assured him he could borrow some stuff from your ex boyfriend that’d been left behind and got him a spare toothbrush too and he went off to get showered and changed while you made up the couch for him. You waited for him to get out and then headed back out with two pillows.

“Hey, ummm soft or firm?” You asked him.

“Whichever one you don’t use.” He smiled.

“Oh no, I have like 6 pillows, you choose the one you prefer.” You assured.

“Firm, please.”

“Alright, here you are.” You said walking it over to him.

“Y/N, seriously, thank you for tonight. For all of it.” He said softly.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. It’s the least I can do after being a huge bitch to you for nothing.”

“It’s not because you’re trying to make things up to me. It’s because you’re a nice person.” He said and you smiled a bit and glanced away, “Hey, you are.”

“After everything I’ve done to you and how I’ve treated you, you believe that?”

“I do. I also believe in second chances.”

“Hopefully not with cheating exes…” you added with a timid smirk and he grinned.

“Yeah, definitely not.” He said, gaze still locked on yours. You felt this tension rising between you, it was all of the good things mixed with all the past irritations and it was making your brain cloudy. “Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

“How mad would you be if I tried to kiss you right now?” He asked and you couldn’t tell if he was kidding around or being sincere.

“Ummm…I don’t…know.” You got out nervously, “Let’s just get to bed.” You said and he nodded, “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Good night.” He responded and you hurried off to your bedroom. You also washed off your body and got ready for bed and as you finally settled in your phone pinged with a text message.

Harry Styles:

How do I turn off the light?

You smiled and got out of bed and went over to find him already cuddled up on the couch and he glanced over at you.

“Sorry couldn’t find the switch.”

“It’s on this remote.” You said reaching for it on the coffee table.

“Oh, fancy.”

“Right!” You grinned and handed it over. “You can change the settings too if you don’t want it pitch black.” You said and he nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” You said and started walking off before you stopped at the entrance of the hallway. You went back and leaned over him before kissing his cheek gently. His eyes fluttered shut and he smiled for a second before you pulled back. “Sorry.” You whispered.

“That’s alright.” He assured you and you bit your lip nervously before hurrying back down the hall. You closed the door and leaned back on it with a pounding heart and a smile on your face. You were so happy you had given him a chance tonight.

>> NEXT PART >>

[devilmademewriteit]

Javier Peña & Joel Miller Headcanons (drabbles?)

another smutty edition. ohmygod this is filth.

warnings: rough sex/smut (oh boy. oral [both receiving], fingering, masturbation, cockwarming… & prolly more) so 18+ only content; stepdad!joel (againimsorry); dbf!joel; slapping, spanking, spitting; age gap; bratty!reader; smoking; petnames (sweetheart, angel, babygirl, baby) dubcon (coercion, intoxication, imbalanced power dynamic); like I said this is just pure filth—dead dove, do not eat.

Thank u guys for all the love on the last one !! I’ve got longer pieces coming soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this depravity based on yalls requests!! I’m going to hell!!

Join the taglist if you want moreeeeeee.

-em<3

—

Javi’s “boredom breaks” at work involved stealing you from behind your desk & coaxing you into giving him head from the passenger side of his Jeep Cherokee. Parked or driving, busy street or deserted parking lot, it was all the same to him—which meant onlookers, inevitably. Peña was indispensable at the embassy, so the voyeurs didn’t bother him, and he assured you that “nobody’s gonna recognize the receptionist by the back of her fuckin’ head.” In a dusty, empty side-street, Javier’s cock rhythmically prods the back of your throat. With one hand straddling the back of your neck, he grinds out a “fuck yeah, jus’ like that,” between deep pulls off his cigarette, ashing it out the open window with a quick flick of his fingernail.

“It’s fuckin’ hot, watching you take calls from all those corporate big-shots when I know you still got the taste of my cum on your tongue.”

Joel’s favourite position was doggy-style. Especially with both your hands pinned behind your back in his much larger, much stronger one; especially when your teasing had earned you some good-old-fashioned discipline. “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta you.” He’d pull out every time, even when you begged him not to, all so he could watch his hot seed spilling onto the red handprints branding your ass. But that always happened after he took in the swooping arch of your back, the way your skin yielded to his with every lazy slap he delivered to it—and, oh, your muffled sobs following his: “tell me—where’s that fuckin’ attitude get you?”

“S’right, sweetheart. Gets you on your knees, takin’ cock facedown like a lil’ slut.”

Sometimes, Javier just wanted to watch. “Show me, hermosa, how do you touch yourself when I’m away?” He’d relax in the armchair, an attentive audience member as he drank in the sight of you spread out on the bed, sliding a hand between your thighs. Those dark eyes never left yours, not even when he had to palm himself through his denim to relieve the aching desire building underneath. “Can tell you’ve been practicing for me.” & you’d finish with his name on your tongue, taking care to put every detail of your climax on display for him.

“You could be fuckin’ famous, y’know. I could film you just like that—my very own pornstar.”

One late-night in your father’s living room, you worked up the nerve to ask Joel to take your virginity so that it’d “be with someone who I like, who’ll take good care of me.” & he did such a good job, easing in oh-so-slowly, searching your eyes for any ounce of pain as he stretched you wide, wiiide open for him. “Fuck, maybe m’not the best person for this, sweetheart,” and it might’ve been true ‘cause his cock was almost too big to fit, squeezing in so, so tight between your fluttering walls. But eventually, it did, and then your dad’s best friend was rocking into you, muffling your soft cries of surprise, pain, pleasure, lust, abandon, and need in his palm.

“Sshh, sshh, s’alright, baby, s’alright. Jus’ focus on me, yeah? ‘Else your dad’s gonna find out I broke in his lil’ princess.”

Javi had never considered himself to be a jealous man. He was something of a sexual communist: cheating wasn’t cheating if it was just fucking, girlfriends were made to be shared, and only a self-denying idiot turned down any version of a threesome. But after that first time with you? That was all over. He’d have you straddling his lap on the brink of explosion, cunt dripping onto his bare thighs before finally lowering you onto every hard inch of himself—only to keep you still, his personal lil’ cockwarmer. “Tell me you’re mine, baby, tell me this pussy’s mine.” Saying the words wasn’t always enough for either of you to actually believe them, so Javi would fuck you—hard—until they were true, until he was certain that you belonged to him. Till he tore cries of worship from your lips and orgasms from your cunt.

“I know, querida, feels so good to surrender, don’t it?”

Stepdad!Joel picking you up from a party in his big ol’ truck with a couple of his drinking buddies tagging along. This time, he lets you sit in the front. “Ain’t she a stunner?” Blushing as the others mumble in agreement. Soon, Joel’s rough hand is crawling up your thigh. “We thought up a way you could thank us for the ride, angel.” Your cunt warms at the feel of his fingers slipping between your folds. It starts to pulse at the idea of being filled so full by 3 men at once, and it nearly aches at the thought of pleasing Joel. “You’re a big girl now, ain’t that right?” Parking the car, pulling you onto his lap, bunching your shirt up above your tits and exposing you to a car-full of leering eyes.

“N’ big girls take care of more’n just one cock at a time, sweetheart.”

It was obvious from the start that Peña, Murphy, and (especially) Carrillo didn’t abide by any kind of rule book in the field. It shocked you, nonetheless, the first time you watched Agent Peña put a bullet through a sicario‘s head. “We’re the good guys, sweetheart.” But it didn’t feel that way. For months, it didn’t feel that way, and you refused to be alone in a room with him. Not because he scared you, but because you were afraid of how his gratuitous violence had excited you. You managed to avoid him, until, one afternoon, he cornered you in the filing room—like a writhing tail caught in a mousetrap—his amused expression underpinned by a familiar kind of danger.

“You wanna pretend I’m the bad guy? S’fine, querida, I can live with that. But your pussy’s wet just thinkin’ about it, so at least have the decency to let me fuck you like one.”

When Joel ate you out, it was always as a reward. He liked doing it, of course, but he was an impatient man who worshipped the feel of a woman’s cunt wrapped around his cock (he’d cut blowjobs short for god’s sake, pulling you mid-gag off his length just to fuck you, instead). You memorized how pretty he looked with his head between your thighs, grey-speckled beard glistening with your very own slick. “F’you keep squirmin’ around like that, angel, m’gonna have to tie you up. Stay put.” Thighs hitched over his broad shoulders, voice hoarse from the never-ending moans his mouth and his fingers enticed from you over and over and over again. “Been such a good listener, baby,” and your fingers ran through his hair, streams of freshwater gushing between great, snow-flecked pines. But the best part came after: even his praise didn’t compare to the feel of his thumb against your chin, prying you open as he spat a wad of saliva onto your tongue.

“Open up for me, tha’s right. Y’see how good that pretty lil’ pussy tastes?”

Bonus fluff/angst:

He’d never meant to hurt you, of course. Javi wasn’t the greatest at the whole ~relationship~ thing, and even though you hadn’t defined whatever it was that, together, you shared, it still hurt like hell, finding out he was still screwing around. He hadn’t broken any promises, per se, but your crestfallen expression made him feel as though he’d committed a federal offence. “Baby, if I’da known…” and he’s kneeling down, (praying at the foot of your altar), gazing up at you with plea-filled, onyx black eyes before pressing his forehead to your abdomen, holding your hips between his hands as if you were sacred to him.

“I just… I need you like the fuckin’ air I breathe, hermosa. I hate myself for hurting you.”

You’d always had a bit of a school girl crush on dad’s best friend, Joel. Who could blame you? He was capable, funny, handsome—and oh, how you hated bringing friends over while he was in the house, too, ‘cause they giggled and flirted with him and it made you livid. This time, you actually had to step into the garage and light up a sneaky smoke just to find some fucking peace again. That’s where he found you, leaning defeatedly against the beer fridge; you frantically put the smoking tip out, cursing yourself for your carelessness. Joel raised his eyebrows at the cigarette before smiling in amusement. Then, he surprised you by pressing a big, warm, tender palm to your cheek.

“You’re always gonna be my favourite. You know that, right?”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @maudlinflowers @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @buckysmainhxe @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal

[janeyseymour]

If your still doing request, maybe Y/N is crushing on Melissa, and leaves her a secret admirer gift on Valentine’s Day, due to wanting Melissa to be happy/have some happiness after the whole Gary disaster.

stop i loved writing this one! thank you for the prompt! As per usual: not edited in the slightest and praying it's good enough!

When There is Love, There is Life...

WC: ~4.7k

Since Melissa broke up with Gary, she’s been… not herself. She’s been down and out, quiet, resigned. She doesn’t have her usual fire or bite that you’ve come to know and love. And you completely understand why. She was with Gary for a couple of years, and she was perfectly content with him (as much as that pained you to see). The redhead could see her spending the rest of her days with him as a boyfriend, life partner… whatever you wanted to label it as so long as that label wasn’t “husband”. She made that very clear. And then, like a fool, he went and ruined it despite the fact that she had told him she didn’t want to get married again. He proposed, and he lost her because of it. In that, she lost a piece of herself.

It didn’t help that Valentine’s day was just around the corner either. Perfect timing for a breakup that would be humiliatingly public and change her life more than she was willing to admit.

So when she isn’t quite herself, you understand why. Everyone at the school understands why she’s been different. 

Your colleagues have all offered different supports for her. Barbara was there when she needed a glass of wine, Jacob and Janine were there when the second grade teacher wanted to cook for someone, Gregory had taken her to a kickboxing place where she could get her aggressions out, Mr. Johnson brought in bunch of old plates and bowls for her to destroy in any way she would choose (she chose her emotional support baseball bat), even Ava was able to help by taking her out to a club to dance. 

What had you done? Not much else other than offer her gentle words of support and provide small, sweet gestures to remind her that she had a village to help take care of her. You promised her that it was all going to be okay. You gave her small, shy smiles when you felt that she needed one, and she had even come to you for a hug one day when she was in desperate need of physical touch and her work wife had taken off a bit early to attend a doctor’s appointment with her husband. If you noticed that she was dragging, you would take it upon yourself to make another pot of coffee and bring her a mug of the warm beverage just the way that she liked it prepared. 

You were there for her in ways that were small to you, but they made the biggest differences to her. While she surely appreciated the things that everybody else did for it, it was a bit of a one and done kind of deal to offer their supports initially, but your kind and thoughtful actions carried on as the days passed on. It made her feel taken care of in a way that she hadn’t felt in a while, even when she was with Gary.

“Any plans for Valentine’s day?” Jacob asks the group one day during lunch, and you can see the way that Melissa’s face immediately turns solemn. You knew that her and Gary were going to go out to a nice steakhouse on the fourteenth, but that plan was obviously shot now that they weren’t together.

“Gregory and I are going out to BoneTown together since we’re both single,” Janine jumps in. “It’ll be… nice.”

“Nice,” Gregory hums. “Yeah.”

“Zach and I are going out to this one new tofu spot that I’ve been dying to try,” Jacob grins. “It’ll be good. Then we’ll probably head home and have a few glasses of wine before retiring for the night… What about you Barb?”

“Gerald and I are going back to that one restaurant at the airport that we liked so much last year,” Barbara tells the crew. “Melissa, you know you’re always welcome to join us.”

“I ain’t gonna crash your Valentine’s Day plans with Gerald,” she sighs softly. “I’ll Probably finish off a bottle of wine on my own. Don’t got much else to do these days.”

You lay a gentle hand over hers and attempt to pour as much comfort and love into that small gesture as you can. “I don’t really have plans either,” you shrug. “So if you want, we can have Galentine’s day and finish off a bottle of wine together.”

The redhead gives you a sad smile. “Thanks for the offer, hun.”

As the days leading up to Valentine’s Day come and go, you see the way that the rest of your colleagues get small little gestures from their partners. It’s sweet- it isn’t just one day to go all out and celebrate love, but instead a reminder that love is always around and that there should always be an appreciation for your partner through life. Even Gregory and Janine have gone back to flirting, and he’s doing small little things for her.

As Barbara gets a small bouquet of flowers delivered to her in the break room, you see the way that Melissa’s body deflates.

“Wow,” she whispers. “Those are gorgeous.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You really don’t know how to make her feel better through this one, so you simply top off her coffee with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

She reaches up and sets her hand over yours with a sad, resigned, smile.

When lunch is over, you head back to your classroom with your kids and give them five minutes to regroup themselves before you begin your lessons again for the rest of the day.

And in those five minutes, you research different flower arrangements that you could possibly send to the redhead who is so down this season. You’re able to find a site that you like, and you bookmark it for later when the kids have gone home and you actually have time to go over the different selections that this place has to offer.

The rest of the day goes by relatively normally, with the slight hiccup of Jamal spilling his juice all over himself and having to go down to the nurse to get another change of clothes while you get on your hands and knees to wipe up the mess with the paper towels that never seem to absorb anything but only spread the liquid around instead. With a sigh, you simply throw a rather large wad of paper towels over the area and give up, telling your students to be especially careful in this area.

The kids leave for the day, giving you lots of hugs and thanks for teaching them that day, and as you see them out, you see the way that Melissa’s kids are doing the same to her. It warms your heart to see that beautiful smile that you haven’t seen quite as much of lately. She looks up, making eye contact with you with this emerald eyes of hers, before giving you a gentle smile and a nod of her head. She’s telling you she’s okay, at least right now. You give her a thumbs up with a bright, warm smile of your own before returning your attention to the last few stragglers in your classroom. 

Usually, the redhead and you leave the school everyday almost right after the bell rings to dismiss the final wave of students; but not today. Today, you have to stay after school to look over the different flower arrangements that you could potentially get Melissa. You settle down back at your desk in the front of your room and start looking at the pre-made arrangements before you hear a gentle knock on your doorframe. You quickly flip the tab to your emails before glancing up.

“Hey,” Melissa says softly.

“Hey,” you smile at her.

“You staying late tonight?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dramatically. “I have a bunch of emails I have to reply to, and I’m prepping for this round of conferences,” you lie. You’ve already finished most of your conference preparations, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh.” Her face drops, and you immediately feel bad. “Well, have a good night, Y/N.”

You stand from your chair and stretch, as if you’ve been sitting there for a while, even though she had seen you not ten minutes ago standing at your door with the kids. “I think I can spare a few moments to walk a pretty lady to her car though.”

You notice the way that her cheeks turn pink and she tucks a few hairs behind her ears shyly- it’s so unlike Melissa. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist,” you tell her as you make your way over to her and take one of her many bags for her.

The two of you walk out together and make small talk through the parking lot, exchanging a few words about your days, before you get to her car. She unlocks the door, and you open the door for her, gesturing for her to get inside. “My lady.”

“You’re too kind,” she says softly as she sets her purse into the passenger seat. You hand her her other bag and allow her to get situated before closing the door for her too.

“Have a good night, Mel,” you tell her. “And seriously, if you need someone tonight… because I know lunch was a little rough, please don’t hesitate to text or call. I always have my phone on me, and I’ll be there for you.”

Her eyes almost well with tears. They look a little glassy as she nods silently and turns her car on. “Thank you, hun. Have a good night too.”

With that, she pulls off out of the parking lot, and you head back into the school to continue looking at the different flowers.

You find two relatively small bouquets of flowers that you absolutely adore, but you want to do something special for her. So, and maybe this is overkill, you order three different arrangements: two smaller ones, and then one bigger custom one. She deserves to feel loved and special. You’ll give her the two smaller ones in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, and then on the big day, she’ll receive the specially made one for her. You just hope that she doesn’t find out it’s you who is giving her these flowers. 

The next morning, you pick up the first flower order, and it’s perfect. It’s small, and sweet, and you know she’ll appreciate it. You print out a little note to go with it, knowing you can’t handwrite your note or she’ll figure you out right away.

You deserve to feel special, your note reads, you tie it to the bouquet with a little ribbon that you had brought into school, and you set it on her desk before she comes in for the day. Then you head down to the break room to brew a pot of coffee like you usually do and wait for the rest of your colleagues to make their way in.

Everyone has joined you at your selected tables to watch the news and drink your coffees when Melissa comes in, the flowers in hand.

“Wow, Melissa! Those are beautiful!” Barbara grins when she sees what the redhead is holding.

“They really are,” she looks back down at them, admiring them. The money you were spending was well worth it to see the happiness and spark come back into the redhead’s eyes, even if just for a few seconds. “I don’t know who they’re from though.”

She settles in next to you, her mug of coffee already prepared and waiting for her next to you, and you glance at the flowers.

“Wow, Mel,” you say softly. “They’re really pretty.”

“Was there a note?” Jacob asks.

“There was,” Melissa fiddles with it in her fingers, having untied it from around the flowers. She reads it out loud before sighing. “But there was no name attached to it.”

“Sounds like someone has a secret admirer!” Janine giggles. “Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!”

“Maybe it’s Gary trying to win you back,” the energetic second grade teacher suggests.

That makes Melissa think. Maybe it is. And you are not about to give yourself up, so you just set a gentle hand on Melissa’s shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Whoever got those for you made a good choice,” you say softly. 

The next morning, you execute the same thing that had yesterday with the other smaller bouquet you had bought, and again she brings them into the break room with her to watch the news. She looks so happy, it melts your heart. You’re so glad you can bring her some sort of happiness through this tough season of hers, even if she doesn’t know it’s you who is giving it to her.

“You deserve to feel loved,” Melissa reads the second note. “ But again, no name.”

And finally, one Valentine’s Day, you bring in the biggest bouquet that you had purchased. You can’t hide this one under your coat though, so when Mr. Johnson sees you walking in, you know you’ve been caught.

“Mr. J,” you plead as the two of you walk in the direction of Melissa’s classroom. “Please… don’t say anything. She doesn’t need to know it’s me.”

“I think she’d like to know who it is,” the janitor states.

“But I don’t want her finding out,” you say quietly. “I just want her to be happy and feel loved during this season, especially with the breakup being so new for her.”

“What do I get out of not telling her?” he questions.

You roll your eyes. You knew he would ask this question. “I’ll get you a gift card to buffalo wild wings- twenty bucks.”

“Make it twenty-five, and you got yourself a deal.”

“Fine,” you groan. “I’ll run out and grab it tonight, and you’ll have it by tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he pumps his fist in the air victoriously before leaving you to do your thing.

This bouquet already has a special note written with it, so you can just drop them off in her room without having to prep anything. You set the bouquet on her desk again before making sure the little card is visible. And then you practically sprint off in the direction of your own room. You really do have to get things prepared in there for the class party before you make your way down to the staff room like you usually do.

When you get there, everyone else is already there, including Melissa- and she has her flowers with her and the note.

“Y/N!” Janine calls you over. “You’re just in time to hear what Melissa’s secret admirer has to say about this bouquet!”

With eyebrows raised, you make your way over to the coffee pot to pour yours and the redhead’s coffee and make it up.

“When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all,” the redhead reads softly, a smile on her face. 

“Oh, that is so kind of whoever this is,” Barbara notes.

“Seriously! Those flowers are absolutely stunning,” Janine states. 

“And I love that this person didn’t just go for a dozen red roses,” Gregory tells her. “All of these flowers mean different things, I don’t know if the person who got this for you knew that or not, but…”

“What do they mean?” Melissa’s interest is piqued.

Shit. You forgot Gregory loves any sort of plants- of course he would know the different meanings behind the flowers you picked out for your little crush.

“Well,” he says as he takes a closer look at the arrangement. “The yellow roses signify friendship, while the white ones mean purity. The yellow roses that turns red at the ends shows friendship turning into love. The pink carnations show that this person will never forget you, while the daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings. Hydrangeas show gratitude and deep understanding. And finally, the baby’s breath that is used to surround all of the other flowers shows innocence and hope.”

“Wow,” Jacob breathes softly. “That’s so… romantic.”

“If the person knew that’s what those all meant,” you say from your place next to Melissa. You knew all of this- you had done your research.

“So, what do you think this person is trying to say?” Janine asks, rocking back and forth on her toes.

“If I had to guess,” Gregory scratches the back of his neck. “This person is trying to tell Melissa that they started off as friends, but it’s turned into a pure and innocent sort of romance? Like they have a deep understanding that this is probably not the best time, but they will never forget her, they have hope for the future, and they are just grateful to have Melissa in their life in any way possible.”

Fuck. Gregory just said everything you were trying to subtly convey to the redheaded second grade teacher through flowers. Fuck. If she finds out it’s you… you’re screwed.

They don’t find out who you are today, and come the end of the day, you and Melissa walk out together as you usually do. She is happy, even doing a little dance as she leaves the building, holding the flowers closely to her. You’ve taken it upon yourself to carry the rest of her things for her, despite her protests.

“You have to make sure those flowers get home safely,” you chuckle as you wave her off. You place her things in her car before giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“I’ll see you a little later?” she asks.

“I’ll be there to enjoy some delicious Italian made by my favorite person,” you tell her. “Am I bringing red or white tonight? Maybe a bottle of champagne?”

“Chianti,” she tells you. “And maybe a dessert wine for after?”

“You got it,” you grin at her. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

When you knock on her door, you can hear her having a very loud conversation over the phone.

“No, Gare,” she’s protesting loudly into the phone as she opens the door and invites you in. She holds up one finger, quietly requesting for a few minutes. “No! I do not want to get back together!”

“Then why did you call?!” he shouts back.

“Because I was tryna figure out who got me these flowers, and you’re the type of guy to make some grand gesture like this to get me back!”

“Well, it wasn’t me, but it sounds like you want to get back together!”

“I thought I made it clear, I didn’t!” She hangs up angrily before hurling her phone halfway across the room. It lands on the couch before bouncing off and hitting the floor.

“You okay?” you ask, although you very much know the answer.

“Fuckin’ men,” she shouts as she retrieves her phone and stuffs it into her back pocket. She takes a deep breath before looking at you. “I’m better now that you’re here.”

“Still haven’t figured out who your secret admirer is?” you tease.

“No,” she grumbles as she leads you into the kitchen. It smells amazing. “And it’s drivin’ me up a damned wall. Whoever this person is, I just want to know so I can thank them.”

You almost reveal yourself there, but you remember what Gregory had said earlier in the day, and you don’t want to make a fool out of yourself right now. So you just shrug and gesture for her to open the wine.

The two of you have a nice, quiet night in eating delicious food, drinking good wine, and then watching a few romance comedy movies together. It’s nice, it’s sweet, it’s pure… it’s domestic the way that she has a blanket draped over the two of you while you lay your head in her lap and she feeds the chocolate covered strawberries she had made for dessert.

But finally, you sigh. “I should probably get going with school tomorrow.”

She frowns. Melissa is clearly enjoying tonight with you, and you have to throw in the towel because of work tomorrow. “Yeah, I guess I should probably head up for the night too.”

You sit up with her help and start to grab your things. She watches as your figure sways back and forth, somewhat from the wine and somewhat from not having stood for hours.

“You okay?” she chuckles.

You shake your legs out. “All good. Don’t worry about me, Mel.” You make your way over to her once you have your bag around you. She stands and embraces you for a few minutes, and you allow her perfume to wash over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mel,” you whisper as you pull away.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, hun,” she smiles at you. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course,” you beam back at her as you head for the door. You make your way out and are halfway to your car before you hear the front door open again, and she’s calling out to you.

“Text me when I know you’re home safe?”

You spin around to give her a thumbs up with a goofy grin on your face before you climb into your car. She watches you pull off, and you make sure you remember to text her when you get home.

“I still don’t know,” Melissa says quietly in the break room the next day. “Did you see anyone Ava?”

The principal is drinking her hangover elixir, sunglasses still on her face. “Girl, you know I get here way after you guys… otherwise I woulda been all over this secret admirer stuff before today.”

“How hungover are you?” the redhead eyes the woman.

“Valentine’s Day? More like Valentine’s week. You know this entire week I’ve been wined, dined and-”

“Please, God… don’t finish that sentence,” Barbara cuts off Ava. The principal just smirks.

“But, if you really are curious, maybe we can see what flower company was delivering these to your room to figure out who this admirer is,” Ava grins.

“And how the hell are we gonna do that?” Melissa looks at her incredulously.

“Girl, I got cameras all over this joint,” the hungover woman grins. “Come down at my prep. I’ll be less hungover, and feel more inclined to help.”

“Thank you, Ava,” the second grade teacher looks mildly impressed with her boss’s willingness to help. “Hey, has anyone seen Y/N yet today?”

“Her car wasn’t in the lot when I pulled in… weird,” Jacob hums.

You rush in frantically. “Hey, hey,” you wave. “Sorry I’m late… got a flat tire, had to change it on Girard, and then got stuck in some traffic.” You make your way over to the sink to clean off your dirty hands.

“Girl, you ain’t late,” Ava laughs. “You’re still twenty minutes early.”

“Why were you on Girard?” Melissa questions. “You usually come from the opposite direction.”

The truth is, you had to go pick up that gift card you promised the custodian for keeping your secret, but you can’t tell her that.

“Late for me,” you sigh, ignoring the redhead’s question. “You know I like to get here at least an hour in advance to prep for the day. Now, because I’m late, I’m gonna have to skip out on watching the news with you guys, but let me know if there’s anything worth hearing about.”

You slip your lunch into the fridge (leftovers from last night) before dashing out to your classroom.

On your way to your room, you hand Mr. Johnson his promised gift card, and he grins. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” you tell him earnestly before going into your room. Only then do you realize that you entirely forgot to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You get that mug of coffee about twenty minutes later, after the news segment is over and your colleagues are heading back to their classrooms. You hear a gentle knock on your doorframe, making you look up. Melissa is standing there with two mugs filled to the brim with coffee.

“Thought you might need this,” the redhead chuckles as she hands the mug to you. You let your fingers wrap around it, and the warmth radiating from the cup and from the sweet gesture sooth your somewhat frazzled soul right now.

“Thank you,” you smile at her before taking a sip.

“Of course.”

Your morning goes by with no hitches, and you silently thank God for that as you walk your children down to the music room. You don’t think you could handle another crisis today.

Melissa gives you a small smile and wave as she also takes her class to their special- gym class. You hear her tell her little eagles to behave before she heads into the office. That’s odd; the two of you usually spend your preps together, but maybe she has a meeting with Ava or has to make copies and she’ll be down to your room after.

“Hey,” the redhead knocks on Ava’s door and makes her way in.

“Girl, you gotta see this,” the principal leans back in her chair and turns the monitor for Melissa to see more easily.

When the redhead gets to where she can see the screen, Ava already has the security footage up and on the camera that is in the hallway to where your rooms are. She sees you heading into her own classroom- the first small bouquet of flowers in your hand. The principal fast forwards to the next day around the same time, and there you are with the second small bouquet of flowers. And then she fast forwards to yesterday, and you’re chatting with Mr. Johnson while holding the gigantic bouquet of flowers.

Ava turns the sound on, and the redhead can hear you pleading to not give you up.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers. She bites her lip nervously. “Thank you.”

“I got you girl,” Ava tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What you gonna do about this?”

At that, the redhead purses her lips in thought. She doesn’t really know. “Thank her, I guess.”

As Melissa makes her way down to your room, she really doesn’t know what she’s going to do. But before she knows it, she’s at your door and making her way into the classroom. You look up from your computer to give her a bright smile.

“Hey,” you smile as you bring your coffee cup up to your lips and take a sip.

“Thank you,” Melissa says softly as she perches herself on your desk.

“For?” you raise a brow.

“The flowers,” she smiles as she reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder.

You blush deeply. “H-how?”

“Oh,” the redhead laughs quietly. “I have my ways… Ava has security cameras and we saw you putting them in my room.”

“Dammit,” you grumble.

“That was really sweet of you,” Melissa tells you quietly. “Thank you. Seriously.”

You turn a violent shade of red. “Uh, yeah. No problem. I meant what I said in my notes: You deserve to feel loved. You deserve to feel special. When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all.”

“If you meant all that,” Melissa hums. “Did you… mean all the things Gregory thought you meant?”

If possible, you blush even more, feeling it spread from just your face to your ears and your chest.

“Did ya?”

You nod sheepishly. “But I know with everything that’s happened recently… and I really am just grateful to have you in my life, however that is.”

She gives you a gentle squeeze of the shoulder before leaning in and pecking your cheek softly.

You feel that spot burning, but you couldn’t be happier.

“I do like you, you know,” she says softly. “You being here is part of the reason I broke it off with Gary.”

“What?” your jaw drops.

“You’ve always been special… but I just don’t think now is a great time,” Melissa admits quietly.

You nod solemnly.

“But I think that with time,” she says quickly. “If you’re willing to wait… although I know that isn’t really fair of me to ask of you.”

“I’m willing to wait,” you whisper. “You’re worth it.”

Next

[petitemistletoe]

Mamma Mia

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: smut!

Word Count: 4.2K+

A/N: Basically Marauders Mamma Mia

Massachusetts

“I’m going to find myself,” you said, examining the items in your trunk before nodding and slamming it shut.

“That’s not a proper response to the question ‘where are you going?’” Your cousin, Lily, was lying on her stomach on your bed, thumbing through the latest edition of a British newspaper. 

“Yeah,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders, popping another piece of your maple candy in her mouth.

“Don’t eat all the sweets!” Marlene said with an indignant huff, handing you her remember-ball. 

“Thanks Marls,” you said, popping open your trunk again and wrapping the ball in one of your sweaters. 

“What kind of sweet is this again?” Lily asked, leaning over and grabbing a piece of maple candy from the box in Mary’s arms. 

“It’s maple candy. They make it up in Vermont.” You said with a shrug. Your trio of British friends always appreciated your American candies. Lily had introduced you all during a summer excursion and the girls had decided to move to America to attend a post-graduate certification program at your alma mater, Ilvermorny alongside you. You had finished a year ahead of the other girls since you were able to combine your NEWTs with introductory courses to the program. You had been living in an apartment, you insisted to the girls that it was an apartment not a flat, with the girls for over a year. You thought about entering the workforce after graduating, but you decided that you wanted to take a three month long trip to ‘find yourself’. 

“Are we close to Vermont?” Mary asked. 

“Yeah, it’s right above us.” You nodded, drumming your fingers on your chin. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marlene looked up at you. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to find a place in the train station to exchange my dragots for gallons?” You hummed. 

“Galleons, love, and no. You’ll have to go to Diagon Alley. It’s in London, not too far from the station. I’ll draw you a map.” Lily said, summoning a piece of parchment. 

“No Lily,” you held your hand up, “that defeats the whole purpose of what I’m doing. I’m going to travel across a few countries in Europe and find my way myself.” You shut your trunk again and nodded. 

“Is it time?” Mary asked, setting down the candies. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad smile, “no tears! It’s only three months! I’ll be back at the end of the summer.” The girls are wrapped their arms around you, hugging you tightly and placing kisses on the top of your head. 

“Good luck, darling.” Lily smiled. 

“Be safe!” Marlene called. 

“Have lots of hot sex!” Mary laughed. You laughed and gave a small wave before taking a deep breath and apparating to the center of London. 

London

It was the middle of June in London. You had packed dresses, and skirts, and shorts, and tank tops, and tops that barely covered your midriff. But it was the middle of June in London, so it was pouring rain and it was very chilly. Within a few minutes of you being outside, you were soaking wet. You were wiping the rain from your eyes and scanning for somewhere to duck into when you saw a sign that said: The Leaky Cauldron. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your mind, you could vaguely remember Mary mentioning something about having a pasty and a pint at the Leaky Cauldron. You never could remember what the hell a pasty was, but you figured any magical place with beer was a good place to start.

You ran into the bar and seemed to attract the attention of everyone inside. You sent everyone a small smile before taking a few wet, sopping footsteps to the bar and pulling yourself onto a barstool, your trunk at your feet. 

“What can I get ya, love?” The bartender asked, quirking an eyebrow at your appearance.

“I know I must look kinda crazy,” you said, raking a hand through your wet hair, “this is my first time in London. I wasn’t prepared for rain.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the bartender shrugged, “fancy a pint to warm up?”

“Sounds good. I’ve heard Guinness is popular here.”

“It is. A pint of that then?”

“Yes thank you! Oh, I heard that you might be able to change my American money.” You said, digging around in your wallet. 

“Sure. You have one of those green dollar bills?” The bartender asked. You placed a dragot on the table. 

“Can you change that for a galleon?” You asked. The bartender released a huff of respect. 

“An American witch? Welcome to Diagon Alley.” He winked and you suddenly became far more aware of the other witches, wizards, and magical folk in the bar. “We have rooms upstairs. Fancy to stay a night or two? We can send your bags up and you can warm up by the fire with a nice glass of firewhiskey.” 

“Thanks. I’ll meet you over by the hearth then.” You said with a wink, taking a moment to wave your wand and dry yourself before snuggling into a chair with a thick blanket. The bartender floated over your drink and you held it up to him in thanks before taking a large sip. You thumbed through a volume of Quidditch through the Ages that had been lying on an empty table. Quidditch had always fascinated you. It wasn’t very common in the states, Quadpot being the more popular sport. 

“You are reading my absolute favorite book in the world.” A man said, sitting on the plush seat in front of you. 

“Oh is it?” You asked, setting your book down and taking in the sight of the man in front of you. Although Mary had been a little crass, you had every intention of riding around Europe…and you weren’t only talking about the trains. Your first candidate was an incredibly promising one to boot, he was tall, with messy dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a pair of round glasses. 

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” The boy gestured to the bartender for another firewhiskey. 

“Am I supposed to?” You asked with an easy chuckle. The boy leaned in close and flashed you a smile. 

“I’m kind of a big deal.”

“What makes you such a big deal?” 

“I’m the chaser for the Ballycastle Bats.” The boy looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to swoon. But you didn’t. 

“Oh!” It hit you, “Oh! That’s a quidditch position! Right?” You thumbed through your book until you found the page that described all the positions. 

“You really don’t know anything about quidditch?” The boy quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’m American,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a quadpot girl.”

“Well, Miss America,” the boy leaned in closer so his nose was practically touching yours, “I’m James, consider me your guide to Diagon Alley for the foreseeable future.”

“James, I have a question for you.” You said, tucking one of James’s unruly dark locks behind his ear. 

“Anything love,” James’s voice sounded breathy.

“Do quidditch players fuck better than quadpot players?” You said with a grin. James nodded and matched your smile. 

“Why don’t we find out.”

You realized at some point later that James had never paid for his drink but you really didn’t care because James had taken you up to your hotel room and was deep inside you while rubbing your clit. You were on your back, his face close to yours as your right hand rested on his sharp jawline and your left hand was gripping his bicep. You didn’t cast a silencing spell and you were sure the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron were cursing your name because you were screaming so loud. The firewhiskey was a warm blanket across your skin and your cheeks were hot as James pounded into mercilessly. 

“Godric, you’re so fucking hot.” James said, his glasses foggy and his hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Keep rubbing my clit,” you moaned as you jacked your leg higher and James was able to hit a deeper angle inside you. James connected his lips with yours and you moaned loudly into his mouth as you came. You squeezed tightly around him and James came a little after, burying his head in the crook of your neck and whimpering as he came, hot white ribbons inside you. 

The two of you talked for hours after, he tried to explain the rules of Quidditch to you and you would just laugh. James made good on his promise, too, he gave you a tour of Diagon Alley and wizard London before you apparated up to Scotland. 

The Scottish Highlands

The girls told you all about the quaint village next to their school in the highlands. You spent your days traveling the highlands, sitting in sweet cafes with a scone and a mug of milky tea, reading on a boat on Loch Ness, and visiting all the historic and gorgeous castles. You were going to spend your final day in Hogsmeade before making your way to your next destination. You spent the day wandering Hogsmeade, dipping in and out of sweet shops, joke shops, and little book stores. You settled yourself in a pub called the Three Broomsticks and sipped on a hot butterbeer while reading a book that you had found at Tomes and Scrolls: The New Edition of the Patronus Spellbook. 

“That’s a great book you’re reading,” a voice said, disrupting you from your thoughts. You rolled your eyes. Did all British wizards use the same pick up lines?

“Oh really?” You were sort of tired after all the days of apparating around Scotland and wanted a quiet night in the corner of the pub. 

“Yes. It’s one of my favorites.” The stranger said, sitting next to you. You looked up at him finally and took him in. He was tall, skinny, with thin light scars on his face and hands. He was wearing a knitted sweater and a very worn in pair of trousers. 

“Why’s that?” You asked, still uninterested. 

“I wrote the forward.” He said with an easy shrug, “Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you.” 

“Oh wow,” you were interested now, “it’s a pleasure.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb your reading, I was just a bit excited. The new edition came out yesterday, I was just nipping to the shops to purchase a copy for myself and have a drink to celebrate.” 

“So Remus, do you do other things besides writing forewords?” You asked, asking for another drink from the barkeep for Remus.

“Ah thank you,” Remus accepted the pint and took a long sip, “I am a professor at Hogwarts, I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Oh, so you’re Professor Lupin then, aren’t you?” You said, leaning in. Remus looked down at you and gave you a wolffish grin. 

“That I am.” 

You had many, many more drinks with Remus as he told you all about his first few years of working as a professor and the various difficulties that came with it. He talked all about his new patronus research until patronus didn’t sound like a real word anymore. 

“I have a confession for you, Professor.” You said, a goofy smile on your face.

“Anything love.” Remus rested his hand on your thigh. 

“I have a fantasy,” you said, leaning in so your nose was practically touching his, “about fucking a professor in his office.”

You and Remus stumbled back on the path that lead from the village to the school. It was a gorgeous, gargantuan castle that was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You made a mental note to tease your cousin about her downplaying her school. He had a gorgeous office, with high ceilings, books and bars of chocolate strewn about various tables. There was a large wardrobe and about three cups of discarded tea resting on a nearby trunk.

“This is a gorgeous office,” you said, sitting on the corner of one of the large trunks. Your fingers ran over a long skeleton candle that rested on his desk. 

“Thank you,” Remus said, setting his book down and standing so his body was between your legs, “can I get you a cup of tea?”

“You could get me something else,” you pulled Remus down by the collar of his sweater until his face was level with yours and you kissed him hard. He kissed you back, pulling at the hem of your shirt until it was up and over your head. You stood and had to extend your neck all the way to account for the distance between you and him. His large hands went down to cup your breasts, gently. You realized that his hands were shaking. You pulled back and gave Remus a small smile. 

“We don’t have to,” you said, softly, “if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Remus said with a light shake of his head, “I do want to. I’m just a bit nervous. You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh Professor Lupin,” you said, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “you are quite a charmer.”

Remus lifted your head with his finger and kissed you again. You helped him out of his sweater this time and saw the long, thin pale scars that traced around his chest like the ones on his face. You kissed along Remus’s jawline and down his neck to his chest. Remus threw his head back and exhaled a soft moan. 

You kissed down Remus’s chest until your nose bumped against his belt buckle. He looked down and you and gave you a small nod. You unbuckled his belt and kissed up and down his length. Remus released a strangled moan and you placed a bit of pressure on his balls. 

“You can be loud for me,” you said before taking a deep breath and taking as much of him as you could into your mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” Remus gasped, gripping the edge of his desk. You continued blowing him until Remus’s breathing picked up and you pulled off. Remus whimpered softly and looked at you as you stood and slipped out of your own pants. You moved Remus so he was standing over you while you had your back to the desk and you hoisted yourself on, spreading your legs wide and dropping your panties to the floor. 

“Come on Professor Lupin,” you said with a smile, “dive right in.” 

Remus grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, pushing your front into the desk harshly. You felt him rubbing the head of his cock against your folds before pushing in deeply. You moaned and grasped for purchase on the desk. Remus’s fingers dug into your hips as he snapped his hips against you, again and again and again. 

His lips attached themselves to your neck and one of his large hands left your hip to grasp harshly at your tit. 

“Rub your clit,” he rasped. You started rubbing your clit rapidly, your moans jumping off the cavernous walls. Remus came and you came after moaning and sweating. Remus stayed inside you, resting his head against your shoulder. 

Remus left for a moment to nip to the toilets and you tried to apparate out of his office and back to your room in Hogsmeade but couldn’t. You didn’t feel that drunk, why couldn’t you apparate?

“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts, so stop trying. You look like you’re going to pop a blood vessel.” Remus said, walking back in and holding a bar of chocolate out to you. 

“Thanks,” you took a bite from the chocolate and smiled at Remus. He walked you back to Hogsmeade and left you standing in front of your tavern with a lingering kiss and a bar of chocolate. 

Paris 

Everyone had always talked about dirty Paris was and you had honestly considered cutting it from your program altogether. Sitting on Rue Victor Hugo at a cafe with a croissant and the deepest, creamiest hot chocolate you had ever tasted as you took in the sights and sounds of the French capital, you were very happy that you decided to keep Paris on your list. You were even happier to watch the various European men make their way to and from work and pass by the cafe in their tailored suits, finely pressed trousers, smart sweaters, and loafers. You looked around you for a moment before snapping your fingers to light your joint. You waved your hand a second time to disguise your joint as a cigarette-a trick you had learned from one of your friends at Ilvermorny.  Lily would have had a cow had she known that you were smoking weed in public, but she what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Une autre chocolat chaud s’il vous plait,” another hot chocolate please you gestured at the waitress. She came around with a fresh cup and you set your sights on a very attractive man who looked a bit out of place. He had rode up on a motorcycle and took his helmet off, securing it to the bike. His ran a slender, ring covered hand through his long dark and shook his head as he got off the bike. He was wearing an expensive looking leather jacket with a thin dark t-shirt underneath, a pair of distressed looking jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens. He took his jacket off to reveal thin, winding tattoos on his arms and chest. You hoped he would cross the street and take one of the seats at the cafe. He was digging around in his jean pockets for a cigarette when another boy turned the corner onto the street of the cafe. The other boy looked quite a bit like the motorcycle boy but…cleaner. He was wearing a tailored pair of trousers, a crisp white button down, and a smart jacket. His dark curls were nicely styled and his thin, long fingers gestured down quickly so the cigarette between the motorcycle boy’s fingers fell to the ground. One of the second boy’s crisp loafers stamped on the cigarette and he pursed his lips. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” The second boy shook his head.

“Shove off Reg,” motorcycle boy, Sirius, said, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Don’t call me that. My name is Regulus, you know that. You can’t keep running, Sirius. It isn’t sustainable.” Regulus looked at Sirius with an expression of pity.

“I just…I don’t care about it, Reg. I don’t care about any of it. You’re better at this anyway. You can deal with all that family stuff better than I can. Just let me grab a coffee and a cigarette and I’ll see you later.” Sirius did not wait for Regulus to respond. He marched across the street to the cafe you were at and you had to force yourself to pretend you were very interested in your menu. Regulus sighed and threw his hands in the air before coming back the way he came. 

“Madame, un cafe. Merci.” Ma’am, a coffee. Thanks. Sirius barked at the waitress. 

“Oui Monsieur.” Yes sir. The waitress responded, rolling her eyes. 

“Do you always eavesdrop?” Sirius asked, taking a seat at the table next to yours. 

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “you and that other guy put on quite a show.”

“Oh my brother Regulus? Yes we’re quite the pair.” Sirius rolled his eyes as the waitress set down his coffee. He took a sip and then paused. 

“Something wrong with your coffee?” You asked.

“You’re smoking weed.” He said, sniffing in your direction. 

“How do you know that?” You asked. 

“You’re a witch, aren’t you.” Sirius grinned at you.

“So you must be a wizard then.” You laughed. 

“You have to teach me that trick,” Sirius moved his chair so it was close to yours. You ran your tongue the bottoms of your front teeth.

“I bet I could teach you a lot.” 

Turns out that Sirius got off on pissing off his family so in hindsight it wasn’t all that surprising that he took you back to his family’s chateau in the middle of the afternoon. They were gone, out, at some event but Sirius pulled you to the middle of the drawing room in front of a roaring fireplace. You sat down on the rug and took in the warmth and glow of the fire. 

“So you’re a rich boy, then?” You said teasingly as Sirius pulled off his shirt and laid down in front of the fireplace with you. 

“Filthy rich,” Sirius responded, pulling you close to him and connecting his lips with yours. You did not break apart as he laid you down in front of the fire, pulling off your clothes with an animalistic intensity. Sirius was devouring you, his teeth and tongue all over your face, neck, and tits. He barely prepared you at all, just pushing in without warning. Your nails pressed into his shoulder blades as you looked at him, ready to snap about his hasty action when his thumb began rubbing hard on your clit. You had your legs wrapped around him as you were biting his collarbone to keep from moaning. 

Sirius pulled out of you and flipped you over so you were on top and he turned you so you were facing away from him. 

“Get loud baby. Use me,” he said, his hands planted firmly on your hips as you sunk down on him. You were moaning intensely as you moved up and down, the new position providing a new angle for you. You came hard, your fingers searching for purchase on the rug as Sirius fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Are you close?” You turned back to look at Sirius. He looked gorgeous, his sweaty curls plastered in his forehead and his hands heavy on your waist, a look of concentration in his eyes. 

“Uh, not yet.” He barked out, a vein popping in his forehead. 

“Spread your legs a little further,” You said, pushing at Sirius’s ankles. He did what you said and you sucked on your finger for a moment before pushing it between his cheeks and into his asshole. Sirius was moaning loudly now. It sounded like a name or something, he was moaning “Moony” over and over again. He was so loud that you didn’t hear the door open and notice people entering the house until Sirius was cumming intensely inside you as Regulus and a woman who could have only been Sirius’s mother were glaring down at you. You gathered your clothes quickly and apparated out before Sirius had finished lighting his cigarette. 

Massachusetts 

You were exhausted and thoroughly ready to sleep in your own bed by the time you arrived back home. You threw your trunk by the front door and called out, 

“I’m back witches!” 

Lily, Marlene, and Mary swarmed you, peppering you with hugs and kisses and beginning to hear all about your travels and see the souvenirs you brought back for them. You filled them in and by the time you were talking about your escapades with the athlete, the professor, and the heir, you were even more ready for bed. 

“Well have a good night darling. Also I’m so sorry but I used the last tampon a few hours ago, I’m going to nip to the shops in the morning,” Mary said. 

“Leave it to Mary to use the last period product in this house knowing full well that we’ve all been synced for the past few years.” Marlene playfully tossed a pillow at Mary. 

“Wait,” something dropped in your stomach, “you’re all on your period? Right now?” 

“Yeah, started two days ago. Why? You haven’t started yours?” Lily asked. 

“No. No I haven’t.” You started chewing your lip, “Anyone have a pregnancy test?”

“In the last drawer of the bathroom,” Mary pointed out as you shot up out of your seat to take the test. Your leg bounced anxiously as you waited to see the results of the test.

“Okay love, I’m sure your period is just all messy from traveling and-oh my…” Lily’s jaw dropped as she looked at your positive test,

“Who’s the father?” Marlene asked. 

“I…uh…I have no idea.” You said as you thought back to the athlete, the professor, and the heir.

[c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s]

Ghostface Choso

Edit: look at this beautiful piece of ghost face Choso. Please give the artist some love! https://aransmind.tumblr.com/

Yoooo I wrote this with the help of Deftones and a bit of experience

Ao3 link

I have serious brainrot about this man. He’s on my nails and I get to lick his face whenever I eat finger foods.

Part 2

NSFW under the cut! Lmk if you like it.

October always promises some great parties. And this year your friends swore to get you out and to at least one party in costume. It’s not that you weren’t into partying, it’s always the anxiety of dressing up that keeps you away from the Halloween parties.

Your phone dings interrupting your thoughts of worry on how to dress. It’s Shoko and the group chat going on about the party tomorrow. And of course they’ve already gotten you an accessory for the costume they want you in.

Utahime:

Just wear a white dress!

Shoko:

Yeah and make it hot

You roll your eyes at the text and look in your closet. There’s a light blue dress that’s nice and sparkly. Texting the group back: guys will light blue work? That’s all I have on short notice..

Utahime: perfect! I have your wings already 😇

Oh okay angel-devil most likely, you think to yourself. And pick out some white chunky platform sandals to go with it.

——————————

The next day rolls around and you slip in the outfit you’d picked out after sending a few pics for confirmation that the vibe was right. You finish your make up and throw your hair in a clip just as the car outside the window honks for you. Texting Utahime that you’ll be out in a sec, you grab your stuff and head out the door.

Walking up to the house party that looked like a club you could feel the music in the front yard. Giddy with excitement you follow your friends in. Apparently Shoko knew the house owners and got invited that way.

Making your way inside with the wings was a bit difficult. Luckily they were pretty small but with the amount of people there it was hard to move with the added accessory. Grabbing a hard lemonade before Shoko took them to the fridge you followed Utahime to the dance floor.

Placing your hands at her waist you move closer to dance and let loose. Dropping your shoulders and sipping on your drink before leaning your head back. Letting loose for a few songs before you notice there’s a hand sliding to your hip. Fuzzy brained from the heat and drink you let him dance behind you. His hands are warm and big. It’s turning you on just from the idea of the body that might match the hands resting on your dress. There is a barrier of your wings so you’re not too worried but you look back anyway. Ghost face is looking back at you. Leaning back you find his ear and ask “pull your mask up?” He shakes his head no. So you pull away teasing a little bit, mostly to see how much he wanted to be near you. A physical flirtation, a testing of waters.

His hands slide around your hips again so you turn fully to him. Pressing against his chest you reach up and prop his mask up on his head, revealing the most gorgeous man. Hark hair and dark eyes stare back at you. Gasping for a second before you regain your composure and throw a smirk on your face.

In his ear you ask “why didn’t you want the mask off? You’re really pretty”

Blushing, you watch him pull his mask on. “Dance with me?” He asks in your ear, the sound muffled by the mask. You smile and put your hands around his neck getting into the beat of the song. Your heart going a bit crazy knowing how attractive this guy is. Your fuzzy brain can’t help but take over your thoughts. Getting a little nasty in your head you shake it off.

A cool piece of glass breaks your mental spiral as it touches the hot skin of your back. Shoko hands you another bottle of hard lemonade and gets close to your ear. “Do you need saving?” She prods..

Shaking your head no you lean to her saying “no he’s hot and sweet so far”

Removing his mask fully he pulls Shoko over to him and hugs her.

“Oh shit Choso!” She bounces into his hug and returns to your side. “Okay he’s approved” she smirks after speaking lowly in your ear and smacks your ass lightly. Then his hand is back on your waist and mask is hanging loosely around his neck by the elastic. Two small buns of hair sit atop his head and bangs whisp over his forehead. Damn he’s pretty. And your fingers feel the muscles sliding under the fabric of his costume.

Leaning in you tell him your name and boldly kiss his cheek. It’s been forever since you were messy with a one night stand. Maybe this guy could be fun and Shoko seems to like him. Green flags so far make you press your body a bit closer to him.

“I’m Choso by the way” he says in a deep voice, hot breath fanning over your neck. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” You suggest leaning back to see his eyes. He nods and laces your fingers in his pulling you to the kitchen away from the music.

He grabs a beer from the fridge and asks “Do you want one?” You nod after looking at your empty bottle. He twists the cap off of both and leads you out to the back porch where tons more people are mingling around. His hand never leaves your hip as he guides you to a more open space.

“Hey” you say, meeting his gaze. He’s playing with one of the strings hanging from the side of your dress. “Hey” he replies and chuckles looking towards his feet.

“So how do you know Shoko?” You pry.

“Friend of a friend basically. What about you?”

“Friend from college” you start explaining “we’ve just stayed friends the last few years”

“Oh that’s cool. Do you know Gojo and Geto?” You shake your head no.

“Oh that’s whose house this is. I’m surprised Shoko never introduced you. They’re cool.”

“Oh I’ll ask her about it after this trust me” the end of your sentence fizzles into a giggle.

“Sooo what do you do for work?” He looks to you expectantly.

“I work a desk job for a manufacturing company. It’s super boring but like ultra stable. Plus my boss is really nice. What about you?”

“I own a gym actually” you bite back a smile at the realization.. that’s why he’s so built.

“Oh cool. You must stay active then” He nods in confirmation.

“But it is a lot of paperwork too. Can’t have you thinking I’m just a dumb jock”

“Dumb jocks don’t wear buns and dresses” you tease pulling at his costume.

“Oh this old thing?” He plays along and rests his elbow on the patio railing, leaning so he’s shorter than you now.

“So other than working out do you have any hobbies?” You ask Getting a little more comfy and leaning your butt against the railing.

“I game and have cats. Do cats count as an activity?” He looks for an answer.

“I’d say yes. I’m a cat person too.”

“And what about your hobbies outside your desk job?”

“Oh I paint and generally go where my mindless scrolling takes me. Gaming, reading, puzzles.. just whatever keeps me busy.” You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself.

“That’s fun! What kind of games?”

“I logged an embarrassing amount of hours in animal crossing a few years ago”

“Okay what do you consider embarrassing?” His brow raises skeptical of your answer.

“900 hours in less than a year…” you cover your face for a moment blushing.

“Holy shit” he laughs. “Yeah that’s insane. I bet your island was cool!”

“It was!”

The conversation lulls while you both sip your drink.

Standing to his full height Choso grabs your waist “do you want to go somewhere more private?”

“This isn’t?” You challenge.

“It is but I think everyone would appreciate us getting a room for things I want to do to you.”

Your stomach flips.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Your cheeks heat and heart flutters. You’ve been starved for this for months. He leans in closer, the heat of his palm seeping into your side. “I wanna see what you look like with my head between your legs”

“That can be arranged” you know the blush has creeped down to your chest. You pull him closer fisting the fabric of his costume. His hand glides to the back of your neck and he softly kisses your cheek. “So? Somewhere more private?” He repeats.

“What afraid of a little spectacle?” You lean in, nose brushing over his cheek and hot breaths mingling before either of you commit to this fully. He caves first placing a slow, closed mouth kiss to your lips. Slowly he slots your bottom lip between his and playfully bites at it before the kiss melts into an open mouth clash of tongues. The cool October air sending goosebumps over your skin and the warmth of Choso’s breath mixing with yours as you both pant and grab at each other. Turning into something else, so familiar but still new. His baby hairs falling at the back of his neck tickle your hand and you giggle into the kiss.

“Okay maybe getting a room isn’t a bad idea”

“We could go back to my place if you want” he curls the strings from your dress around his finger. “Is it close by?”

He peppers kisses on your neck and whispers that it is.

————————

Entering his apartment you take in the industrial type loft. It’s nothing fancy but it seems to fit him. A vintage red rug on the hardwood floors and dark walls paired with a shitty old velvet couch. You watch as a cat darts around to the corner and disappears into another room.

“Make yourself at home” his deep voice comes from behind you. “Thanks. These wings are cutting into me so bad” you discard the wings on the couch and Choso pulls the costume up over his head.

Oh fuck he’s hot. Your mouth waters at the lack of a shirt under his costume. Both of you barefoot on the plush rug, you close the distance between your bodies. His hands trace your hips and he presses his thumbs into the plush of your belly. Initiating a kiss that turns messy fast, tracing your tongue on his lower lip you feel his heart beat pick up. Sighing into each others mouths and melting into the new touches.

“You’re so sexy” he says pressing his forehead to yours. “Gonna let me do whatever I want?”

“Only if you promise to get me off”

“Oh multiple times” he pushes some stray bangs behind your ear.

“Big talk there mask man”

“It’s not just talk. Promise” he slips a finger to the edge of your panties. Teasingly pulling the fabric away from your skin. Gasping as the intimate contact you grab his biceps.

“Sensitive?” You just nod in response and hide your face in the crook of his neck. His hands find their home at your waist again. Choso slides a finger over your dress straps and pulls one off your shoulder. You start placing sweet small kisses to his neck. He returns the favor and places a few wet kisses to your chest. The teasing turns into a full make out session. He pulls you onto the couch and in his lap. Sliding the hem of your dress up so you comfortably straddle him. Worshiping every inch of exposed thigh.

“Do you do this often?” He questions.

“Not recently no” hesitating for a moment “I’m clean if that’s what your worried about”

Chuckling between kisses to your chest “No but it’s nice to know. I was just wondering if you’re slutty.. in the good way”

Laughing at the correction “I can be if you’re into it”

Dragging his teeth against your skin “I’m into it then”

“Noted” you lean into a kiss and press your self fully against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants already.

“Fuck” you pull away breathless from sucking down each others air. His hands guide your hips creating friction for the both of you. Kissing him again you fight over who gets to bite the others lip. He pulls yours in his mouth and sucks on it.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, finger tips gliding along the bare skin of his back. “Will you wear the mask while we fuck?”

Shock settles on his face then a grin. “Yes ma’am”

Teasingly, you drag your hips on him. Your folds spilling out of your thong from how hard you’re grinding on him. Cupping your ass, Choso stands up with you in his arms as he carries you to his bedroom. Tossing you on the bed before he hovers over you placing kisses to your chest and biting the flesh of your breast. Licking at every spot he bites leaving a small trail across your cleavage. He kisses you with an open mouthed kiss, tangling your tongues together while he pulls your dress up and over your head.

His lips immediately attach to your exposed nipple while he plays with the other. Sending shivers over your body and heat between your legs. He pulls the mask off his neck and throws it on the bed “for later” he says.

“First I gotta make good on a promise” lowering to his knees and placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. Sliding off your underwear leaving you fully exposed under him. Tension fills the room as he leans in closer to your clit, slowly dragging his tongue over the soft bud. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His tongue slowly drags over your slit sucking up the wetness already leaking from you. Then he proceeds to suck and lick your pussy with no regard for how wet his face and your thighs are. Pressing into you hard and flattening his tongue for more friction. Using your thighs and ass to lift you up off the bed so he has better access. Continuing his ministrations pulling out every ounce of pleasure he can. Soft moans slip from both of you. Lewd sounds come from between your legs and you cover your face in embarrassment. Someone you just met making you feel SO good. The thought sends shivers through your body. You grab each of his buns in one hand and rut yourself against his face. Panting at the exertion, filthy things leave your lips.

“God Choso yes”

He slides a finger inside you but never lets his lips leave your clit. Even as you reach overstimulation and try to pull away he pulls you closer with one hand. Riding out your high on his finger.

“Good girl” he praises as his shorts hit the floor. Joining you on the bed he kisses you and pulls you closer. You drape a leg lazily over his waist and realize he’s fully naked. And erect. Holy shit. Hes so pretty.. even his dick is pretty. Toying with it, your thumb circles around the tip as you greedily slide it through your folds.

“I’m on the pill .. so we can do whatever you want”

He covers his face with a large palm. “Fuck me” giggling softly you reply “gladly”

He goes to grab the mask off the bed but you stop him. “I wanna see your face for a bit. Please” He smirks and nods, placing the mask close by. Sitting up on his knees, he glides his dick on your cunt and teases your slit and folds. Heat pooling in your abdomen. He pushes his tip in and spits on where you’re connected. Throwing his head back he hooks your legs over his thighs, pushing fully inside of you. A few thrusts and he’s sweating. Looking like a man starved for pussy.

He grabs the mask and pulls it over his face while your eyes are screwed shut. Fucking into you harder now and lifting you off the bed. His nails dig into your hips and you gasp but definitely get wetter at the sight of the mask. You grasp his sides, holding on as he roughly pushes into you over and over. He flips you over and fully pushes inside you slowly before grasping all your hair in one hand. Forcing you to look over your shoulder at the body of a god screwing you. A hand slides up your back and causes heat to pool in your belly at the tenderness.

Panting, your hands fist the sheets for purchase. He catches on that you want more and he pulls all the way out before slamming back in. Throwing his head back in pleasure as his cock drags against your walls, pulling out again. Taking off the mask you see sweat beading on his face.

“God damn you feel so good” wimpers leave your lips as he’s pushing and pulling your body as he wants.

Flipping you over again he spits where you’re connected. Playing with your clit while dragging his dick in and out of you until you’re cumming on him. He leans over and cups your shoulders while panting into your ear. Orgasms washing over both of you. He holds you as you both come down. Breathing heavily while your eyes glaze over, you body humming with contentment.

Playing with his hair you whisper into his ear “that was incredible”

“Yeah? if you stay the night I’ll do it again”

Smiling you kiss his cheek and agree.

Part 2

[therealslimsanji]

Ok, my darlings! As promised.

One Taz/Reader sexy time fic at your service!

Please be aware, I'm no writer. Plus, I've got a house full of noise and chaos, and I work from home, so this will probably have a ton of grammar and spelling mistakes. C'est la vie, mon ami.

So without further ado, I bring to you:

Taz/Reader

Rated: Explicit for language and oral sex (m receiving).

(Also rating E for "eh" at the quality of work here.)

But anyway, I hope you all will enjoy it a little bit!

**UPDATE, I EDITED THE STORY A BIT AFTER POSTING SO IT MIGHT READ DIFFERENTLY THIS TIME**

Taz Skylar/Reader

The night had come and the kitchen was finally quiet now. A few of Taz's cast mates from One Piece had dropped by yalls apartment to celebrate the show's season two renewal. Nothing too major. Mostly it was just another excuse for your boyfriend Taz to show off his excellent culinary skills.

That thought made you smile as you finished towel drying the last dish and placing it in the dish rack. A gentle wave of warmth spread through you. It always did whenever you thought about Taz cooking for you or his friends. He was such an affectionate man and one of the ways he's come to show his love is through his kitchen creations.

"Quickest way to a person's heart is through their stomach, darling," he'd said once while effortlessly chopping up a wide variety of vegetables for some fancy stew.

On cue, almost as if he could sense you were thinking about him, Taz appeared behind you, wrapping his slim toned arms around your waist. His chin came to rest on your shoulder.

Your eyes fell closed as you leaned back into his touch. His arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"Did you have fun today?" You asked as the two of you began to sway slightly. Your arms coming to rest atop his around your waist.

He chuckled lowly, "I always have fun when I'm with you and my friends. I love you all. Very much. You the most, obviously." At that he chuckled some more, burying his face into your neck and kissing the skin there.

"We love you too, babe. I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished in the last year alone," you spun around to face him, sliding your hands up and down his biceps, "if anyone deserves to be celebrated right now it's you, my love."

Taz blushed at your words, eyes dipping down a bit in a bashful manner. That was something else about Taz you've come to love, how he shy he gets whenever he gets complimented. It was adorable and you took that moment to lean up and kiss him.

Your arms came up to wrap around his neck as his hands moved to the small of your back. Eyes closed, the two of you kissed slowly and deeply. You moaned a bit as you felt him grind subconsciously against you. Smiling into the kiss, you bit gently at his bottom lip and pulled away slowly. There was a glint in your eye that made Taz shiver in your hold.

"C'mere," you whispered, taking both his hands in yours and guiding him towards the counter of the kitchen island. You spun him around, his lower back pressing against the edge of the counter as you attacked his mouth once more in a much needier kiss.

You felt his hands try to grasp at the buttons of your shirt but you quickly put a stop to that, grabbing them and pinning them down on the counter's edge.

"Mm-mm," you hummed against his mouth before pulling back to say, "this is about you tonight. Leave your hands on this counter and don't move them until I say." 

Taz looked as though all the wind had been punched out of him, his face flushed as all the blood rushed south quickly. You could easily fell the hardness of his arousal pressing against your own crotch.

It made your mouth water.

Leaning forward to lick the shell of his left ear, you whispered, "I think I'm still hungry.."

You could hear him swallow audibly.

"Y/N...you..."

Before he could finish his thought, you sunk to your knees, maintaining eye contact with him the entire way down. His gorgeous ocean eyes were blown near completely black, his chest beginning to rise and fall a bit rapidly. His lips were still a little moist from kissing, and God dammit if he wasn't the most beautiful man you'd ever had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring.

Oh yeah. You were gonna take your time with this. Savor every second. Watch every micro-expression cross that stunning face of his. Slowly you undid the button and zipper of his dark jeans, pushing the material down a bit along with his black boxer briefs-- this man and his love for the color black. It was understandable though. He looked fucking amazing in it.

But then, he'd look fucking amazing in a burlap sack.

Taking out his cock, you let the warmth of your breath to ghost over the tip as you pulled the foreskin back. You watched as Taz's head fell back and felt the full body shiver run through him.

"Taz," his head snapped back down at the sound of his name, "look at me. Don't look anywhere else but me."

"Christ, Y/N..." He grit out. His slender hips bucked slightly, searching out more friction. Your hand was still wrapped just this side of too loose around his cock. You knew it was driving him crazy.

With a smirk, you stuck your tongue out and lapped at the precum gathering at the tip, shiny and salty and tasting uniquely of Taz. It was definitely a taste you could get addicted to.

Your right hand stroked his base as your full lips closed around the tip entirely. Your tongue pressed along the slit, rubbing against the spongy head as you sucked lightly.

Above you the blond moaned, tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip before his teeth bit down in it. His knuckles were white where they held their death grip on the counter's edge.

You kept your eyes locked as you swallowed more of him down with each bob of your head. Both of your hands griping at each of his denim clad thighs. A few more bobs and you had him swallowed down nearly to the hilt, the dark curls around the base tickling at your nose.

A small whimper left his throat, he was trying so hard not to thrust up into your mouth. You smiled around your mouthful, admiring his attempt at control for the sake of your comfort. But you meant what you said.

Tonight was about Taz.

You pulled off still staring up at him, lips plump and wet, "you can fuck my mouth, baby."

"Oh fuck..." He groaned. "Can I..?" He lifted a hand off the counter in a silent request for your permission.

"Use me," your voice was a bit deeper now.

His hand threaded through your soft hair as he grasped a handful, not too tight. Just enough to know you were gonna be hoarse as fuck after all was said and done.

Wasting no more time, you swallowed him back down as far as you could handle. The hand in your hair moved to cup at the crown of your head, keeping you in place as your throat muscles worked around him.

"Oh my God, Y/N. Oh shit..." his blue eyes were struggling to keep focus on you. He was beginning to pant hard, hips moving more and more, almost desperate.

You pulled back a bit, stroking him quickly as you took a moment to catch your breath.

"That feel good?" You asked with a mock innocence, mouth going right back to sucking him down.

"Fuck yes. Feels incredible. 'M not gonna last..."

But you knew that already from the way his hips were starting to stutter in their thrusts. You're no amateur. You've gone down on him enough times to be able to read his body like an open book.

His moans and whimpers as he inched closer to climax were a melody you knew by heart. He was so close now.

"Oh God..Oh f-fuck, Y/N fuck.." this was the part where you swallowed him deep. Sucking as best you could while your throat muscles worked around him and his hips ground against your face. Your left hand came up to massage at his tightening balls while your right hand sought out the hand he had in your hair. He released his grip on your head so that your fingers could lace together. 

There was something so intimate about grasping his hand as his orgasm approached. It made your heart swell. It was also established by now as your way of giving him consent to continue chasing his climax since your mouth was usually too busy to actually tell him in the heat of the moment. A silent assurance that you were in it until the end.

"I'm gonna cum. Y/N I'm gonna-fuuuck..." 

One more clumsy thrust of his hips, and you felt your mouth fill with his warm release. You swallowed as much as you could, trying to keep up with how much was shooting out. You continued to suck him through it all, only popping off when the hand still grasping the counter weakly pushed your head off.

He was panting and beginning to slump down against the bottom cabinets beneath the marbled counter. You could feel his thighs trembling as you tucked him back into his underwear and pants. He was struggling slightly to remain upright and standing. But he was also smiling bright and sweet. Skin almost glowing from the thin sheen of sweat gracing his forehead.

Good God he was beautiful in his post-orgasm bliss.

"Oh my God, Y/N, that was..."

You rose up to your feet and nuzzled your nose against his, feeling cocky and euphoric and aroused as FUCK.

"Amazing?" You supplied teasingly, "mind blowing? 10 outta 10 would recommend to all your friends??"

He shot you a curious glance at that last one before a sleepy smile took over.

"First two, absolutely. But I've no intentions of ever sharing you with anybody." He wrapped both arms around your waist and kissed your forehead. "I love you," he spoke against your hairline.

You tightened your hold on him, "I love you too, Taz."

He pulled back, eyebrow raising mischievously.

"Round two in the bedroom?"

"Way ahead of you, sugar tits."

With a giggle, you shoved him back playfully against the counter and made a mad dash for the master bedroom. Taz chased behind hot on your heels.

The sound of yalls laughter filled the apartment before the bedroom door closed behind you.

End ❤️

[zirobitches]

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

-----------

Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

-

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

-

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

-

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

-

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

[g-xix]

idk if ur requests are open but do you think you could do a chrismd nsfw alphabet?

ChrisMD NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Just the sweetest- making jokes and getting you clean... Never an awkward moment. He has the door open whilst he runs the two of you a bath so that he can still see you and make sure you're okay and make some shitty jokes that make you groan even more than you were groaning whilst he was fucking you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Prolly the thighs, I reckon he likes a thick pair of thighs... First time he saw you wearing a short skirt he was just so empty-headed, just too obsessed with the sight of your thighs and the way they looked so fucking good every time you stepped, rubbing against one another and almost deserving his head between them... He just had to leave some hickeys on your inner thighs before you left wearing that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) I think Chris doesn't like finishing inside you- he prefers seeing it ON you- whether that be smeared across your thighs, all over your face, on your tongue or titties... After the post-cum high he does feel a bit guilty for that, and tries to clean you up pretty quickly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Oftentimes when he's playing a game with his friends or just edited- you're sat on his lap just cockwarming him. Obviously, it just looks like he's holding your waist whilst he's playing with the other hand, but in reality he's gripping your waist so that you don't move and tease him by trying to make him groan whilst his cock is inside you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I feel like before dating, he was quite out there and got himself quite a bit of experience. Obviously in the relationship when you first did it with him that was a bit of a shock with how good he was, but over the years of the relationship he's settled into it and found what he really likes doing with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggyyyyyyy... He loves a thick girlie and the recoil has his head absolutely spinning, it's just so good for him. Love doing it with a mirror in front asw so that you can look at Chris and he can see your absolutely gone expression whilst he's pounding you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Chris would be such a joker, you've seen in the vids how he always manages to slip a overused or kinda shitty joke in... Yeah, well- same for sex with him. Always slipping in a crappy joke before slipping into your pussy ✨

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think he shaves it clean when he does shave it

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) I mean, he deffo doesn't have meaningless sex- it's moreso just intimate because he's completely genuinely himself whilst he's doing it. Like, he makes the same sorts of jokes during sex whilst he does when you're just chilling with him and you have to love the fact that he can make you laugh even when he's 7 inches inside you-

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He filmed a friends buy me 26 presents for my birthday video at one point, and Stephen thought it was a great gift to give him a really high-tech fleshlight... like, really high tech. Has allsorts of features. So of course Chris used it (just for science)... And wanking has never been the same since.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Fucking suspenders. The surprise of coming back from a date and pulling your skirt up just to realise that the tights he though you wore were actually suspenders, and just one of the pieces to the lingerie set you wore beneath your outfit is alawys just such a kink for him. Snapping the band against your skin and thirsting over how deliciously your thighs spill from the top of the tight, sheer material... Chris would have you wear those every day if he could- but if you did then you might have a seriously leech problem, the way Chris would constantly have his head between your thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Probably the kitchen. Sounds awful, doesn't it? But there's something so hot for the both of you when he bends you over the island, your tits pressing against the cool marble whilst he buries his head between your thighs or pushes his cock between your folds, having your moans echo through the apartment- looking out of the window at the bustling streets, knowing that anyone could look up and see what Chris was doing to you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) You wanting it. Nothing more hot to him than having you plop on his lap and take his headphones off, whispering into his ear how you need him and grinding down on him there and then. That gets him going, and triggers him to leave everything he's doing and give you exactly what you want until you really can't go any longer.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Nothing dangerous/weird. All the body-waste ones like piss, faeces and blood he can't get behind... He hates the thought of anything to do with knives either because he's scared he would accidentally slip and end up hurting you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Prefers to give fo SURE. Loves being between your thighs- ESPECIALLY face sitting. You were so nervous to try that out but Chris was so eager- he wrapped his arms around your thighs and practically clamped you down to his tongue, which flicked and lapped so sensually you were grinding down on his tongue and moaning like there was no tomorrow. He's completely intoxicated by the way you moan his name and the way you pull his hair, so he's groaning into your pussy and only making you wetter with the way his voicebox sends vibrations straight into your core

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) I reckon he loves a fast pace, not necessarily rough unless you're asking for it- but he's snapping his hips against yours fast, just racing you to your orgasm

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) I reckon he just loves a quickie if you or he is horny before you have to go out. He loves just pushing your panties to the side and lowering himself between your thighs, granting the two of you that sexual satisfaction whilst racing against the clock to make sure you're not late either

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) I think he is a bit of a risk taker. He loves doing it when he knows it's risky the two of you might get caught- whether that be separating from the group and doing it as quietly as you can in the toilets, or sharing a hotel room and doing it knowing the others could walk in at any moment

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Oh yeah this guy has stamina. Could fuck you two times back to back, just needs you to nod your head and say you can go another round, and he's taking you for your third as well

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Uses his fleshlight when he's alone at home and sometimes whilst the two of you are having sex he'll press your vibe to your clit for that added stimulation. He generally does that on the last round just to have you screaming his name, legs shaking by the time you've cum.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Yeah, he's unfair but only a bit. Won't edge you repeatedly type of unfair, moreso the make-you-beg-for-it type unfair.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Definitely talks to you, whether that be a shitty joke or a bit of praise/degrading. Yeah, Chris switches up between degrading and praising depending on the mood and day and overall what he thinks fits better. He does love you screaming his name though- he takes a bit of pride in the fact the neighbours know his name and the landlord has had to warn him about the noise complaints.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Recorded the two of you fucking one time. Had the phone in his hand, recording the recoil and showing off your ass with a red-hand mark and white cum on it as he finished. He uploaded that to his computer randomly a few weeks later whilst he was scrolling through his gallery and was so turned on watching it again that he had to send it to you with a you're so fucking sexy, we gotta do this again sometime

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Right, so. Christopher Dixon is a little man, but I THINK that he is a little man with a LARGE wood. Deffo above average, I wanna say about 7 inches

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Pretty high I'd say. Definitely have sex at least once a week- tend to do it more during winter than summer just because it's too hot and the two of you would rather be as still as possible with the fan cooling youse

Z= Zzzz (How fast do they fall asleep afterwards) Doesn't really need to fall asleep, could go his whole day after if you've just done one round or so. He's the type of guy to stay awake until you fall asleep, so if you did it at night he'd be holding onto your waist and just listening to your breathing- synchronising his to yours until you were asleep

---------------

Very sexy indeed. Hope you all enjoyed + feel free to flood my inbox w requests n chatting bits n bobs, love having a natter to everyone here xoxo

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[extrashotodepresso]

Hawks X Fem!Reader:

Blurred Lines

Warnings: SMUT DNI if not 18+ , somnophilia if you squint, unprotected (please don’t do this guys), some red flags here (but when you’re wearing rose colored glasses red flags look like flags)

As always, comments and reblogs welcome. If you don’t have anything nice to say- say it to the wall. Not my wall, the one in your room. Go to the corner and think about what you want to say to a stranger on the internet and what’s driving you to take out your ick on them.

Alright so I really wanted to write Hawks as not a dirtbag but just as like the cute lovable weirdo he is. Honestly… I struggled with this. I really just wanted to get this one finished and I just did what I could but if I can be honest- I struggled part way through and I’ll probably edit this eventually. It eeees what it eees.

Summary: Reader is neighbors with Hawks. They start a friendship that leads to more over time until they cross that final line. That’s it. That’s the fic.

The first time Keigo landed in your apartment, it was an accident. Actually, that’s how you found out you were neighbors with the number two hero. You wouldn’t have expected it; with his ranking, he was bound to have a fancy upper side Mustafu apartment, why was he renting in your shitty little neighborhood?

But questions you had at the sudden encounter would have to wait; he had rolled in from your open patio window missing feathers, covered in grime and blood. You had been cooking dinner at the time, and all you could do was stare dumbly at the man on your floor, tongs raised in your hand casually.

“Uh… you okay?” You asked, cringing immediately at how stupid you sounded. Thankfully, you heard a laugh before his arm slithered out from beneath him and he pushed himself halfway off the floor. He looked around your apartment for a moment, seemingly puzzled before his eyes landed on you.

“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” He groaned as he brought himself up to stand, feathers falling out of his wings and littering your floor among the rest of the debris. “Uh…” he stepped up and down carefully, his boots crunching in the grime. “Sorry about the mess.”

You shrugged. “Happens. Do you… um do you need any help or…?”

“Nah, I’m good.” The two of you stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say, the popping of fried chicken sizzling away in a pan being the only sound for a few moments.

“I think I live next door.” He said, looking around, the slight flush on his cheeks darkened as he reached for the back of his neck. Bad move, he immediately winced. “30C.” You nodded slowly, then returned to your chicken.

“It would appear you do.” You flipped the pieces in the pan, frowning a little at the bits that had burned while you were distracted by the hero hurdling into your living room. “28C.”

“Hawks.” He offered, gesturing to himself and seeming to wince afterwards at the obvious introduction.

“(Y/N).” You turned as you introduced yourself, moving the cooked chicken into a serving bowl and finally turning back around to face him when you were done.

“You don’t seem all that bothered, (Y/N).” His voice was light and pleasant and despite the strangeness of this encounter, you couldn’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. Must be a hero thing, you figured.

“Of all the crazy things in this city that could have crash landed in my apartment, a top hero is probably one of the better options.” You smiled wryly and he offered a sharp laugh.

“Fair enough.” He studied you for a moment. “I uh… I should get going then. Do you need any help cleaning up or…” you glanced at your floor, considering the state of him, it was pretty minimal.

“I can handle it, it’s fine. Seems like you had a rough day.” You offered a short sort of smile at this. He put his hands in his pockets, then after another awkward moment, walked towards your door. “You can come back for dinner if you want.” You offered as his hand closed on the doorknob. You didn’t know why you had offered, this was probably already the weirdest day of your life but something in you forced the words out before you could stop them. His face lit up, and you felt your heart thud thickly in your chest.

“That would be awesome! I’ll be honest, it smells amazing- just uh- give me a bit to freshen up, okay?” You nodded and he practically ran out of your apartment, before poking his head back in. “Don’t clean that up- I’ll get it, it’s the least I can do.” He pointed at the mess on the floor and you nodded before you heard him hastily enter his own apartment.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” You muttered to yourself before setting up another serving of chicken to cook.

When he came back, he cleaned up the mess on your floor and even set the table while you finished cooking. It was strangely domestic of him. Your brain was still working to process the information of the past half hour. The nation’s number two hero had crash-landed into your living room and now the two of you would be having dinner. You chucked to yourself as you finished cooking and brought the food to the table. Weirder things had probably happened before, though you couldn’t imagine what.

“Thanks again for your hospitality.” Hawks offered with a stunning smile. You had been moving to sit down across from him, and your entire body froze for a second at the brightness of his expression.

“N-no problem.” You offered, lamely. As the two of you began eating, he seemed like he wanted to talk more, but your own shyness and hesitance to conversation made it difficult not to stagnate. You felt the sweat on the nape of your neck. Leave it to you to be unfazed by the bizarre yet challenged by the basics of conversation.

As he took a bite of chicken, his eyes grew wide.

“This is so good, (Y/N)!” He exclaimed. You thanked him, then couldn’t hold back the snicker that had been threatening to escape you. “What’s so funny?” He said, words partially muffled as his mouth was stuffed full of chicken.

“Bird hero, eating chicken.” You managed to explain. “Just… made me laugh.” He stared at you before bursting into laughter himself.

“Despite the bad PR it might get me, I’ll admit, it’s one of my guilty pleasures.” You smiled, glad you hadn’t offended him as you took a swig of your beer.

Conversation flew by a little easier after that. It seemed like Hawks was just as down to earth as his reputation would reflect. You learned that he had been your neighbor for about a month, but because of the nature of his work, you wouldn’t have really seen him around. Besides, he really only ever entered his apartment through his patio. That’s why he had landed into your living room; normally his door was the only one left open. You asked him why he didn’t live in some fancy huge building since he could clearly afford it and he shrugged, explaining that he wanted to be closer to the neighborhoods he actually served.

He asked you about your work, you explained that you worked from home; data entry, nothing nearly as exciting as his job. He politely nodded as you explained your work, he was even kind enough to ask questions and act like it wasn’t entirely boring. The two of you talked for a while about a myriad of things; favorite movies, heroes, books, restaurants- it seemed like you both actually had a lot of common ground. It was nice, you usually lived a pretty secluded life, having someone to talk to was more than pleasant.

After dinner, the two of you parted as unlikely friends and his visits over to your apartment became relatively frequent. He would stop by after patrols without any sort of announcement, and while the average person would be annoyed, you really didn’t mind except for that one time he barged in and you had just gotten out of the shower. Months like this passed, and you and Keigo made a habit of spending practically every night he wasn’t working together.

It was on one of these evenings that he came over and the conversational tone shifted.

“Why don’t you ever have any guys over?” He asked, suddenly. You had been distracted by the movie on the screen, some detective flick that had just come out, so it took you a minute to process the question. When you finally did, the mouthful of popcorn you had suddenly became stuck in your throat, leading you to practically choke.

Keigo’s eyes widened with concern as he pat your back, urging you to breathe before offering you some of the beer that was on the table. You gulped it down, panting before you responded.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Is it that strange of a question?” You looked at him incredulously, trying to search his face for any hint as to what he was thinking.

“I mean… it’s a little left field, Kei.” You offered before taking another drink.

“Why? You’re a beautiful woman, I’m surprised that you don’t have any other guys coming around here.” You felt your face flush red, your brain sputtered to find any sort of response.

“What?”

“Unless… you’re not into men?” His face grew serious. “I am supportive of whoever you want to love, I need you to know that.” You shoved him.

“Oh my God, Kei, what’s wrong with you?”

“What, there’s nothing wrong with being gay-“

“Of course there isn’t!” You practically shrieked. “But where is this sudden interrogation coming from?”

“I was just curious if you were seeing anyone.” He was pouting. “You never talk about it.”

“Of course I’m not!” You hit him with a pillow. “Why? Do you have some secret girlfriend you’ve never shared with me?” You stopped hitting him, for some reason the thought made you feel nauseated.

“No. You’re the only one I ever see.” He said, studying you thoughtfully.

“Well then, there you have it.” You hugged the pillow you had been using to hit him against your body. “We both have no life; love or otherwise so there.” You muttered, dragging your attention back to the TV.

“Guess so.” He said, thoughtfully. The two of you finished the movie in an awkward silence. You didn’t know quite what to say or do moving forward, so you stood with a stretch.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said with a little yawn. “You can let yourself out or crash here. Whichever.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but didn’t know if you quite succeeded.

Lately, there had been more and more nights when Keigo would stay the night at your house. The first time was unintentional, the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch after an impromptu movie marathon. The next time had been intentional, he asked to crash on your couch because he didn’t really want to go back to his empty place. In the morning, he had complained about his back hurting like hell, so the next time he wanted to stay over, you suggested you both share your bed. You justified it, saying that it was just like having sleepovers with friends in childhood- which led to a conversation about how Keigo had missed all sorts of things as a kid. You had been dedicated to giving him the experience, staying up late with snacks and Manga until the two of you crashed over the covers.

Since then, you hadn’t needed to do the entire sleepover experience, he just helped himself to your bed and the two of you had relaxed into your own routine with it. It seemed your relationship seemed to frequently evolve in a way that felt natural, no matter how blurred the lines were becoming.

Because of those blurred lines, and the conversation from earlier, your brain couldn’t focus as you showered. It didn’t help knowing that possibly in the next room was your insanely hot hero neighbor, waiting for you to come to bed. You definitely didn’t use your best body wash, or take the extra time to use a salt scrub on your skin, or spend a few extra minutes deep conditioning your hair while you shaved for the first time in months- that would have been insane. *cough*

By the time you left the shower and entered your room clad in a nightgown (also definitely NOT strategically picked over your normal tattered T-Shirt) ; you were pleased to see he had decided to stay. He was laid out on your bed, head towards your side, seemingly passed out. You crawled into bed carefully, sitting up for a moment simply admiring him before you snuggled under the covers.

As you studied his face, you reached out and caressed his cheek. Your thumb found his scar, tracing the flesh gently before it came to his lips. His mouth was so soft, softer than you would have thought and an impulse you couldn’t control took hold of you.

Your breathing had stopped. Almost in foresight of your plan- you had to know. You leaned in and softly brushed your lips against his in a gentle kiss. He didn’t move, but just the feeling of his lips on yours made your heart leap out of your chest.

When you pulled away, prepared to look over his face with satisfaction, your heart sank. His eyes were wide open and he was staring at you. Not just staring, his eyes practically burned into you. Your cheeks flushed, heart racing and you tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak.

“What a naughty little bird you are.” He said to you darkly. You felt the suffocating weight of your shame, and tore your eyes from him as quickly as possible.

“I-I’m sorry I just-“

“You what?” His voice was cold. You had fucked up.

“I wanted to know what it felt like… to… kiss you.”

“Well that isn’t gonna help you.” His voice was dripping with condescension. You looked at him in confusion before you felt him roll on top of you, grabbing your chin with his hand before taking your lips in a bruising kiss.

That flipping, over the moon feeling came back as his lips glided over yours, and when you felt his tongue drag across your bottom lip you groaned into him, happily obliging the escalation. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, his other hand slowly finding its way to your back to pull you in impossibly closer.

When you felt like you couldn’t breathe, he finally parted from you.

“How was that?” His voice was raw, husky and you swallowed before shaking your head.

“No good.” You managed to let out between panting breaths. He looked almost hurt until you kissed him again. “Now I just want more.” You whispered into him and you could feel him shudder over you- the fluttering of his wings showing his pleasure in your statement.

“I can do that.” He growled into your open mouth, his tongue exploring yours just long enough to leave you breathless again before he moved his kisses lower. He kissed along your jaw, then down your neck and over to your ear, licking at your earlobe before biting it gently.

“Did you know-“ he whispered into your ear before moving his kisses lower. “That our bedrooms share a wall?” He licked the juncture of your neck and collarbone before taking a bit of flesh into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hands made their way to his back, clawing at his shirt helplessly.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to follow the conversation, but the heat from his every touch was beginning to be quite distracting.

“Mmhmm. And did you know that I can hear everything happening in this room?” You could feel the flush spread to your chest from your cheeks as his fingers deftly slid down the straps of your nightgown.

“Is that so?” You tried to sound casual, but you knew what he was implying.

He groaned again into your skin in response as his tongue explored the flesh of your newly exposed chest, slowly nudging the fabric down until your breasts were exposed. “Beautiful.” He said almost to himself before he sucked at your breast, tracing his tongue along your peaked nipple before biting down softly. You gasped, arching into him as your hand found his hair and your fingers laced into the roots.

“Keigo-“ you were panting, but his mouth continued its ministrations.

“Do you know how much self control it took for me to not come over here some nights? Hm?” He spoke into your skin again, then brought himself back to your lips, allowing one of his hands to continue the work his mouth had been doing. “Hearing you moan out so sweetly- never quite able to reach what you were looking for?” His hand traced down your torso, over the bunched fabric of your nightgown to between your legs.

As you felt the silky fabric drag up your thighs, your pulse quickened- you were simultaneously mortified and thrilled by the decision you had made getting out of the shower- when his hand touched your bare mound and his wings stretched out like they did whenever he was excited, you bit your lip.

“Nothing underneath?” His voice was feral. “You are a naughty bird.” His fingers wasted no time in spreading your lips, finding your clit with ease, he rubbed the bundle of nerves before sliding down to your entrance. “Soaking wet too.” He let out a little whine and the sound of it made you clench around nothing. “It’s like you did this all f’me.” When his fingers entered your twitching core, you thrust into his hand, urging him deeper, faster.

“I did-“ you managed to mewl as his fingers curled up inside you- “It’s all for you.” You were quickly becoming an unraveled mess, your breathing labored as you felt yourself nearing your release. Keigo kissed you again, all consuming passion and sloppy need and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek. The hand that had been at your breast came up to your face, his thumb wiping it away as he spoke into your mouth.

“It’s okay little bird, let go.” You nodded, kissing him again as you finally felt yourself break.

Keigo stroked you through your orgasm, gently caressing your thighs when you had control of your breathing again. You pulled back from him, looking into his face. His pupils were completely blown, looking fucked out already. His expression, which had been one of puckish excitement moments before, was now solemn. He kissed you once more, softly, before rolling away from you with a sigh. He laid flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and you didn’t quite know what to say or do now.

The silence, though it lasted mere seconds, felt like a vast expanse of space in which nothing but your own anxiety existed.

“Keigo?” Your voice came out louder than you had anticipated, inadvertently causing you to cringe. He turned towards you then, bringing his gaze to yours before his eyes dragged down your half dressed body, nightgown still scrunched to expose most of you. A groan left him as he pulled his gaze away, his hand that had brought you to pleasure moments previously was now covering his grimacing face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, angel.” He said, though it was entirely non convincing.

“Kei.” You repeated, rolling towards him, resting on your arm to look over his face. You pried his fingers off his eyes. “Look… I-I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened at you, but he said nothing. You worried at your lip, teeth pulling the tender flesh nearly to shreds. This was the first time you felt uncomfortable around Hawks. You didn’t just feel uncomfortable, you felt terrible. Like you had taken advantage of a friend, like you had finally crossed one of those blurred lines that was supposed to be sacred and unscathed.

“Sorry?” He repeated softly. “Sorry for what?” You tasted copper in your mouth- you licked over the flesh you had chewed open, trying to will yourself to stop the nervous habit.

“I shouldn’t have- I mean I wanted to, but it was wrong and-“

“Wrong?” Why was he just repeating after you? You suddenly felt too exposed, pulling back on your nightgown, you sat up and protectively covered your chest. “Did it really feel wrong to you?” Your eyes snapped to him.

“Of course not!” Your outburst ripped through the quiet that had been momentarily reestablished. “But- I- I shouldn’t have just- without asking- if I lost you I don’t know what—not that I have you- I mean-“ he leaned up then, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you towards him to kiss you again. You whimpered into him, a relieved sort of sob threatening to leave you at any moment. He licked over the rim of your lips, clearly he had noticed your habit too.

“If you want me to stop- you need to tell me.” He spoke into your open mouth. “But … I’m not going to be able to stop if we keep going and once we…” he readjusted, tensing, “there’s no going back, (Y/N).” He was severe again, pulling himself just far enough away that his gaze could transform from one big eye into two amber pools, threatening in their intensity. You said nothing, swallowing hard. “If we keep going, I’m never going back to what we were. I can’t.” You might have imagined the way his voice broke on the last word, the way he hitched his breath and let it out with a sad sort of groan, but it didn’t matter as your lips sought his again. You offered your acceptance to his terms, trying to show him with each glide of your lips just how you felt.

Hawks eagerly met each movement, descending with you into a new subspace, recently discovered but yet to be explored. His hands reached for your nightgown again, pulling it from your body before pushing you rather roughly back down. He peeled off his own shirt awkwardly, you hadn’t ever seen him maneuver in or out of his clothes before and despite the mood of the moment you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how urgently he wrestled out of it.

“Hope you enjoyed laughing, little bird.” When he was finally freed, he looked down at you with a dark expression, a smirk playing at his lips clearly promising more than you were prepared for. “You won’t have time for that soon.” He lunged for you again, kissing you with a demand for compliance. His tongue bullied its way into your mouth, deftly exploring your taste. You could hardly keep up with his movements, his hands were all over you, claws raking down your back and pulling across your ribs before sliding up to grip your breasts. His fingers bullied your flesh, though you had never been handled so roughly you couldn’t say you minded at all.

“Kei-“ you tried to pant into him, his kisses moving towards your neck while your hands grasped for his sweats. You tried to pull them down, but his hand batted you away.

“No.” He spoke firmly and you bit your lip. The hand that had slapped yours came up to your chin, pulling your lip away from your gnawing teeth slowly. His tongue grazed over the wounded flesh again before he sucked at it, letting it fall from his mouth with a satisfying pop. He then moved down your body quickly, spreading your thighs open wide. There was not a part of you left unexposed; the thought that you were the only one in that position suddenly made you feel vulnerable.

You didn’t have to meditate on that thought for very long though, as Keigo lowered his head down to your core and immediately used his mouth to mercilessly drag you towards orgasm. It was too much too fast; the hero was known for his precision and speed- each pass of his tongue proving just how hard he worked to earn that praise. Your head crashed into the bed below you, back arching unnaturally as you let out a noise that could hardly be recognized as belonging to you. You exploded, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids, and though he could not have missed the fact that he had just brought you to your second orgasm that evening, his oral assault continued.

“‘S too much—“' you squealed, “K-Kei-g-g—ugh!“ you cried but he continued to spell his name over you, branding you with it, the burn almost too much to handle. When you truly thought you would die, he pushed his fingers inside of you, curling the digits up and hitting the spot he had found earlier so expertly that without you being even slightly prepared, another climax was ripped from you. He still didn’t give you a moment's rest, lapping up every drop you offered to him until he was satisfied. Finally, he stopped for a moment, sitting on his knees with his wings flayed out, casting a shadow over what seemed like the entire room. Your eyes shut, heavy with exhaustion as you attempted to collect yourself.

When you could breathe again, you realized he was now laid between your thighs, arms on either side of your face. He wiped tears you didn’t remember shedding from your cheeks and kissed you gently, slowly bringing you back to his plane of existence.

As your consciousness slowly reentered your body, you noticed the way his skin felt against yours. All of it. The realization that he had undressed completely finally dawned on you when you felt a twitch of hardened flesh at the apex of your thighs, prodding you as if requesting entrance. A high pitched whine left your throat and entered his mouth, the ridiculous sound causing him to grin into your kiss. Finally you understood his frustration earlier at your flippant laughter.

“You ready, angel?” He spoke into your mouth as he lined himself up with your core; you nodded dumbly into him though you weren’t even quite sure if you were in fact ready. You felt like a million exposed nerves; every part of you was hyper aware of every touch, stray breath and every bead of sweat gliding across your skin.

Keigo began to thrust inside you, exhaustingly slowly, his entire body over you shuddering. Your hands, which had been clenching themselves in the sheets before, came up to his shoulders, dragging down to the base of his wings. When you allowed your fingers to trace the fine feathers at the base of them he let out a sharp hiss before burying the rest of his length inside you in one sharp thrust.

There was no sound, at least not that you could remember after that, just the feeling of his tongue running against your throat while his hips ground into you. His movements were shallow, as if he was too afraid to leave you, like all he wanted was to figure out how to make the two of you one. Desperately, you tried to move in tandem with him, but every bit of him was so distracting. You felt every muscle in his back, tried to grab at his thighs and pull him closer to you. Seems you agreed that nothing felt close enough.

So lost in your own little world, you didn’t notice he had been talking to you until he bit at your ear to get your attention.

“Hmm?” You were delirious with contentment, never had you felt so absolutely complete.

“I’m close, angel- are you?” He panted into your flesh and you just turned your head towards him, looking at his flushed, fucked out face with a groan. You shook your head no, then tried to lace together words; something like ‘It’s okay, let go’ or ‘I’ve already been fucked stupid, I’m just a plaything now.’ But in the absence of further response, Hawks took your no as a challenge.

He readjusted his body beneath you, moving to sit on his knees, draping your legs on either side of him. The new angle hit even deeper, and you let out a high-pitched moan of his name. Keigo moved his hands to your hips and he began to pull and push your body, effectively using you like a living flesh light. The way he arched your back and manipulated your body had you nearing your final release and as you opened your eyes to see the way he was studying your every movement you felt yourself clamping down on him.

“Fuck-“ he groaned, head flying back, crimson wings splaying out again. He looked so angelic- so inhumanly beautiful. You grabbed your breasts, pulling at your nipples, just following every urge you had. “Sh-shit angel, just like that-“ his hips faltered for a moment. “Play with yourself- that’s it-“ one of his hands holding your hips rested on your lower belly, pushing down while he brought a thumb to your clit, adding the most delicious pressure until you found yourself unable to hold on.

“Fuck!” You screamed as you felt yourself finally let go- clenching him for dear life, trying to milk him of every last drop. Distantly, you heard the symphony of sound the two of you were creating; the accumulation of whimpers and grunts emphasizing your crescendo. When he felt you cumming around him, he collapsed over you, blindly pounding into your flesh before letting out a final groan of your name. A pleasant warmth spread through you, his hips continued to pump into you slowly until finally he fully stilled, offering you a slow, sensual kiss. His arms slithered beneath you, holding you tight in a hug before rolling onto his back, taking you with him and laying you on his chest.

The two of you were still connected and you distantly noticed that your breathing had synchronized. You were spilled over him like jello, unable to move but enjoying the gentle caress of his hands on your back and your hair. You felt yourself dozing off, feeling completely and irrevocably satisfied.

“That was well worth the wait, angel.” He let out finally. You simply hummed in response, eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. “We should really get you cleaned up.” He added when you didn’t respond. To this, you groaned.

“No. No move. Only sleep.” You spoke into him, words muffled with the way your cheek pressed into his chest. You felt the roll of laughter he let out through his abdomen, jiggling you with it.

“Come on.” He didn’t seem to be willing to give you a choice, giving a short slap to your ass before lifting you off of him without much ceremony, leaving you feeling empty. You whined at the absence of him but didn’t have the opportunity to protest when he swooped you into his arms and princess-carried you to your bathroom.

He sat the two of you into the bath, his wings draped over the back of your tub and your back pressed into his chest. It was a tight fit, and as he leaned over to turn on the water, he scrunched you forward and you let out a groan at the stretch on your sore muscles.

“Sorry, baby bird.” He whispered into your ear softly and you whined, the sound of his voice eliciting a pleasant flip in your tummy. He sent a feather to grab the washcloth you had hanging on your shower caddy and grabbed the bar of soap you had resting on the ledge of the tub before lathering it and moving it over your skin.

You melted into him, letting out a gentle sigh of contentment while you snuggled into him as close as humanly possible. Despite your protests, this was heavenly. Hawks kissed your hair as he continued to clean you, dragging the soapy cloth over your chest and down to your thighs. You ignored the way your body reacted to him, refused to acknowledge the way your hips raised subconsciously to his touch. You could feel his smile against your neck but neither of you spoke. This was tender intimacy.

When the tub was full, he turned off the tap and the two of you simply laid there for a while. Your hands found his and you played with them, admiring the way his fingers slotted between yours, dragging your touches over the dozens of tiny scars and calluses. It was a solemn reminder of the reality of his situation ; how vast the difference between a civilian like yourself and a hero like him actually was.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, abruptly.

“Hm?” He questioned you sleepily.

“About this, I mean.” You tried to figure out what it was you wanted to say. “I mean- where does this leave us? You said you couldn’t go back, so where do we go?” You tried to look back at him, but the stretch was too uncomfortable, so you simply laid the side of your face against his chest.

“What do you mean where do we go?” His hands, which had been limp in yours allowing you to explore squeezed your fingers, and he brought his arms in to hug you. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Simple as that.” You couldn’t help the furrow of your brow, you were thankful he couldn’t see it.

“But why me?” You asked, recognizing how insecure you sounded.

“I knew it was you the first day we met.” He said, with finality. You let out a giggle.

“It was the fried chicken, wasn’t it?” You joked. He laughed into you.

“That definitely helped. But I knew even before that.” The way he said this was so confident, so finite.

“What if- what if this doesn’t work out?”

“Not an option.” Again, he was so sure.

“What do you mean?” His grip released you and he didn’t offer you a response.

Instead, he leaned forward and pulled the plug on the bath, then picked you up again before resting you on the bath mat. Keigo wrapped you up in a towel before grabbing one for himself, then he disappeared into the other room.

“Kei?” You called out, awkwardly, not really willing to move. When he came back, he was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and had brought you your normal sleep T-Shirt.

“Yeah?” He asked as he stripped the towel off of your body and wordlessly dressed you. You felt like a kid but still complied with every silent request he made to lift your arms or move your hair. He picked you up again, apparently to him, you no longer had the need to walk, and he rolled the two of you into bed.

He had laid you down beside him, tucked you in snugly, and was leaning his head on his hand as he gently caressed your face, studying you like he was debating something. You were still awaiting his response to your earlier question, trying to compel him to answer with a slight glare.

“When I told you that I can’t go back…” he started, finally getting to the answer you needed, “I meant it. You’re absolutely everything to me.” He closed his eyes, laying down fully while he looked up at the ceiling. “You’re home to me, (Y/N). The only one I’ve ever had.” He faced you again. “I’m never going to let that go. Even if you wanted me to.” His face was a little frightening as he said the last bit, and while somewhere you recognized you should be concerned by his sentiments , you couldn’t feel anything but joy. You smiled, despite yourself and didn’t miss the confused expression on his face.

“Okay.” You simply replied.

“Okay?”

“I’ll be your home, Keigo.” You rolled the top half of your body over his chest and kissed him. “For as long as you want me.” You kissed him sweetly, then snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes, noting the rapid thumping of his heart in his chest and allowing the tempo to guide you to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone, but he had left a single feather behind to keep an eye on you. You weren’t worried, or offended that he hadn’t said goodbye. You knew he would always come home.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Vante | Kim Taehyung

Summary: You favorite faceless artist Vante has an exhibit tonight and one of his close friends takes a special interest in you. Pairing: Artist Taehyung x Art Collector reader Word count: 2.3k a/n: This was supposed to be out for Tae's birthday and I failed miserably. But it's gonna be a two parter to make up for it so keep an eye out for that! (I also have a Jin fic but again I've failed miserably on getting it out on time) I wanted to post the first part to see how it's received and I'll decide when I'll put out a part two later. p.s barely edited because I just wanted to put it out asap lol

"You know that one artist you like is having a gallery show right?" my friend asks me. "Who? Vante?" I asks, my interest now peaked. "Who else would it be? You don't really mention any other artist to me by name. You just say 'Look at this new piece I bought' or whatever, but when it come's to him it's always 'I just found a new piece by Vante and I need to get my hands on it!' or something to that extent" she finishes, taking a sip of her mimosa. 

"Didn't you already have enough to drink last night?" I ask, reminding her about how plastered she got at the benefit ball as she downs the rest of her fifth glass this morning. "Yes, but today is a new day love. What did you expect when you invited me out to brunch?" she teases, waving down one of the waiters to bring her another one.

I roll my eyes at her and continue on with my meal. "Anyways, about the gallery show, do you know where it is? I know his events tend to be exclusive so I haven't been able to get an invite before. Is it somewhere in the city?" I ask taking a sip of my drink. "Well what if I told you I already got you an invite?" she says, smiling over the rim of her glass. 

"What do you mean you already got me an invite?" I ask in astonishment. "Are you the one who's drunk or am I? Yes I got you an invite!" she laughs at my growing excitement. "I love you so much girl thank you!" I say coming around the table and hugging her semi aggressively. "Okay okay now get off of me and order another drink for yourself if you really love me. You know I hate drinking alone" she says and waves the waiter over for me before I can protest.

~~~~

"So where's the show being held?" ask while we're waiting for the driver to pull the car around and instead of saying anything she hands me a luxe envelope with a wax seal and my name written across it in the most intricate font. "All the information you'll need is in there" she says and makes her way into the car leaving me mesmerized with it for a moment before she's calling after me to get in. 

"I still don't understand why you're so obsessed with him though, is it the whole faceless thing?" she asks once the car makes it way onto the street. "In part yes, that's definitely got me intrigued but his art alone speaks for itself. There's just so much life in it and-" "Yeah yeah I've heard you fan girl about him enough. I don't even know why I asked" she says resting her head against the window. "The alcohol is catching up to you isn't it?" I say amused by her cheeky response. "Shhh why are you talking so loud?" she whines making me chuckle and lean back in my seat, enjoying the now peaceful drive back to my home.

~~~~~

Closing my front door behind me I walk over to my living room mindlessly and sit down on the couch all while inspecting the envelop before reaching for my letter opener as to not break the seal. Once opened I'm met with a soft beige letter again with my name written in the same font. I open it and read all of the information about it and I panic for a moment seeing that the show is tonight. "Of course she would wait until last minute to give me this" I say out loud to myself with a smile on my face, taking a deep breath and making my way over to my closet. 

Once I've found an outfit that fits the theme of pale neutral colors I start getting ready to head out. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror I give myself a bit of a pep talk before leaving. "You've been to hundreds of shows like these before. There's no need to be nervous" I say, taking a deep breath and walking out before changing my mind. 

~~~~

The atmosphere is calm and quite compared to the loud colors and designs splattered on some of his paintings. The abstract faces and bodies of the people he paints a stark contrast to the people who are wandering around the gallery also donning the color pallet specified on the invite. I guess this is another way to ensure that the paintings themselves are the ones that are grabbing peoples attention rather than the attire of the various attendees.

Taking a deep breath I wander around acting as casually as I can, trying to maintain my composure and keep my excitement at bay. Seeing all of his paintings up close is a new experience that I wasn't expecting. Seeing his art online verses being surrounded by it in person feels almost like a full circle moment. He's been an artist that I've been following closely for years now so it just feel right being here. 

"Has this one caught your eye?" I hear a mans voice say from behind me, leaving me placing my hand over my heart in surprise. "My apologies, I didn't mean to frighten you" the deep baritone voice says now accompanied with owner by my side. "Oh no that's alright, I guess I just lost myself for a moment there" I say and take a glance at the man next to me. 

He looks as though he's my age or a few years older with strong masculine features but still having a few soft ones to make him even most interesting to look at leaving me at a loss for words. Not so much as being nervous but more as seeing him as being somewhat of a living piece of art that somehow found it's way over to my little part of the world. 

"You still haven't answered my question" he says playfully, turning to face me now. "I'm sorry?" I reply, embarrassed from being caught staring at him for too long. "The painting?" he questions nodding towards the piece in front of us. "Oh! Yes it's gorgeous! It's one that I haven't seen before and it just kind of pulled me in as soon as I laid eye on it" I say turning my attention back towards it.

"I love how he's steered clear of using a traditional canvas and has used glass instead. His usual pieces are usually full of color and chaos but I love how this one is almost stripped down but still has so much life and movement in it. It's almost as if you can see him painting it on the other side" I say tilting my head a bit and taking in the details a bit more. 

"You see these little bumps right here and how they're almost a bit more textured than the rest, there are a few of those spots throughout it as well" he says leaning in a bit closer to point out a corner of it so I can see it more clearly. "Would you like to know the story behind this painting?" he asks and I eagerly nod, waiting with bated breath.

"So, he had been feeling a bit restless while he had been cleaning up his studio a bit and he had been washing his brushes and so he didn't really have much of anything to paint with and he had finally figured out what he wanted to paint of this sheet of glass in front of us today. So instead of waiting patiently for his proper tools to be back into commission he took a stale baguette from his kitchen, ripped it in half and used that as his brush instead" he chuckles and I can't help but laugh right along with him, taking note of his adorable laugh and boxy smile.

"That certainly sounds like something he might do but if you don't mind me asking, how did you find that out?" I ask, interested as to what this man's relation might be to Vante.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Taehyung, I work closely with Vante and help out in any way that I can to make these shows run smoothly. I'm also full of fun facts about all of the pieces in here so please don't hesitate to ask me anything" he says while motioning around to the rest of the gallery. 

"Oh, I'm y/n, it's very nice to meet you!" I say and take his outstretched in greeting and he surprises me by kissing the back of my hand. "Likewise" he says with his breath still fanning against my skin. It sends a slight shiver up my spine at that, paired with the dark brown eyes of his that I find myself entranced with.

"Are you an art collector yourself?" he asks, walking with me to see all the rest of the pieces in the various exhibits. "I'm more of a beginner when it comes to collecting art and curating a collection but I do know that I always try to get my hands on any Vante piece I come across. I've been following his career for almost 6 years and I can't help but fall in love everything he creates" I gush while taking a closer look at another piece. 

"You really are a true fan of his" he replies, gazing at me with admiration while my attention is pulled to a sculpture close by. "I mean I guess you could say that" I reply, getting shy at how excited I've been. It's as though I've reverted to having a childlike wonder when brought to a candy store for the first time.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, I like seeing how passionate you are about art. It reminds me of how Vante used to be when he first started out" he says and walks over to another piece with almost a melancholy smile. "Used to be?" I question trailing after him. 

"He's been going through a bit of a slump lately and thought a show like this would bring him some sort of inspiration and motivation to continue and hopefully appreciate how far he's come" he says, glancing over at me. "Do you think it has? Is he here right now?" I ask, taking a glance around the room.

"Yes he's here and trust me, this show has done wonders for his creativity" he says smiling down at me before taking a glance around the room. I try to follow his line of sight to see if they land on anyone in particular but unfortunately he seems to catch me in the act. "You're quite the curious one now aren't you?" he chuckles, turning his attention back to me. 

"Why do you say that?" I ask, feigning innocence. "You're trying to find Vante aren't you?" he says with a knowing smile. "Can you blame me? This mystery behind who he is and even his age are driving me crazy" I laugh and he laughs right along with me. 

"Why don't you take a wild guess as to who he might be" he says and watches me as I take a gander around the gallery. "Mmmm, how about him" I ask, pointing at a man in his late 40s with a stocky build that is clearly wearing a toupee. "Very funny" he laughs and shakes his head. 

"What? I'm taking a shot in the dark here" I say trying to stop myself from laughing again. "Well how about him?" I ask pointing to a younger man that seems to be in his early 20s dressed in a more casual but clean outfit, just barely matching the dress code. "That's a good guess but no that's not him. If you ask me it looks as though he's been dragged here by his mother" he points out a middle aged woman dragging him along so he won't wander off. 

"Good point" I chuckle looking over at him as he continues to scan the gallery right along with me, never staying on one person for more than a few moments. "You probably wouldn't even tell me if I did guess right huh?" I say, seeing a devious smile flash across his face. "Nope" he says and walks over to another piece. 

"Why even suggest the guessing game if you wouldn't tell me the answer?" I ask and start checking out what he's brought us over to. "Because I liked watching you guess" he says glancing over at me and I frown at him playfully. "Hey in exchange for not telling you who Vante is, why don't I show you the pieces that didn't make it into the show?" he suggests and starts walking towards a door thats labeled 'Employees Only'. 

"Really? Are you sure this isn't against the rules or something?" I asks looking around to see if anyone is watching us, which thankfully no one is. "Of course it is. But don't worry, I'm famous for talking myself out of trouble, or into trouble depending on the situation" he says with a wink while holding the door open for me.

I take one last look around and see that again no one is paying us any mind. "After you my lady" he says and motions for me to walk in...

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie @hehurst23 @caro134340lina @ye0nvibezzn @olimpiiaa @hrtsj1m @junecat18 @ellesalazar @babycandy111 @felixz4life @lively-potter @esther-kpopstan @gyukookswhore @koohrs @skzthinker @vminkookgf @kookiescupcake0109

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: short references to fighting/neglectful homelife, but mostly fluff

Summary: Taking a day off from work, Miguel sits with you as you both spend the day building legos. 

A/N: I had the undying urge to write this after continuously seeing posts about Miguel loving legos and Lego Peter. This is my first time posting anything on Tumblr so I apologize for any mistakes :))

Word Count: 1K (edited, but may still have some errors)

Miguel always loved legos as a kid. Legos were the perfect escape for him. It preoccupied his mind, forcing him to forget about his neglectful parents and disappointing home life. It was the one thing that could be just his, even when he let Gabriel help him when his parents were having screaming matches in the kitchen. Miguel would beam with pride after finishing a set, everything being perfectly in place and showing what time and dedication could result in. Even as an adult with multiple worlds weighing on his shoulders, Miguel still indulged in legos occasionally. He had an impressive collection on display in his personal office at home, but barely any free time to add to it. He suspected that it was one of the major reasons why he loved Lego Peter so much, though he would never admit it to another breathing soul. The smaller Spider-Man reminded him of simpler times. Times before the multiverse consumed his every hour and normalcy was still within reach for him. 

Today, however, the multiverse (with reluctance from Miguel) could wait. Or so you say. With your skills of persuasion, (you had called Jess and told her she would have to be in charge for the day as Miguel had “fallen ill”), you had successfully convinced Miguel to take the day off and spend it with you. He had complained at first, but later found himself relaxing as he sat besides you on the living room floor. You had decided that today would be dedicated to quality time between the both of you and that meant you would only do activities you could do together. That’s how Miguel found himself watching you become progressively more frustrated as you tried to build the lego set you had gotten him for his birthday. It never occurred to you that in Miguel’s advanced, futuristic dimension, that legos would also be more advanced and way more complex than what you were used to in your universe. 

"I think this is the right piece. This is the right one, right?" you question, your head looking from the instructional pamphlet to the small structure in front of you. 

Miguel watches in amusement as you count the pegs on the picture and compare it to the piece you snapped into place. You sigh as you realize that it, in fact, is not the right piece. Of course, Miguel already knew that the second you lifted up the lego piece. But who was he to ruin your concentration? He wouldn’t want to be “nagging” and “a backseat driver", as you so kindly described his previous attempts to help. You lift up the structure to eye-level, trying to gently remove the piece without breaking any of the work already made. You try to slide your nail in between the two pieces, but find that it stubbornly won't disconnect. Of course, even in the future some pieces still get stuck together with no way to remove them.

Your brows furrow at your failed attempts before giving Miguel an exasperated look, “You know, this is supposed to be a fun group activity. Not a ‘let me do nothing but sit around and watch as the love of my life struggles and does all the work’ activity.”

You hand the configuration of legos out to him and he simply raises a brow, "Who said I wasn’t having fun? On the contrary, I find your frustration entertaining." He reaches out and takes the structure from you, “It isn’t my fault you can’t follow simple instructions.”

You roll your eyes at him and hold up the instructions to his face, “How, in any universe, are these instructions classified as ‘simple’.” Even with your Spider intelligence, the symbols and pictures are complicated to follow. Trying to decipher them is an hour-long activity all in itself. 

Miguel shakes his head, “The box says for ages 12 and up. You’re in your 20s, yet you can’t understand pictures made for middle schoolers.” Carefully, he extends his claws and slides a single one between the pieces you tried to separate. He takes care to not scratch or damage the legos as his long talon easily disconnects the pieces with a pop. He smirks lazily, smug with the knowledge that he completed the task in seconds while you were struggling for the past two minutes.

He places the structure back into your hands and places the incorrect piece back into the pile on the table. He picks out the correct piece and slides it over to you. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as you roll your eyes again, “Yeah, well they made ‘Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?’ for a reason.”

Miguel sits back against the couch and smiles ever so slightly to himself as you continue building his lego set. Every now and then, you turn back to Miguel with a pout when you need his help separating legos or building a particular section. Of course, this leads to more snide and teasing remarks from him, but he can’t ever deny you anything and he can’t deny that your reliance on him does wonderful things for his ego. Eventually, you end up sliding over the whole set of instructions to him, prompting him to explain the next steps to you. The process goes by much quicker with Miguel telling you what pieces to use and where they go. The structure is done in less than 3 hours, halving the time it would take you if you had done it alone.

Later, Miguel sits in his office. He works on catching up on everything he had missed on his day off. It’s late into the night and the only source of light comes from the yellow screens that he studies. By now, you are already in a deep sleep down the hall in your shared bedroom. As he works, Miguel can’t keep his eyes from straying. Even in the dark, his enhanced eyes can clearly see the finished lego set placed front and center on his shelf. It is surrounded by framed photos of the both of you together and other miscellaneous trinkets you had given him throughout the course of your relationship. It is a shelf dedicated solely to his relationship with you. He scans the shelf once more with a small smile and Miguel thinks to himself that, just maybe, legos aren't the only thing that make him feel normal again. 

I am so sorry if any of the writing is shitty! It has been a good year since I wrote anything. I promise (hopefully) these will get better as I write more! But, I hope you enjoyed it :)).

[sysakiddo]

I finally edited chapter 6 of diplomacy au y'all! I struggled a bit with a burnout after getting my degree in january lol but hopefully it won't take so long for another chapter to appear!!

ao3, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

“It's like watching the most awkward first date happen in front of your eyes. And you know, of course, that they are not going to fuck.” Max says after taking a long sip of his third gin and tonic. 

Everybody who hears him laughs, already watching the couple standing by the bar. Charles tugs his ear in what seems to be a nervous tick while Sebastian casually leans on the chair, even though he is everything but casual. He watches every move of the man in front of him, shuffling his feet a bit when Charles licks his lips after a sip of his skinny bitch. 

“Pathetic,” Alex laughs, not unkindly. “It seems to me like there is no salvation for them,” George adds, leaning forward on the couch they all squeezed on to see the show in front of them. 

Anne doesn't feel like this is something she can ask them about. That is not to say that she is not terribly curious and confused about how one could refuse Charles Leclerc giving them heart eyes while biting his lips. Instead, she breaches a topic she thinks is a safe zone. “If you think this is tacky, how did you guys meet?” 

Daniel looks at his hands immediately, a nervous huff escaping from his lips. He hates telling that story. He rarely ever thinks about that time now unless he really needs to. The swirling of the ice in his negroni makes a loud noise. 

Because truthfully, Max met Daniel at his lowest. It was in his LA house, where he spent most of his time, the D.C. office vacant more often than not. They turned up just as the sun was setting, Sebastian and Max. It was the older man who insisted on introducing them.

Daniel straight out refused. He didn't care about Sebastian’s little charity project. It went too far, saving aggressive puppies, Jesus. He did not want to meet anyone named Verstappen when he wasn't paid to do so. 

Daniel was barefoot, his swimming trunks still a bit wet. The LV shirt had an obnoxious pink print and it was slipping from his shoulders. It was late enough that he was glowing from the sun, the diamonds on his necklace shining. He looked at the wunderkind, at Max, the youngest ambassador in the US ever. 

Max wore a three-piece suit despite the day being too hot for it. His Berlutis were gleaming, and he was straight-up glaring at Daniel.

“Howdy,” he grinned at them. Sebastian assessed Daniel's pupils, shaky hands and a sheen of sweat on his forehead with a grim face. He gave him the pep talk about easing off the drugs just a few days ago. Max extended his hand, and Daniel shook it. It was a reflex. Max’s palm was warm and soft. 

Sebastian cleared his throat. “As I told you, Max, this is Daniel-” 

“I, of course, know who he is.” Max didn't let Sebastian finish his sentence, coming off unnecessarily rude. Daniel laughed awkwardly. 

“Sounds like I'm famous, baby.” he winked at Sebastian and from the corner of his eye, he saw Max visibly cringe. 

“We met at work, Anne. Sebastian introduced us when we were all in the USA. He is painfully proud of that, calls himself a matchmaker and everything.” Max huffs out a laugh. He knows Daniel feels uneasy and puts the target on his back to protect him. Like usually.

“Who did the first move then?” Anne asks, just as Charles, who lost Sebastian somewhere on the way between the bar and the table, makes it back to them. 

“Oh, Daniel did. It was very romantic.” Max says matter of factly. When Daniel finally looks up, he is surprised to see his eyes foggy, as if he is experiencing the moment for the first time again. 

Nevertheless, Daniel huffs, mad that Max always uses his version of the story. “Romantic? You slapped me!” 

“Well, it is only right I did,” Max shrugs. “I, of course, thought you were making fun of me.”

Charles giggles, which is honestly progress. He was the one who took the fall, consoling Max after he returned from their dinner, fidgeting with his fingers, two red stains high on his cheeks. His voice sounded like he was eating gravel for dinner when he told him Daniel had kissed him. He was rapidly blinking like he was trying too hard not to cry, and Charles still thought it was the best proof of his professionalism, the fact that he hadn’t laughed to his face right there. But. He locked himself in the bathroom after Max somehow calmed down, turned on the faucet, and laughed hysterically. 

Max originally feared Daniel had figured him out and was just playing mind games. He thought Daniel was ridiculing him, or worse, he tried a new technique to manipulate and eventually blackmail him. What enraged him the most was the fact he wasn't prepared for it. He hasn't read a tutorial named what-to-do-when-your-counterpart-kisses-you in any of the assigned readings in the university. 

The only emotion Daniel felt when Max slapped him across the face immediately after the kiss was pure humiliation. He couldn't believe he read the signs wrong, him, Daniel Ricciardo. It was unheard of. Plus, Max did kiss him back for a few seconds. But then. 

And Daniel felt stupid and walked home alone and got drunk alone and fell asleep alone. 

Now, Daniel looks at Max with deep empathy. He squeezes his thigh, smiling. 

“Well, that shitshow was still a lot better than Baku,” Charles says with a grimace. That wasn't Max stuttering and rubbing his red eyes furiously; that was Max throwing random things across the room, his scream ricocheting through the whole hotel floor. 

Daniel snapped at Charles, “No, we’re not talking about Baku!“ Charles smirked, looking at him with a look that meant trouble. But Daniel has never in his life been scared of Charles. He was such a sweet kid before he fell under Seb’s influence. He takes a second to mourn the version of him he knew before he introduced Seb to him. 

“Always you are mad because you don’t want to admit you were wrong. Christian also said you of course did not act according to the protocol.” Max buts in, chronically unable to get over things. 

Daniel turns to Max with a stormy expression, the empathy all but gone. “Christian would also suck your dick if you asked, I don't see how his opinion is valid in this situation.” he spits out.

Charles hums, taking another sip of his skinny bitch. “He does seem to touch you an awful lot, when you are together, Max.” 

“That’s exactly my point, thank you, Charles.” Daniel is done, scoffing. 

Max, however, is just about to start another rant. “But Daniel, I told you your tactic wouldn't work. You pulled out of the negotiations too soon, it was very amateurish from you, you must admit at least that. Who leaves the negotiating table with no backup plan?” he gets into it, flaring his hands around like an octopus. “It just buggs me, you know, that you still blame me. You of course made a mistake, Daniel, and that happens but it was a stupid rookie mistake and you should have apologized-” 

Daniel stands up abruptly. “Hey, Max?” 

For a frightening second, Anne thinks he is going to deck his husband right there.

Max just hums, looking up. “I love you,” Daniel says surprisingly, bending down and giving Max a loud, smacking kiss. Then he turns around and leaves to the bar to stand next to Sebastian who resurfaced in the meantime. 

When Anne looks at Max, he is red as a tomato, glaring at the straw in his drink. “Well, what was I saying-” he stutters, interrupted by the laughter of the men sitting across from him. 

“I can't believe this shit is still working out for him, oh my god.” Alex wheezes. 

“Manipulative bitch,” George quips, still giggling.

Max is unimpressed. “Don't call him that.” he snaps and glares at him, George shutting up immediately. 

Charles looks at Anne and smiles a little. “I think maybe it is time for us to go home. I'm terribly tired. What do you think?”

Anne nods, pointedly not saying anything about noticing how Sebastian kept yawning at his spot beside Daniel. 

||

Daniel doesn't understand why he wakes up at first. It's pitch black, the blackout curtains doing their job properly. He stares at the ceiling for a bit, then closes his eyes to make himself fall back asleep. 

“Ik zal het oplossen.” Max meowls in Dutch next to him. “I just need more time! Ik zal het halen, dat beloof ik. No, no!” 

It clicks for Daniel, Max's rigged breaths, which he has not noticed before. The night air is suddenly too cold. 

He runs his hand up and down Max's forearm, not saying anything but his name to wake him up. When Max snaps out of his dream, his whole body violently twitches, and he slaps Daniel's hand away. 

“Hey, it's okay now,” Daniel isn't deterred, his hand finding a way to Max's hair, waiting him out. “It was just a dream. You are safe.” 

Max's breaths come out staggering like he just returned from his run. After a few minutes, he finally opens his eyes and looks at Daniel. A macabre grimace is on his face, something that wanted to be a smile. 

“I wasn't prepared again, Daniel,” he whispers. Daniel hums, not answering in any way, even though he subconsciously clenches the fist that's not playing with Max's hair. 

“You are safe with me,” Daniel says, trying to ease Max's shivering and make the haunted flicker in his eyes go away. He never shared any gruesome details about his time in military school. But. It's not like he had to. “Do you maybe want to take a shower?” he asks him and Max hesitantly nods.

They only fall back asleep when the birds are already chirping outside.

[clumsyraccoon]

OK, here it is...

Kusakabe Atsuya (JuJutsu Kaisen) x AFAB!reader

Reader is afab but I tried to keep anything else as gender neutral as possible, so description of body should be ambiguous. "pussy", "cunt" and "clit" used to describe genitalia. No pronouns used.

Adding details: reader is a foreigner sorcerer, mentions of previous make out session (I said it was self indulgent… >.>”), mentions of alcohol

Smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THANK YOU): fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Words: 2630

[I swear to the gods I don't know what (or who) possessed me while writing this O_O It's honestly my first time ever finishing a smut piece, so if you have comments and/or constructive criticisms, as always I will be more than welcome to hear them! ^^]

[Ah, yes, not beta read, minor edit just to not post a complete mess XD]

The now empty boxes of your take-out are set aside in a corner of the table, to make room for all the preparatory paperwork for the mission. Forms, applications, and all the paperwork required: you also had to learn all the bureaucratic minutiae in order to become a full-fledged sorcerer. You flanked several professional sorcerers since you arrived at Tokyo JuJutsu High, to better understand all the various processes and to see how every individual had their way of doing the work, and for the mission at hand it was Kusakabe-san turn.

After the end of class for that day, you both opted go to the home of one of the two: as much as JuJutsu High provided rooms and offices for their personnel, the both of you wanted somewhere more cosy and relaxed, as winter was fast approaching and being in the office when it was already so dark outside spoiled the mood of the man paired with you.

In that first year in Japan, you had the chance to meet a variety of exceptional and extravagant people that left you almost without breath sometimes, first above anyone else the person that scouted you: Gojo Satoru. But Kusakabe was somehow...different. He was indeed a powerful and skilled sorcerer, a Grade 1 nonetheless, but his demeanor was so in contrast with people like Gojo or Mei-Mei that he seemed almost...normal. And that was kind of a relief, especially for a foreigner that has been oblivious about the jujutsu society for most of their life. He was a good teacher and when he came to you, he used the same patience and tranquility in explaining things: just as he didn't treat any of his students as stupid (maybe apart from the occasional times when they drove him nuts), he never made you feel inferior, putting you at the same level of every other sorcerer and explaining things calmly and clearly.

“Now, we begin with filling the Prearranged Team Management Form.” his low voice takes you out of your own thoughts, bringing you back to the delightfully bureaucratic filled present. He slides a blank folder under your nose, pointing with his finger the protocol number. “It serves to organise who will be in the team and leave a track of which exact people will be at which exact location. Obviously 99% of the time it is filled out after the mission is over, due to the lack of advance notice...but I have to teach you properly, so here it is.”

As much as he hates missions, he is a very thorough individual. Every paper is neatly placed in front of you, a small semi-transparent differently coloured post-it at the corner of every folder, a way to categorise them depending on their function and who they should be delivered to in the office. You nod, trying to memorise number and use of said form, while Kusakabe lends you a pen. “Experience is the best teacher – he says, a small grin appearing on his lips – so I’ll let you do the honor” Another nod from you, while you put all the concentration you’re capable of into filling the form out. He snorts at your face, a smile tugging at he corners of his lips “Don’t worry, you’re not under exam.”

---

A couple of hours later and the atmosphere is far more relaxed, thanks to the majority of the papers being taken care of...and also to the couple of bottles of red wine you had brought from your country.

“There - you say, stretching and lying on the floor, since sitting on a chabudai for too long was something your body was still not that used to – should be the last one, right?” The wine in your system is not that much, you would not call yourself drunk right now, but it leaves a pleasant buzz throughout your whole body, your senses slightly enhanced by the alcohol. There’s also a pleasant warmth that radiates form you and, even if you’re wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you feel it slowly increasing. Turning your head towards him, you take the chance to glance at Kusakabe while he’s still preoccupied with checking papers: your gaze start from the hand on the floor he’s putting his weight on, then slowly trails up his hairy forearm (when did he took of his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up?!?), the slightly unbuttoned shirt, revealing just a hint of his also hairy chest…

“Yep, everything seems fine to me”

...his neck and jaw, idly moving whenever he turned his lollipop around in his mouth...(his neck and jaw that you explored oh so well in an half-drunk yet very aroused state after Ieiri’s birthday party...)

“Y/N?”

You snap out of your trance and meet his questioning gaze, the warmth inside of you making a sudden surge. But, somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed nor guilty. You never felt like that with him, always making you feel at ease, as if he was something solid, something certain that brings stability in the frenzy of life.

“Yes?”

“Are you drunk?”

A heartfelt laugh escapes your lips, while you pat the futon at your side, inviting him to join you on the floor. “No, just happy we finally finished all the boring stuff.” you answer, while he lies on his side near you, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting his head. You look up at him, trying to ignore the warmth that heavily radiates from his body as well.

“Thank you, Kusakabe-san” you murmur.

“Ah, I’ve already told you – he retorts, a small grimace on his features, while he takes the stick of his now finished lollipop out of his mouth – you can call me Atsuya.”

“Well, then... thank you, Atsuya.”

The way you say his given name is not even consciously intended, but it slips out of your lips nonetheless, taking down the raising heat by a couple degrees...but not in an unpleasant manner. Your own voice send a shiver down your spine, the way you said his name probably giving away way more than you had intended to, and you search his gaze, to see and assess how much damage you have done. His brown eyes are instantly locked into yours, a flick of hesitation already fleeting away to give space to...to… You don’t know how to describe what you see, you just feel the warmth of his body raising again and his already wide pupils taking over his irises completely, two dark pools you’re sure you’ll drown into, if you’re not careful. He doesn’t say anything, just exhales a tad too loudly than normal, while still not breaking eye-contact with you. His free hand slowly reaches for you and you don’t notice, still too enthralled by the soft, welcoming abyss of his eyes, until his fingertips brush against the exposed skin between your t-shirt and jeans, fingertips so hot they threaten to burn holes into your flesh, so hot they send another, more powerful this time, shiver up you spine. It’s your time now to exhale loudly, anticipation already making you squirm under his touch.

“Atsuya”

His name rolls out of your tongue another time, more shyly yet more pleading, a whisper that becomes a prayer on his ears and in his heart. How can he deny you, resist you anymore when you say his name oh so nicely? How can he find the strength to stop the both of you once again when you’re here, on his futon, looking up at him with that gaze, calling his name with that tone? How can he withdraw from your warmth? How can he suppress all that turmoil you cause in his heart every damn time he sees you?

He, simply, can’t.

So, finally, instead of fighting back what he now knows to be unbeatable, he surrender. He surrender himself to your smile that goes with your every “Good morning!”, he surrender himself to electricity that surges every time your hands brush by accident, he surrender himself to the optimism you sport every time you go on a mission together. He surrender himself to you, completely and undeniably.

The fingertips on your skin become a palm, sneaking under the hem of your t-shirt and gently caressing what’s underneath it. Your answer wants to be a soft gasp, but there’s no time for it to form before his lips descend on yours. The kiss is so sweet it is almost chaste, that first contact delivering all the feelings the both of you have tried to store away in the depths of your hearts, finally revealing what you have always been afraid to say. It feels liberating to finally let go, and you feel Kusakabe’s muscles relax in sync with yours, months of pining quickly dissolving from your bodies and souls.

One of your hand finds its way to his hair and gently tugs at it, with the result of making him part his lips and moan into your mouth, giving you the chance to deepen the kiss. The flavour of his lollipop floods your taste buds and you devour each other, almost like teenagers at their first shot at kissing, and your body already ask, no scream for so much more that you try to turn on your side to have a better position, but Kusakabe’s hand keeps you firmly in place. He pulls away just enough to look at you “Please, let me…” he murmurs against your lips. And in his tone there’s a plea that sink right into your heart and turns it into jelly. Replying with a nod you let yourself relax again on the futon, while his hand lifts your shirt all the way up, leaving your flushed chest exposed to him. He takes a moment to feel your erratic beating heart, palm pressed right in the middle of your chest, before resuming his exploration of your skin.

Despite the callousness of his hands, his touch is gentle, almost feather-like. Fingertips lightly brush against your skin, trailing around your nipples, but never touching them, down towards your navel, to your hips, up your sides. No haste nor hurry, but taking their damn time into exploring every inch of you, as if they were explorers into territory unknown to mankind up until now. They then skim just above the hem of your jeans, goosebumps now covering the entirety of your body, while his mouth descends to leave warm kisses on your chest. They are almost shy at first, sealed lips barely touching your skin, but as soon as your hand find its place in his hair again, they become more bold, tongue poking out to wet the path.

It takes a few minutes of kisses placed with utter adoration all over your exposed body, before Kusakabe muster the courage to latch on one of your nipples. And when he does, you start to sing. A moan finally fall freely from your parted lips, your body arching into his touch, craving him not only there, but everywhere on your burning body. Your free hand joins the other and entangles itself in his brown locks, instinctively squeezing every time you feel his teeth grazing against your sensitive flesh and receiving a pleased grunt from him in exchange.

There’s a trickle of saliva connecting your nipple to his tongue when he parts from you, and you look at it glimmering in the room’s light, almost enraptured by the vision, before your attention is diverted from it by the man’s hand. Slowly, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, his gaze fixated on you and, as you reciprocate his look, the thought that crosses your mind is that he’s insanely handsome. A blush covers the majority of his face and the tips of his ears, his hair is ruffled by all of your toying, and in his eyes you can see the real feeling he always nurtured for you.

Warm fingers slip past the waistband of your panties and push the clothes down enough your tights to leave your core exposed, the sudden chill air against you heated skin sending a shiver up your spine. Cupping his face with your hands, you kiss Kusakabe deeply, pulling him closer to you, while his fingers start to roam your tight like they previously did on your chest. Your focus shifts from his mouth to his neck (god how you missed it) and you unbutton his shirt, trying to spur him, but his touches are painstakingly slow, fingers too far away from where you wanted them most. Undaunted, you continue your attack, tongue tracing pathways of pleasure into his skin, teeth scarping and sinking, lips comforting and eliciting.

Circles are drawn on the canvas of your skin, smaller and smaller, until he finally reaches your cunt and you start to loose track of time, his fingers teasing your folds but never entering, caresses on your clit that never turns into that something more enough for you to finally cum. Squirming and whimpering through the sweet anguish he persists in doing, yet you hear the first signs of capitulations in his own grunts and moans.

Yet he persists.

Yet he persists.

Yet he persists.

Your breaths are hot and short against each other, the temperature of both your bodies so high now you might have a fever. Your face nuzzle in the crook of his neck, his ministration starting to make you see stars in your vision, while you desperately cling to his now exposed chest, hair soft under your touch.

“A-atsuya...p-pleeease…”

Deft fingers continue to caress your sex, eliciting a new series of moans and cries out of your mouth, his tongue trailing from your ear down your neck, leaving the skin burning in its wake. And you know that, if he continues to torture you like that, it’s no long before you come undone under him. So, with the last remnants of your will, the leg trapped in between his tries to grind against his hard, still clothed, cock, while one of your hand tries to get a hold of his forearm, in a futile attempt to slow him down or hurry him up, you’re not even sure of what you want to do anymore. You just now that you will not resist a second more.

As if he reads your mind, Kusakabe finally finally push a finger past your folds and inside your aching pussy, your lewd cry of pleasure making his dick throb in his pants. There’s no need for a second digit, as your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently, leaving you shaking so bad you cling to him for dear life.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, but as soon as the shivers start to subside, you look up at him “Need you...inside...pl-please…” is all you manage to say in between your broken breaths. A soft kiss on your temple “Are you sure?”

Just a nod from you and he’s unbuckling his pants, letting his cock finally free. Impatient hands pull him closer and he’s already lined up to your entrance and ready, but he takes his time to smile down and then softly kiss you, before entering in one go in your wet hole. It’s your turn now to moan into his mouth, while he hooks your legs over his arms, a mating press the best way to deal with all the too many clothes you two still wear.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your peaks, pent-up as you are, moans and cries being swallowed into hungry kisses, bodies trembling in unison. And as your breath slowly come back to normal and you both descend from your high, the way Kusakabe embraces you tells you everything you wanted to hear from him.

[sunshine304]

New Fanbinding! Two fics by KouriArashi

Now that the gift copies for @gingersnapwolves have arrived (and how quick the post was this time, I'm in awe!), I can post about my latest fanbinding project.

I had decided on binding both fics about, uhm, two years ago? XD I love all of Kouri's CQL fics; she's actually the reason I started watching the show in the first place, so it was a no-brainer to bind some of her fics!

I think I did the typset for "The Way It Wasn't" in 2021 but I had a specific design idea for the case in mind and didn't feel confident to tackle that just yet, so the printed version sat around for... a while. Sometime after that, I did the typeset for "Picking Up the Pieces", which took longer because of the photo edits.

I finally got around to actually making the books in May and I'm very pleased with the results, though there were a lot of stumbling blocks in both projects and I'm actually surprised that the finished books look good. XD I was sure I'd case in the block upside down after all the other mishaps, but at least I didn't do that. XD (I might have checked each book like five times, though... just in case. XD)

More pictures and info about the process behind the cut.

The books are supposed to be the first in a series of 5, each focussing on one of the great sects, and so I decided to use the same basic design ideas: colour-coded for the sect, the cut-out on the front, the little graphic on the back, same brand of Parisian marbled paper, frontispiece depicting the location, sect logo as title page, same design for titling on the spine.

For some reason, my camera refuses to really catch the foil colour from "Picking Up the Pieces" on the titling - it's a light pink/ rosé coloured foil.

The planned design for that book really caused me quite some grief, because it turned out that the foil I'd wanted to use (a light lilac one) did not work on this kind of book cloth. It's only for using a laminator / hot iron and so also doesn't work on paper with a foil pen.

I changed the colours for that books so often, going to a coated lilac cloth (where the foil works because it's coated...) but that didn't look good with the light coloured paper I used with the logo (no contrast), so I went back to this cloth and went looking for another foil. I tried rosegold which was okay, but then I lucked out and got the light pink one at a local shop.

For "The Way It Wasn't", I used a lot of official art:

For "Picking Up th Pieces", I used a mix of (edited) official art and photo edits I made myself. The "problem" of this fic is that Lan Wangji starts living at Lotus Pier, wearing Jiang colours most of the time and no forehead ribbon.

Also, Jiang Yanli is now sect leader and needed some fancy clothes. Luckily, Xuan Lu has acted in a lot of dramas recently where she wore some more dramatic robes that would fit a sect leader. I had to do colour edits of the robes at times and at one point had to photoshop Lan Wangji into a picture with her. My old Photoshop did not like all of this but I managed in the end. XD

I'm pleased with the results and might make a post with the photo edits at one point.

I also asked Kouri about her fancast for the OC Yu Zhiyi; that was a while ago. I wanted to include a picture of the character but didn't want to choose someone at random if Kouri already had someone in mind. Of course, I never mentioned that this was for the book; it was supposed to be a surprise after all! ;D

I'm really pleased with how the books turned out, especially considering all the stuff that went wrong in making the cases... XD I guess I can say I learned some things? XD

It's always fun if you mess up something on one case and think, "Ah well, this will be my copy then, I guess!" and then you mess up even worse on the other case! XD So Kouri got the book with more air bubbles in the logo because on the other case, the title was crooked. Argh!

I added some ornaments to distract a bit from that. It's also important to know that I'm a bit OCD about titles and stuff being crooked, I just hate it. This was a very sad moment for me.

But that's always the danger when fumbling around with that flimsy foil and the print-out. I'll live! :D

Materials used:

Printed on Clairefontaine Papago 80g (TWIW) and Clairefontaine DCP 100g (PUTP)

Case + endpapers "The Way It Wasn't":

- booklinen Brillianta - French marbled paper 120g - craft paper - hot foil (on brand)

Case + endpapers "Picking Up the Pieces":

- booklinen Imperial - French marbled paper 120g - Rössler letter paper 100g - hot foil (cheap stuff)