#i’m so curious to know if she’s ever been to my town!!!!

[dmysterioblog]

Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had your first kiss, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Rapunzel, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?”

“I would never leave.” Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to kiss,” you said, embarrassed.

“Aw, sweetheart,” she cupped your face, “You’re so dumb and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. made quick work of brushing your hair, making sure it was all tangle free. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”

[inkykeiji]

started off my day by listening to married in mount airy and thought i was doing pretty flippin well all things considered but then my boyfriend woke up n walked into the room like hi baby come gimme a hug and i just broke down in his arms v abruptly :/

[mrprettywhenhecries]

just a ride [b.c] (1/2)

Benny Cross ✗ f!Reader

✝︎ w.c. 2.6k words ✝︎ tags/warning(s). no use of y/n, reader character uses she/her pronouns, reader leaves boyfriend for benny, minor depiction of violence, alcohol consumption & nicotine use; this part's pretty tame honestly, but there will be smut in the next part ;3 ✝︎ a/n. The Benny brain rot has had me in a vice grip and I needed to write something before I exploded. Admittedly this is somewhat similar to how he and Kathy met in the film, but with my own spin on it, and will be expanded on in the next part. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

When your boyfriend brings you to an unfamiliar bar, the rough atmosphere and rowdy clientele are a little more than you bargained for, but when you lock eyes with the handsome biker across the room, your whole night's about to change.

“Where are we?” you asked as your boyfriend parked across the street from a seedy looking bar in a part of town you’d never been to before.  The otherwise empty street was lined with bikes and you turned to gape at your boyfriend.

“A biker bar?  Really?” you exclaimed, the idea almost comical.  “You wanna go to a biker bar?

Your boyfriend prickled at the insinuation behind your words.  “Yeah, so what if I do?  You don’t think I’m tough enough?” he questioned defensively and you just huffed a cynical laugh.

“Do you even know anyone that comes here?”

“Well, no, but–”

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your seat.  “This seems like a bad idea…”

“C’mon, if it gets too dodgy we’ll leave,” your boyfriend coaxed.  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Though you had your doubts, you didn’t argue further, stepping out of the car and crossing the street to the bar.  As soon as you stepped inside, you hesitated at the threshold, fighting to catch your breath against the assault to your senses–the sour stench of sweat and stale smoke instantly hitting you, burning your nostrils as you breathed it in.

Jostled by the crowd and press of bodies, you blindly followed your boyfriend in search of a free table, barely able to hear him over the blaring music and rowdy bikers yelling to be heard over the din.  Finding a lone empty table in the center of the room, your boyfriend claimed it, pulling out a chair for you and draping his coat over the one next to it.

“I’m gunna go get us some drinks, you stay here,” he said before taking off in the direction of the bar.

From your seat further away from the jukebox, it was a little more bearable and you could actually hear yourself think.  Letting your gaze roam the packed room, you noticed you were getting some curious glances from the bikers sitting nearby, but you found you weren’t the only woman there and that eased your nerves slightly. 

The sharp clack of pool balls connecting pulled your eyes to the pool table in the corner and your breath hitched as you spotted quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life leaning over the table, pool cue in hand.  As he lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting yours, you could’ve sworn time slowed, and you wet your lips, your mouth suddenly dry.

Realizing you’d been staring a little too long, you quickly tore your gaze away, glancing back a moment later to find him still watching you curiously.

Pulse pounding in your ears, you watched him set his cue down and head toward you, a swaggering grace to his movements as he approached.  Pulling out the chair on your left, he spun it around and straddled it, leaning forward to wrap his bare arms around the chair back.

“I’m Benny,” he said, introducing himself, a bright grin spreading across his tanned face as he leaned closer, dirt smudged across his cheek and a smattering of light freckles adorning his nose.

“Never seen you around here before,” he observed, tilting his head slightly, waiting for you to respond.

His low raspy voice sent a shiver through you and you watched him for a moment, wetting your lips before giving your name in return and his grin widened.

“You here alone?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at you expectantly.

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” you explained, lifting your shoulder in a rueful shrug, a regretful tinge to your voice.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Benny echoed, wrinkling his nose at the news, though you knew he'd had to have seen you come in together.

“‘Fraid so,” you murmured, losing yourself for a moment in his pale blue eyes, a soulfulness to his unwavering stare that held your breath hostage.

“S’a real shame,” he drawled, his eyes flicking up to focus on something behind you, and before you could reply, your boyfriend claimed the chair on your other side, squaring off across the table from Benny.

“Back off, man, she’s spoken for,” he exclaimed, puffing his chest out in an attempt to look tougher, though beside Benny he just looked foolish.

Benny looked between the two of you, an amused grin playing at the corner of his lips, and he held his hands up harmlessly in surrender.

“Alright, I’ll go,” he said, a hint of laughter to his voice as he rose from the chair, giving you one last lingering look before heading back to his spot by the pool table, grabbing his abandoned beer bottle by the neck and bringing it to his lips.

“What’s his fuckin’ deal, huh?” your boyfriend huffed, setting your drink down in front of you, tearing your gaze from the roguish stranger.  “Fuckin’ vulture, thinks he can take what’s mine,” he grumbled, taking a long drink from his bottle.

At his words, your brows pinched.  

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to come here,” you reminded him, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a slow sip as your eyes once more flitted toward Benny, studying him over the rim of your glass.  There was something about him that pulled at you, like a moth to a flame, and there was a part of you that wanted to be pulled, to let that flame engulf you whole.

It barely registered that your boyfriend had responded.

“Hey, you listening to me?” he asked, snapping you from your thoughts and you made a noncommittal sound.

“I think I could do this—“

“Do what?” you asked distractedly and he frowned.

“Ride bike.  Y’know, join a club.  Maybe this club.”

At your derisive snort his frown deepened.  “What?” he demanded and you finally looked at him full on.

“You aren’t like these guys,” you said bluntly, tired of him trying to be someone he wasn’t.  “You just wanna look cool, you don’t love it like they do—riding,” you clarified.  “To them their colours are like a second skin, not just a costume you can put on when you feel like it.”

“Oh please, I’m sure most of these guys are just weekend warriors,” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes, letting your gaze wander once more, observing the other bikers that filled the hazy room, their raucous laughter and boisterous conversations filling your ears.

The longer you sat there, the more you felt eyes on you and you began to notice several of the bikers staring at you before quickly turning to talk furtively amongst themselves.  Unsure if you wanted to know what they were saying or not, you turned away and for a moment your eyes met those of the man sitting alone at the table across from you—he was older, his weathered face lined from life and hard work, and an air of authority radiated from him.

When he noticed you looking, he nodded to you and his full lips pulled into a smile, easing the hard cast of his countenance.

“I need some air,” you murmured, standing before your boyfriend could respond.

“Want me to order you another drink?” he grunted, taking another swig of his beer as you slipped your jacket around your shoulders.

“Nah, I’m good,” you mumbled, stepping away from the table.

As you passed, the older man caught your wrist, holding you in place and he peered up at you, an almost fatherly expression on his bluff face.

“You don’t need t’worry,” he drawled knowingly, his heavy midwestern accent coating his words while his deep set eyes flicked to his fellows and back to you.  “Nothin’s gunna happen to yeh,” he assured and you nodded slowly, unsure how to respond.  Once he released you, you headed for the door, keeping your eyes straight ahead.  Despite his words, you still couldn’t quite shake the wariness that had seeped into you.

Slipping outside, you reached in your pocket for your pack of cigarettes, tamping one out and perching it between your lips.  As soon as the door shut behind you, cutting the noise from inside and the cool night air enveloped you, you felt as though you could finally breathe again.

Leaning back against the rough brick wall behind you, you searched your pockets for your lighter, swearing under your breath when it eluded you.  Pulling the cigarette from your lips, a heavy sigh followed and you let your head fall back against the bar wall, your eyes turning skyward–the inky depths above obscured by the light of the neon sign that hung overhead.

You barely noticed the door swing open again until the crunch of boots on pavement stopped next to you and you felt a presence looming at your side.  Figuring it was just your boyfriend, you let your head roll toward him, only to find Benny standing there, tilting his head as he watched you.

“Need a light?” he asked, pulling a worn Zippo from his pocket and flipping it open with a practiced flick of the wrist to thumb the wheel, holding the flickering flame out for you to light your cigarette.

Feeling Benny’s intense gaze on you, you took a deep draw through the filter, watching the cherry burn brightly before leaning back, and Benny snapped the Zippo shut, exhausting the flame in one fluid motion while you let your hand drop, lazily blowing the stream of smoke away from him.

“Thanks,” you murmured, rolling the cigarette between your fingers as you lifted your eyes to his once more.

“S’nothin’,” he drawled softly, lips twitching upward.  With the lamp overhead casting a halo over his tousled dirty blond hair, he looked like some sort of fallen angel clad in leather and denim, his rough garb so at odds with the tender cast of his face.

After several long drags, the nicotine began to soothe your nerves and you offered Benny a puff, your arm brushing against his as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“So who’s that older guy who was sitting at the table next to mine, the one who stopped me on my way out?” you asked, glancing at Benny’s profile, your gaze lingering on his distractingly long lashes that brushed his cheek each time he blinked.

“That’s Johnny,” he grunted, smoke curling from his lips as he answered, handing you the half spent cigarette back to finish off.  “He’s president of the club,” he explained and you nodded.

Silence fell over the pair of you, but all the while you could feel Benny watching you, searching your face for something even he wasn’t sure he was looking for.

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked suddenly, nodding toward his bike parked nearby and you followed his gaze, flicking a line of ash to the pavement.

“Sounds tempting,” you mused, taking one last drag before dropping the cigarette to crush under heel and pushing off the wall, dusting your hands off.  “But I’m here with my boyfriend, remember?”

“I remember,” Benny replied, huffing a soft laugh as he shook his head, his grin widening mischievously.  “It’s just a ride.”

“Uh huh,” you countered skeptically, though you couldn't help but match his smile, the excuses running through your head seeming flimsier the longer you held his gaze.

Before you could give a proper answer, the door swung open again and your boyfriend stepped out, his expression twisting when he caught sight of you and Benny together.

“I thought I told you to step off, man!  Think you can cut in on what’s mine?” he spat and you couldn’t help but gape at him, echoing his words incredulously.

“What’s yours?” 

“Will you just shut it and let me take care of this guy?"

Prickling with anger, you crossed your arms over your chest, your brows climbing as you shot him an indignant look and Benny’s grin melted from his face.

“Hey now.  Don’t talk to her like that,” he said, stepping up to him while subtly pushing you behind him and for a moment you saw fear flicker in your boyfriend’s eyes as he looked up at Benny, standing nearly a head taller than him.  Tamping his fear down, he wet his lips and opened his mouth.

“She’s my girl, and I can talk to her however the fuck I want.  This is none of your fuckin’ business, asshole.”

Benny shook his head ruefully, sucking his teeth.

“Seems like y’need someone to teach you some manners,” he drawled and you nearly laughed out loud at the thought of this brooding baby faced biker standing up for you against your own boyfriend–though if you were being honest, soon to be ex-boyfriend.

Just then the bar door opened and several of Benny’s fellow Vandals streamed out, forming a circle around the two men when they realized a fight was brewing, like sharks drawn to the scent of blood in the water.  Despite the growing crowd, your boyfriend’s bruised ego refused to let him step down and in a foolish bid to prove himself, he rushed forward, his brazen swing catching Benny square in the jaw.

Stumbling back, Benny let out a low grunt at the blow before straightening, shaking the punch off.

“That all you got?” he taunted, his deep drawl unphased.

Desperate to keep the upper hand, your boyfriend swung again wildly, but this time Benny was ready for it.  Ducking, he countered with a left hook, sending your boyfriend sprawling.  For one brief moment, you thought Benny wasn’t going to stop, even though your boyfriend was already down for the count, but as soon as he looked at you, the wild light faded from his eyes and he merely rolled his shoulders, working the tension free.

When he stepped up to his bike and threw a leg astride it, he glanced back at you over his shoulder, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

Giving your boyfriend one last disgusted look, you turned on your heel and climbed behind Benny, wrapping your arms around his waist as he lifted up momentarily to bring down his boot on the kick lever, putting his full weight into the jump and the bike roared to life beneath you, the vibrations spreading through your body like a wildfire.

Several Vandals whooped in excitement and you heard engines firing around you, but Benny had already pulled away from the curb and out into the street.  The stretch of road to the bridge ahead was deserted and the moon slipped out from behind the clouds to illuminate the way, shining off the damp pavement.

When you first hit the bridge, it was just you and Benny, and he threw his head back, letting out a howl that seemed to encompass everything you were feeling in that moment.  With the chill night wind whipping past you, stinging your cheeks and tugging at your clothes, it felt as though you were flying, Benny’s back pressed to your chest the only solid thing left in the world as everything else fell away.

You’d never felt so alive.

So free.

In that moment, you understood why the Vandals rode.

Overcome with an emotion you could only describe as childlike wonder, you swept your arms out wide, a wild crow of laughter bubbling up from the depths of your stomach just as the other bikers crested the hill to surround you and Benny, the roar of their engines nearly drowning out your cry.

Your rush of adrenaline waned, leaving you reeling and you quickly wrapped your arms tightly around Benny, pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade as his warmth seeped into you, and you knew you’d never be the same.

Part of you wondered if that had been Benny’s plan from the moment your eyes had met across the bar, but even if it had, you knew you couldn't hold it against him.

[luvsfics]

SERENDIPITY CH. 2 — house of the dragon

Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark!Reader

[ Sexual tension, awkwardness ]

Description: As Lord Cregan Stark’s most trusted adviser and sister, she had stayed by his side as the prince of the realm made his petitions for support of his mothers claim and to help aid their side in the war. Though, the prince had more of an effect on the younger stark sibling than the other.

series warnings: sexual descriptions, angst, adultery ??, death, violence, sexual tension, and more.

Series masterlist

War was coming. After years of peace and prosperity in the realm, the house of the dragon was divided and all would feel its wrath.

Cregan had assigned his sister to help the prince to his chambers, the empty one across from her own. Nervously, she did, leading his through the halls of their estate, touring his around as they passed rooms.

“And this will be your chambers.” She said as she opened the wooden door and stood to the side awaiting for him to follow her inside.

“I understand it may not meet your standards of living but it’s one of the best we have.” She stared at the ground as she spoke. Winterfell was beautiful, any northerner would agree but it wouldn’t meet the expectations of someone from the south, especially a prince.

“It’s perfect.” He said. Her gaze lifted and found the prince already looking at her. She felt small under his stare. Her mouth felt dry and her cheeks felt hot, how could a man be so beautiful? She could never know.

“I- Well…I should get out of your way so you may get comfortable. I’m right across the hall, if you need anything, my prince, I’d be happy to help.” She bowed before stepping towards the door to leave.

“Thank you, my lady. You are very kind.” He smiled at her as she left. She practically tripped over her own feet as she stared at his smile.

Her pace quickened to make it to her room as soon as possible. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding for when she shut her door. No man has ever made her feel or act like a fool in their presence.

“Gods, what’s wrong with me?” She spoke to herself as she pressed her palm to her forehead. She began pacing through her chambers, hands on her hips as she thought of what was wrong with herself.

A knock came at her door and in came her lady-in-waiting, Arina (Ah-ree-nah), quickly walking in and shut the door.

“I heard the prince of dragonstone was here. Did you get to meet him?” She asked excitedly, almost jumping with joy.

“Yes..” Lady Stark said slowly as she sat herself down on a bench in front of her bed. “What has happened?” Arina’s once joyful expression fell, immediately sitting down with her lady and taking her hands into her own.

“War is approaching. But…that’s not all.” Arina’s jaw dropping, “War? What do you mean? And what else has happened?”

The lady gulped, “The prince…I act like a fool in front of him, and I’ve only just met the man!” She laid her head against the post of her bed, embarrassed with herself.

“Well, he is a prince. Is he handsome?” She asked, curious to know. “Devilishly so.” She replied.

“Perhaps, you are falling for him. Someone has finally struck the lady of winterfell’s heart!” She smiled and placed a mocking hand over her chest. The lady scoffed, standing up immediately to get away from the annoying girl.

“I am not falling for him, I merely just met him.” She sighed.

“Many people have falling in love at first sight. I did with my Charlie. I was falling as soon as I saw those beautiful bright green eyes.” She gleamed at the thought of her husband.

Arina’s husband was the best blacksmith in town, they had met a few years ago while her and lady stark had went in town to aquire the new sword that Cregan had commissioned for her.

And now they are married with two children, one of the loveliest couples in winterfell.

“Well, I better get on going. I’ve got some chores to do before we have that feast tonight.” Arina began before heading for the door.

“Feast?” Lady stark questioned.

“Didn’t your brother tell you? For the prince.” She replied.

“I was just about to, but thank you, Arina.” Cregan’s deep voice sounded from the doorway. Arina turned herself to face the tall man.

“You are very welcome, My Lord. I will be back later to help dress you, My lady!” She called as she walked out.

Cregan let out a breathy laugh before stepping into his sister’s room, Grim following behind him. “I arranged this feast to welcome the prince to winterfell, as he is to stay for the next days.” Cregan explained, earning him a nod from his sister.

“I need you to inform him, I have lots to do before this quickly planned event.” He said, “alright.” She sucked in a deep breath. Lord stark took his leave down the hall, his large fur coat swaying as he walked.

“Come, Grim.” Lady Stark said as she stepped towards the Prince’s apartment, taking yet another deep breath before knocking. His door swings open, and reveals the handsome prince to her sights.

“Didn’t think I’d see you so soon, My lady.” Jacaerys smiled, “my apologies for disturbing you, my prince.” She began.

“No need to apologize, My lady. You’re not a disruption at all.” He said. Grim finds himself strutting inside the prince’s chambers, curiously looking around the room.

“Grim! No-“ she instinctively runs after him, forgetting herself in that very moment. She trips over the wood floor and before she hits the hard ground, a strong arm catches her.

“My lady, are you alright?” He asked as he placed both hands on her waist to steady her.

Her heart is pounding outside of her chest, she finds it hard to breathe in such a stuffy room. Her eyes shoot all across his face, taking in this moment to see him up close without even realizing it.

“I am very sorry, I didn’t mean to fall onto you. How rude of me-“ she rambled. Jacaerys chuckled, “You didn’t, My lady. I am perfectly fine. Now, are you alright?” His eyes meet hers, a concerned look is upon his face.

“I am alright, I am incredibly sorry for my dog, he is usually well behaved.” She said.

His touch felt hot thought the fabric on her body, her chest rose and fell quickly, the corset feeling rather constricting. A warmth in her lower stomach began to bloom, his gaze was intense and making her feel things she felt she shouldn’t have.

She felt his hands leave her waist. He coughed awkwardly, “I apologize for my forwardness. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t-“ she began, “so, what did you need me for, my lady?” He smiled kindly as they spoke at the same time.

Of course, the feast. She was so entranced by him that she almost forgot the main reason she was there.

“My brother has planned a feast tonight, in honor of your arrival. As a welcome to winterfell.” She said.

“I appreciate your hospitality. From you and your brother.” She grinned, nodding her way before seeing her way out, her dog following her as she pats her thigh as a commands

She reached the door as a hand caught hers, stopping her in her tracks.

Her head whipped towards the prince, his hand enclosed in hers.

“Shall I see you there, my lady?” He asked hesitantly, not wanting the interaction to end so soon.

“Of course, my prince.” She said with a soft laugh.

“Jace. Please, call me Jace.”

“I shall see you tonight, Jace..”

[ TAGLIST 💌 : ] @aegonswife

[sincerelyneo]

wildest dreams | z.cl

“lets get out of this town, drive out of the city”

💿now playing: wildest dreams by taylor swift

❯ summary: Chenle swears he’s going going crazy with cabin fever inside your shared house — and there’s no way you’re saying no to a late night drive with the roommate you so desperately have a crush on. Who cares if his original story was a lie and, secretly, he just wanted to be alone with you.

❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: roommates, friends to lovers, smut, so much fluff i have a tooth ache.

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, a lot of marking, bruising, oral sex (f receiving), heavy petting, lots of kissing, reader uses she/her pronouns, chenle is smitten for reader, very slight mention of possessive chenle, chenle takes his friend for a drive with the intention of fucking her.

It didn’t take much. Five words, to be exact.

The clock at the bottom of your screen reads 2:16 am when there is a low knock on your bedroom door. You twist your neck to look over your shoulder to yell for your roommate to come in.

Chenle pushes the door open just enough to stick his shoulder and head in. Dressed in a dark grey hoodie, light blue jeans, and his high-top converse; he already has his keys in his hand and is ready to bolt.

“You wanna take a drive?”

“Fuck yeah,” you say with no hesitation as you push your hands against your desk you were studying at. You grab the closest hoodie and pair of shoes before following him outside without another sentence exchange.

Sitting in the passenger’s seat of Chenle’s car, you watch the warm yellow streetlights create shadows on his face as he drives you both out of the city, looking for quiet roads with no other people around.

Low music flows from the speakers that were connected to his phone. The familiar lyrics to some song has him humming along as his foot steadies on the gas pedal. The beat is just loud enough to fill the comfortable silence.

With your head leaning against the headrest and arms folded over your chest, you roll your neck to look over at Chenle. His body is relaxed as he drives with one hand on top of the wheel and his other laying in his lap. 

His thick eyebrows slightly furrow as he pays close attention to the dark roads. The strands of hair curling ruthlessly around the edges of his forehead are messy, and they make the roommate in front of you look so fucking gorgeous, and he definitely knows it too. 

You take a deep breath as you cross your leg over the other, “So, why’d you wanna take a drive?”

He shrugs, stealing a quick glance over at you, “Was starting to feel a bit cooped up in that house.”

“Really, why didn’t you ask Jeno or Haechan to come with us? I swear I could hear them still playing video games?”

He raises his eyebrow at you. You and he both knew better than to disturb those two when they were five hours deep into a gaming session. 

“Okay, yeah, never mind.”

He laughs so hard that his nose scrunches up like it always does when he laughs genuinely.

The lampposts start getting fewer and farther apart the longer he drives. The only light in the car comes from the radio and the few random lights on his dashboard. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this far out of the city,” you say to break the silence.

“Well, I don’t drive as much but I know my way around. We’re pretty much out of the busy part now.” 

He leans forward in his seat as he presses on the brake for an upcoming stop sign. A sign in the road. Only left or right.

“Which way?” He asks. 

“Why do I have to pick?”

“I’m driving so you pick the direction.”

“Umm, okay, left then.”

He laughs to himself and it’s breathy, “always so predictable.” 

“Hey! I can hear you; you know!?”

He clicks his tongue and spins the wheel, one-handed. Your eyes follow as his fingers flex to grip back around the leather of the steering wheel once the turn is complete.

“Any idea in mind of where we’re going?” You ask, curious. 

He hums for a moment as he rests his forearm on the console between you, driving with his left hand on top of the wheel. “It’s pretty much just fields in this direction.”

Sitting up to get a good look up and out the windshield, you glance up at the night sky. It’s almost pitch black around here. Perfect. 

“Wanna drive for another minute or so; before stopping to look at some stars?” You offer. 

Chenle smiles as he turns his attention away from the road over to you for just a second, “Sounds good to me.”

You couldn’t help but flush in the darkness as you bow your head away from him. Warmth floods your face as your mind sticks to thoughts about him.

You and Chenle had always gotten along. A shared living room meant shared conversations; a shared kitchen quickly turned into shared meals; and your rooms being completely opposite from each other lead to awkward small talk. Often, Chenle appears in your doorway with offers of watching a new tv show with takeout from his favourite restaurant; or asking if he could just lay on your bed while you studied. 

You were good friends. Still, your mind couldn’t help but wonder if there was any possibility of something more. You adored him, honestly. 

Your gaze flicks down to look at his hand that was resting on the console. Staring at it, hoping it would just move at your will to get even closer; to touch you in any way possible.

Shaking your head lightly, purging the thoughts of his fingers and palms from your mind, you shift to look out the passenger window. The horizon starts to slow as Chenle presses his foot down on the brake to pull off the road, letting his car drive on the grass field that seems to go on for acres.

He puts the car in park and pockets his keys as you climb out of the seat, jogging a few feet away with your head craned all the way back to look up at the night sky. The light from the headlights casts your shadow as you spin on your heel at the sound of Chenle’s door opening and closing.

“I figured here was a good enough spot,” He calls out as he went around the back of his car to open up the trunk.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” You asked as you throw your hand over your eyes to squint, trying to figure out what he was grabbing.

The trunk closes with a slam as he reappears with a white-knitted blanket in his arms.

How long has he had that in his car? 

You spread out the blanket on the ground before he lays himself down on top of it, letting out a groan as he rests one hand behind his head. He looks up at you. His dark eyes starting to dilate.

His free arm rises up with his hand making grabby motions at you, “Come on. Lay next to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you take his hand to sit down next to him. Instead of laying down right away, you sit with your legs crisscrossed, dropping his hand the second you’re settled on the ground.

Chenle lets out a small huff as he sits up a bit to lean on his elbows. His brows draw in a frown. 

“What?” You ask him.

He shakes his head. 

“I said,” he leans over to hook his arm over your waist, pushing you to lay flat on the ground, “to lay next to me.”

Your hair flares out against the blanket as he lays back down on his side to look at you. He’s situated a couple of inches lower than where you ended up, the side of his head resting against your shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You didn’t listen to me.”

“Whatever,” you close your eyes for a moment as you roll your head to look up at the stars. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

“They always look like that.”

You huff, “You’re such a guy.”

“Excuse me?” He laughs as he tilts his head over at you.

You sigh as you rest your hands on your stomach.

“You don’t appreciate the beauty of everyday life. Yes, stars look the same, but we don’t see them all the time. So, they are pretty tonight.”

Chenle lets out another laugh, “I appreciate plenty of beauty every day.”

“Really? Like what?” You turn your head to look down at him.

“Jeno is a pretty guy,” he says without hesitation.

You let out a laugh as you agree with him, “hmm good point. Jeno is pretty cute.”

“But I’m cuter,” It sounded like a statement, but his voice got a pitch higher, almost like he was asking you a question.

You both nod your head as you look down at him for a second before turning back towards the stars, “Yes, Chenle, you are.”

He rolls onto his back but leaves his head on your shoulder to look up at the visible stars in the sky. 

He let out a huff, “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for. I don’t see shit.”

“Easy, I’ll show you,” you shuffle down to his level and flip onto your side to get your head close to his to understand where exactly he was looking. “Okay, over here. You see those cluster of staggered stars right there?” you raise your hand to point off to the right side of him.

“Maybe?” He furrows his eyebrows as he squints up at the dots in the black sky.

Taking a deep breath, you wiggle closer, body practically right up against his. Leaning over just a tad bit more.

“Follow my finger,” you turn your head to look over at him for a moment only to find him already looking at your face. “Chenle, come on.”

“Okay, okay, where?” He let out a sigh as he twists his head back to where your hand is.

“Right here,” your finger traces over the constellation. “Those stars are the Archer constellation.”

“The what?”

“The archer is another word for the Sagittarius constellation. I think that’s your zodiac—” your hand moves away from the set of stars realising you were being a bit full-on and obvious. 

Luckily, you could tell Chenle wasn’t paying attention. Feeling his breath on the side of your face and not looking at the stars or listening to anything you were saying. Thankfully, it was dark as all hell out here so he couldn’t completely see how nervous he truly made you.

“Chenle,” you sigh as he only hums back at you, “if you aren’t going to pay attention, why did you agree?”

Your noses are almost touching when you turn your head to look back at him. 

“Because you wanted to do this,” his voice is barely louder than a whisper. The answer is simple enough, but it speaks volumes.

“You’re the one who wanted to take a drive,” you try to deflect. 

“No. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “I thought you were going stir crazy?”

He bites his bottom lip as he slowly closes his eyes, realising you caught onto his tiny white lie. 

“Okay, fine, you got me,” he lets out a breath as he reopens his eyes.

You swallow nervously as you watch his eyes comb over your face as you fall silent once again. The only sounds now are the crickets and your breathing, but you could also hear the pounding from your own heartbeat. You felt like you were trembling from his gaze alone. 

The tension in the air is thick and heavy as the cool breeze blows past you. You want to break it, but don't know how. You don’t want to try and make a joke just for it to land flat and make the tension not only thicker but also awkward.

Feeling the need to break eye contact, your eyes fall down to follow the column of his throat down to his chest which is covered by the fabric of his hoodie.

“Please tell me I’m reading this right?” he asks you lowly; then he rolls over and lifts himself up onto his elbow to look down at you. 

You reach up to twist your finger around the string of his hoodie, letting your eyelids fall just a bit as you wrap the string between your fingers. You shrug slightly as you lick your lips, tilting your head to the side a bit.

“And what if you are?”

He doesn’t say anything else. This tension is definitely not friendly in any kind of way. Not with how close he is; with the way he is hovering above you. Not with the way you’re both breathing. And definitely not with the way you’re looking at each other.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask him, tilting your head back to look up at him. Your eyes search his, urging him on with your words to just take the bait.

Please. Take the bait.

His gaze flicks down to your lips before his hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, leaning down to slot your lips together.

The kiss doesn’t last long. He pulls back just enough to look at you — faces still close enough to have breaths shared.

You want him.

Tilting your chin up to chase his mouth, you kiss him again and you both equally melt against each other. His thumb starts running back and forth against your cheek; and his other arm keeps him up high enough not to crush you with all his body weight.

“W-we-,” He pulls away, distracted by your boldness, only to be brought back to what was important as you use your hand to grab his chin, and turn his head back to you.

“Pay attention.”

His eyes blow wide as a smile begins to spread across his face before you’re pulling him back down to connect his mouth with yours again. 

Your body wasn’t trembling but tingling with the way his hands had started caressing your side as your mouths kept moving harder against each other.

A shiver runs through your body once Chenle’s hand trails down to your waist and under your own hoodie to glide across your stomach for a moment before going back to your side. Your arms wrap around his neck while your hand tangles itself into his hair. His clustered strands successfully keep your fingers against his scalp.

Accidentally, pulling on his hair, he lets out a groan and you can’t help but have a reaction of your own as you arch your back into him. 

Chenle shifts to move completely over you and your legs fall open without a second thought as he settles himself in between them. The kiss is growing more desperate and rougher with every passing moment.

He finally pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His nose brushes against the side of yours as you take a break to let air back into your lungs.

“I never thought you’d be into me,” Chenle breathes out, his eyes closing as he tries to calm his racing pulse.

“That’s ridiculous,” you reply as you lay your hand on the back of his neck to pull him back in for another kiss. Biting his lip when you pull away to speak this time, “You’re hot as fuck.”

You lean back up to kiss his jaw. “A complete loser, maybe…” you keep trailing up his jaw with every compliment you give him.

“…but a sweet and thoughtful, a confident and cute…” 

When you reach his ear, you couldn’t help but bite lightly before saying, “Incredibly sexy loser.” 

His entire body shivers as he pushes you back down, flat against the ground to connect your lips again, his tongue sliding into your mouth as a gasp flies out of you.

You don’t know how you found the consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist and use your heels to push him even closer, but you do, and his reaction is completely welcomed as he lets out another guttural groan.

Soft pants fill the air as you’re completely wrapped around each other. A whimper escapes every so often from your mouth as Chenle shifts upwards to place his arm by your head to tower over you. His lower body is grinding against yours and the friction feels amazing. 

“Chenle,” you moan out as you felt his fingers dance across the skin of your stomach again. The hand that isn’t keeping him upright almost never leaves your skin.

When he does pull away, his lips are red and swollen. Eyelids half-lidded, a red blush prominent on his cheeks all the way down to his neck. 

You did that. 

You made him like that. 

His thumb hooks into your sweatpants and traces the sensitive skin just under your underwear.

“I want to taste you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as a whine comes out of your throat. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper and throw your head back. 

He didn’t even have to do anything, simply his words and pretty much him alone could pull such a reaction out of you.

You kick off your shoes as he pulls your pants down, along with your underwear in one fell swoop, tossing them to the side. You feel like you’re going to pass out any second from how worked up you are.

“You’re soaked, baby,” Chenle says as his thumbs rub circles into your hip bones. The cool air raises goosebumps to the exposed skin of your now naked thighs. “You okay with this?”

“Yes, just please,” you beg as your hands grip at his shoulders, trying to move him back to you.

He presses light kisses up your thigh, completely avoiding where you needed him. His nose brushes against your skin as he keeps moving upwards towards your stomach, raking up your hoodie and shirt to your ribs. His rough fingers start trailing across you as he makes his way up towards your boobs.

“Chenle, please,”  you moan, as his hands slid back down towards your hips. “Stop teasing.”

“Easy,” he lifts his gaze to look up at you. A boyish smirk is now plastered on his face. His lips touch your skin as he speaks, “I’ve waited months for this. And I sure as fuck think I deserve to take my time with you.”

You let out a shaky sigh, “Well, I need you to do something, anything!”

You try to push him by his shoulders to get him to move in the right direction, but he doesn't even budge. Instead, his thumbs dig hard enough into your hips that you knew there would be bruises in a few hours. Hissing but also throwing your head back, your fingers grip the fabric of his hoodie, and you could feel the smile on his face against your ribs.

“You like being marked up?”

All you could do is nod as his grip somehow tightens.

“Words. I need words.”

“Yes,” was all you manage to get out. 

“Good, ‘cause I intend to mark every part of you,” he says as he starts to move back down your body, finally going to the place where you really needed him. 

Your breath hitches when you eventually feel him lick a stripe up your folds. “You taste amazing. I’m never letting you have anyone else.”

Letting out a shaky moan as fingers raked through his hair, you say, “I don’t want anyone else.”

Twitches consume your whole body every time his nose hits your clit. Your hips buck every single time until he uses one hand to keep them against the ground.

“Stop. Moving.” He warns through tight teeth. 

But you couldn’t, not with his skin brushing up the insides of your thighs with his every move. Not with the way he glares up at you like you were his last meal.

The feeling of his tongue all over your cunt shocks your entire nervous system; whimpering, as his lips attack and suck at your clit, your hips moving wildly from the newest sensation.

“Fucking stop moving,” his voice had somehow gotten even deeper, and you couldn’t help but clench around nothing.

You whine when he lifts his head a couple of inches away from your pussy. His mouth and jaw shiny with your slick. “Gonna be a good girl?”

Your fingers start to shake as you try to keep them against his scalp. You nod dumbfoundedly. You would do anything to get him to go back to what he was doing.

“Yes, I will. Please, keep going. Please.”

Without another word, Chenle adds two of his fingers as his mouth goes back to your clit. Moans turn into yelps and whines turn into whimpers as you just bask in the feeling of having all his attention on your cunt.

Somehow finding the strength to pick your head up, you could clearly see Chenle grinding his own hips into the ground, giving himself some friction.

“Fuck,” you whine out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting it fall backwards again and hitting the ground with a thump. The sight of seeing him chasing some of his own pleasure while eating you out was enough to coast you straight into the beginning of your orgasm.

You could feel him smile against your wet pussy. His fingers keep their pace, but you swear he starts sucking harder while intertwining kitten licks to your clit.

“Chenle.” You moan, “Chen-, please. I’m-”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to speak as he starts to curl the fingers he had inside of you, resulting in your thighs beginning to twitch and tremble. 

With your back arching, you sing out his name in the most delicate moan as you crest over. His hands try their best to keep your lower body flat on the ground to let you ride it out. You could feel your voice starting to go raw from how good he was making you feel.

You can’t wait to feel him inside you.

Your chest starts heaving as Chenle slowly makes his way back up your body, placing kisses on every spot of skin as he rises up to your face. He has a stupid, dumb smile on his face as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.

“That good, hmm?”

You’re unresponsive, all the muscles in your body starting to relax as he begins to leave small bites and kisses on the side of your neck. Your hands roam over his back as you try to piece your mind back together.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out. You let out a chuckle yourself as you drag your nails against the hoodie on his back, “Yeah, it was that good.”

Your eyes open as you feel a new rush of need, watching his shoulders move while he tuns his tongue against the side of your neck. The feeling of his hard cock against your sensitive cunt, the same place his face was just a moment before, made you slide your hands down to the bottom of his top.

You need him to have less clothes on. You want to feel him just as much as he felt you.

You tug on the bottom of his grey hoodie, signalling to him you wanted it off. He obviously gets the hint as he rises to his knees while still in between your legs to pull the article of clothing off. His shirt follows a split second before it falls back down to its proper spot.

“Take off your fucking pants,” you order him as you pull up his shirt, trying your best to find the button and zipper of his jeans with your fingers still shaking.

He laughs as he sits on the back of his knees, “Whoa, chill. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not close enough,” you use whatever core strength you had left in you to lift your body up to kiss him once more. “You’re not inside me.”

He closes his eyes and lifts his eyebrows while swallowing thickly, “Fuck, okay.”

The second his cock springs free from his pants, your hand goes straight to it, stroking it as he sucks in a breath and almost doubles over. A moan falls from his mouth as your thumb runs over his tip.

His hand snakes back to your face to cup your cheek as he kisses you, slowly pushing you back against the ground. He knocks your hand away from his cock as he positions his body back on top of yours. Grabbing your thigh with his other hand to move your leg to wrap around his waist.

“Sure you wanna do this?” He mumbles breathlessly against your lips as he runs the tip against your pussy.

“Yes,” you slur, drunk on his attention.

Gasps come out of both your mouths when he pushes himself in. Eyebrows pinching as you tilt your head back. He takes that opportunity to dip his head and start kissing and nipping at your open collarbones.

“Oh my god,” you whimper. The stretch from his cock burns but also feels too fucking good. He is like the perfect size — made entirely for you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head once he fully stills inside you till the hilt. 

Chenle pulls his head away from your neck to rest his forehead against yours. His harsh and heavy breaths hit your skin as he searches your face for any discomfort, “All good?”

You nod, “Move, please.”

You don’t have to ask twice as he begins to drag his cock in and out of you. Hitting the perfect places every time he thrusts, each time mewls and whimpers of noise escape your throat without much thought.

You’re loud — you both are. You knew you were, so it was a good thing you were in the middle of fucking nowhere because there was no way you were going to silence yourself.

Your hands slip under his shirt and pull it up to his shoulder blades where you dig your nails into his pretty skin. He lets out a hiss as his thrusts get harder resulting in you creating even more scratches on his back.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one leaving marks,” Chenle huffs as he pushes his hips hard enough that there was an audible slap from your hips meeting.

“Then fucking do it.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He rucks your hoodie and shirt back up and over your bra and drops his head to start his work on the swell of your breasts. All you could do is sigh and wait until later to see the extent of his creation. The image of seeing all the bruises and marks on your chest makes your pussy flutter around his cock, resulting in Chenle groaning against your skin along with his hips stuttering.

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You challenge and clench around him again to be a brat.

“Because,” he lets out through his teeth as he gave you one particularly rough thrust that makes your entire body rock against his, “I won’t last if you keep at it.” 

You keep clawing at his back as his thrusts don’t falter nor lose any force. The smirk on his face comes back. 

“And I don’t think you want this to end anytime soon.”

You don’t know if you are going to last much longer. The pressure of his body against yours, the hard yet rhythmic fuck of his hips, the bites and licks against your chest, not to mention the stretch in your cunt. 

Your mind was putty and Chenle was the only consistent and clear thought in it.

Your legs somehow get impossibly tighter around his waist as his finger comes to rub circles into your swollen clit. The only things coming out of your mouth are small and fast pants — with the occasional drop of his name — as your eyebrows furrow and your head throws as far back as it could go.

“You’re close,” he softly speaks into your ear, his pace never slowing. “I can feel you getting close.”

“Please, please,” you beg.

Chenle’s fingers quicken on your clit, as his other hand grabs yours to intertwine your fingers with his and place them next to your head. Your other hand grips his bicep as your thighs start to twitch again.

“Come on. Do it,” he presses his forehead into your temple, as whimpers and pleads start falling from your lips.

It feels embarrassing how fast you’re cumming around his cock, but with how good it felt, you couldn't hold out any longer. His name is the last thing on your tongue as your second orgasm takes over all senses and muscles in your body. 

Chenle slows his pace but keeps moving as he mouths at the side of your neck, creating more marks as you’re high on pleasure from him.

“Welcome back,” he smiles into your skin after releasing it from between his teeth. His lips move to your jaw as the hand on his arm loosens its grip.

“Hi,” your voice is light and floaty as Chenle lifts his head to look at you. The sweat on his forehead makes his hair wet and sticks his bangs to his skin.

His face is bright red as you lift your hand to push his hair back, running your nails against his scalp.

“You feel good?” he asks as he was barely moving. His hips move back and forth just enough to feel something instead of him being still.

“Very,” you smile at him before slipping your hand out from his and using both of them to push him over onto his back with you in his lap, never disconnecting. “It’s your turn now.”

Chenle’s eyes widen as you lean down to give him one kiss, which he eagerly accepts before you rise to your knees to drag him half out of you just to harshly sit back down. You happily swallow the moan that comes out of his mouth as you start to bounce on his dick.

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses as you lean yourself back to rest your hands on his chest, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you.

His fingers dig into the sides of your thighs as you ride him, his own thighs starting to shake as his face scrunches up from pleasure. The feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching inside you makes you want even more — despite all that he already gave you. 

Your slurred name comes from his mouth giving you the power boost you need to keep up your own pace, ignoring the burning in your thighs. His eyes shut tight as his head rolls to the side. His short, blunt nails were definitely leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin, but you’re too riled up to care. 

You lean down to kiss his jaw, as he sputters out curses and moans while you keep grinding down on his cock. Trying to give him a mind-blowing orgasm like he had given you, you clench around him.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck-” he cries out as his hands slide up to your waist, grip tightening as your mouth went up to his ear.

“Cum, baby,” you duck down just enough to kiss the skin right under his ear. “Cum inside me.”

You give him a low breathy moan that apparently pushes him just over the edge. His entire body stilling and trembling as you feel him cum inside you. 

Gasps fly out of his mouth as he slowly opens his eyes. The look on his face is one of lustful intoxication. His hands come up to your face to pull you back over to his mouth to give you a kiss as he rides out his own high.

“Holy shit,” he mutters as you smirk down at him.

“You feel good?” You ask him the same thing he asked you.

He scoffs and blinks a few times, “I think I literally lost my mind for a moment.”

You lean over to kiss his cheek, beaming from the praise as you slowly raise yourself to slide his softening dick out of your pussy. Being careful not to overstimulate him with how sensitive he had to be. 

Before flopping back down next to him, you grab your phone from your discarded pants to check the time. Instead, you’re greeted with a few texts from your other roommates.

Jeno 2:37 am

Where are you?

Haechan 2:38 am

Did you leave with Chenle?

Jeno 2:40 am 

Could’ve at least let us know you were leaving, we thought you were kidnapped. 

Jeno 2:42 am

Well, have fun. 

Haechan 2:45 am

Use protection ;) 

You stifle a laugh as you toss your phone back to the side as Chenle looks over at you while slipping his boxers back on.

“What’s up?” He asks as he leans back on his elbows. His face is still relaxed and his eyes half-lidded, obviously still in post-orgasm bliss.

“Jeno and Haechan were wondering where we were,” you answer him as you go to find your underwear, but grimace when you feel something wet slide down the inside of your thighs. 

Biting your lip, you look over at Chenle, “You got anything to clean myself up with?”

He twists his mouth and squints his right eye as he tilts his head back and forth, “I got some napkins in the car, but… I have a better idea.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Which is? I’m not a fan of being sticky.”

Chenle smirks at you as he leans over to kiss you, pushing you down on your back again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be clean in a few minutes.”

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 

There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

[shirefantasies]

LoTR Characters When You Give Them Flowers

Sorry for the absence, been crazy times 😅 Just something cute I couldn’t get out of my head, enjoy~ Also, correcting my Faramir drought let’s frickin go 🤙🏻

Aragorn

The last town you’d stopped in, there’d been a girl. A little thing, hardly more than seven or eight years old, and there she stood with a basket in hand. She was selling flowers, long and dainty stems with white blooms, no doubt to help her family sitting off in the distance.

The moment he laid eyes upon her, Aragorn had bent over, pressing the loaf he had just bought into her hand and whispering some words of hope you wished you could hear. Heart leaping, you watched him move along before approaching the girl yourself.

~

When night had fallen and a fire began crackling, you took the flowers from behind your back and held them out to the ranger you so dearly loved. The smile that instantly graced him was truly a worthwhile blessing.

“I know where you found these,” he remarked, turning them gently over in his hand as his smile softened.

You mirrored the expression. “I thought they could use a bowl of soup to split the loaf with. And you deserve a gift, even to the smallest gifts of the earth.”

Wordlessly, Aragorn took your hand with the one not holding the flowers, clutching it tight as his blue eyes gazed into yours.

Legolas

“Do you elves know anything of the language of flowers?”

Legolas’s brows furrowed a bit at that, and you couldn’t help giggling at the sight of his expression, his next choice of words. “Words of the trees, yes, but flowers? Perhaps an old tale.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, still smiling, “my people have quite the elaborate custom around flowers. Different blooms in different colors make quite unique statements. Take roses for instance- they come in a whole slew of colors.”

“I see,” he nodded, “so a yellow rose would speak volumes apart from a red one, then?”

Your heart leapt at Legolas’s choices, his unwitting contrast between the blossoms of friendship and passionate, deep love. “Indeed. There are even flowers that say ‘your letter was received’! But if this is unfamiliar to the elves, any flowers would be quite the surprise, would they not?”

“We have always had appreciation for the earth’s beauty.”

You took that as as close of a yes as you’d get, shaking your head as you shifted in the hard base of your seat, turning back to grab the vase of flowers you’d made for your friend, the one who made your heart beat like no other. White lilies could symbolize mourning, but also that one’s love was pure. Perfect, perhaps, if unrequited. Pink irises for hope, though. Hundred-leaved roses in pink for a love truly sincere. Bursts of snow and sunset pink dotted with faint yellow, all curated by your hand to shine with words you hadn’t the heart to speak aloud.

“As do I. These I arranged for you, in fact!” Hands curling around the vase, you held your gift aloft.

Legolas’s dark eyes lit up, mischief crossing his handsome face. “Now that I’ll be guessing the meaning?”

You flushed, rising from your seat as his hands covered yours, accepting your offering. “Well, I was just curious if you’ve heard of-”

“Oh, it is far too late for that! I’m certain Lord Elrond has books on the subject. By tomorrow I’ll be an expert, and who knows? Perhaps you’ll find some flowers of your own.”

You couldn’t help shakily smiling as Legolas’s eyes peered into yours glittering so, his hands still resting warmly over yours.

Boromir

“Boromir! Look!”

The man in question turned his head at the sound of your voice, watching as you bounded his way with hands full of flowers. Their bright color perfectly brought out the tone of your twinkling eyes, eyes that glittered unlike anything Boromir had ever witnessed before.

“Lovely, truly,” he inclined his head toward them as you reached him, “the finest. Where did you come by these?”

“Off at the far end of the meadow!”

Boromir chuckled deeply. “The firewood may have been forgotten, then?”

Pouting suited you, didn’t it? Adorable indeed. “Well, I just saw these and-”

“Worry not,” he slid an arm about your waist, “firewood is no emergency. You deserve this small joy- we all do.”

Glancing down a bit, you extended your hand, raising your treasure such that it practically brushed you both as it connected you. “Well, they are for you.” Were you flushing?

“For me? Well, what a gift! I suppose they do suit me more than you. After all…” Smiling, Boromir tightened his grip around you just a bit. “The most beautiful blossom in leagues is right here. If you keep this little bouquet they will envy you forever.”

Gimli

You stand beneath the awning’s shade, swaying slightly as you tend to the baskets placed along your cart. Your favorite is one filled with mountain poppies collected near the base of the snows, cheery and delicate and brisk as it had felt to be there trimming them. Truly you love your life, though it gets lonely having only plants to speak to. Sometimes you find yourself drifting into fantasy, imagining someone to protect you. You like to think you’re no damsel in distress, but the truth of the matter is you’ve never been a fighter and the village ravagers have been drawing closer.

~

A woman purchases a simple vase of sunflowers, nodding gratefully as you pass them to her. Behind her, though, emerges a shorter figure- a dwarf, by the looks of his armor and beard. You smile. That trip to the mountains introduced you to a host of very friendly dwarrowdams who bid you stay in their boardinghouse, boisterous though it may have been.

“Good afternoon,” you greet him from aside an arrangement of daisies.

“Good afternoon indeed! Tell me, though, why one as fair as yourself is hiding behind a lot of old daisies, eh?”

Flushing, you shrug and step around the side of the cart, removing all obstructions. “I suppose I’m just a bit used to it is all. Were you looking for anything in particular?”

The dwarf shakes his head. “Nay, I was just struck by the sight of the one smile this town seems to have.”

It is a fair point. Rohan has been downcast of late, hope in short supply with all the attacks. Your lot was seen as mere peasants in the way of it all.

“Times have been hard. The orc packs have been running rampant for a long time. I- I don’t know how much longer we can hold out.”

Smirking victoriously, the dwarf leans on his axe. “You wouldn’t happen to mean the pack of stragglers that just got slaughtered, would you?”

You lit up. “You’ve seen them?”

“With my own eyes. They certainly won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Pick anything you’d like here, please, it isn’t much, but it is the least I could do to repay your gift,” you insisted, waving a hand over your display.

He scanned your cart before a look of comical shock burst across his face at the poppies. Noting it, you lifted the basket gingerly into his hands.

“Those are my favorites, too! And they are yours.”

“Only if you keep one to remember me by. Gimli, son of Glóin,” he introduces himself sweepingly, outstretched hand deftly producing a poppy to hold out your way.

Frodo

“What is this one?” Frodo inquired, holding up a small leather tome.

“Oh,” you tilted your head, “that one is a bit different. Here, let me show you.”

Shifting to sit at his side, you took the book from his outstretched palms and opened it, revealing pages blank save for the flowers you’d pressed in them, splashes of yellow, red, purple, green.

“I try to add one from everywhere I’ve been,” you added, turning the pages, “I even have a page from the Shire.”

The spread of the next pages revealed stems of lavender you’d plucked from gardens, Shire daisies, even some pansies you’d plucked from Bag End itself, and plenty more, too. Frodo’s bright eyes widened at the sight of it, a smile growing upon his lips.

“This is a treasure to see- a reminder of home, and one I can touch, too,” he sighed, brushing his fingers softly over the crisp petals, “I remember the feel of them again.”

His relief was practically palpable in the air as his eyelids fluttered shut in content, smile growing. Heart swelling, you pushed it closer to him.

“It’s yours.”

“I can’t-” He protested.

Handing the leather-bound book over to him, you nodded. “Yes, you can. Your happiness, your relief, is a much greater gift than these to me. The earth will renew it over again on my travels,” you told him with a smile.

One of Frodo’s hands left the petals long enough to linger atop yours. “I will never be parted from it.”

Sam

“Sam! Oh, Sam, wait up!”

Turning his golden head your way, Sam smiles the moment he sees you, sending your heart leaping from your chest as he speaks your name softly in reply.

“What is it?”

“Well, nothing, really,” you reply shyly, hands behind your back, “I just saw these and thought of you.”

Alight is the only word you could have used to describe Sam’s face as your hands leave your back and bring forth the bunch of little bluish-white blossoms you had just discovered a little off the road.

“Absolute beauts, those are,” he breathes with a grin, “harebell, they’re called. They like to grow in rocks for some reason, the little buggers.”

His knowledge sweeps you off your feet, but you can’t help asking. “Do you like them?”

“Of course I do! These are some really pretty ones, very bright indeed!”

Holding them out, you giggle nervously. “Well, good, because they’re for you! I picked these to give you, Sam.”

Jaw dropping and green eyes widening, Sam reaches forward and gently takes the miniature bouquet from your hands. “You mean it?” He asks with another bright grin.

“I really do,” you smile and nod.

For the rest of the day those harebells don’t leave Sam’s hand, and any time he has a moment’s idleness he’s looking at them, fingers gently caressing the blossoms as he glances your way with a smile.

Merry

Normally Merry dipped you. But you changed that that night. Normally he was the one to sweep you off your feet, charm you, but it was you who stole his breath away that night. The way you took his hand and pulled him closer into the dance, twirled him and brought him inches from your face, only had him wanting more.

What really got him, though? The rose you’d handed him at the end of it all. Such a simple gesture and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes off the thing. Or you.

Surely you noticed. The two of you were quite comfortable, else you wouldn’t be dancing so, but no one had gone beyond any teasing. It was all in good fun, unspoken attraction that suddenly grew, enveloping and consuming Merry’d beating heart as he looked at you with new passion. He needed someone who made his heart race so by his side. Someone like you could keep him up being the best hobbit he could be.

And that was why he marched right up to you later in the evening, taking one more massive swig of ale before he approached, rose twirling between his fingertips all the while.

“I hope you meant this,” he nodded down to the bright red bloom, “as much as I mean this.”

Your lips parted, the beginnings of a question fell from them, but not much escaped before your lips were pulled into Merry’s, your hands falling against his chest.

Pippin

Never had you felt so light as when you were around one mister Peregrin Took. All your time with him, it seemed, was spent in joy, laughter, comfort. One look from him was all it took for a smile to creep onto your face. One song from him and it was all you could do not to kiss him right then and there.

For your part, though, you weren’t sure how he felt, thus you acted accordingly, enjoying the time you had with him as much as possible without pushing your feelings. Well, not too much- he was quite fun to tease, after all!

A flower had caught your eye as you strolled, some little cousin to a daisy bursting from brush in a merry little yellow spark you couldn’t help taking for yourself.

Well, mostly. “For you,” you said in a playful lilt, holding it out his way.

The manner in which his smile and shoulders rose had you shyly grinning. “For me?” He repeated, ecstatic as he was incredulous.

The moment you nodded the flowers was all but snatched from your hand. “Where do you think it would look better, here?” First he tucked it into his mess of curls. “Or here?” Tucking it next into the buttonhole of his coat, he grinned at you.

Giggling, you told him he didn’t have to wear it.

“Oh, I want to. I want the whole of Middle Earth to know you’ve given me this gift.” Comical as his words were, the shine in his eyes told you Pippin was sincere.

Faramir

The steward of Gondor had gone up before the people to address them on some perceived victory. To his side he had pulled up his son, the elder one, and named him spearhead of it all. Boromir was a great man, certainly, but so in no shorter words was his brother Faramir, the dearer sibling to your heart.

The moment you met Faramir in the crowd of people, mostly men celebrating in their keep outfit, dented as it was, you rested a hand upon his shoulder. “Let nobody so insignificant taint your victory, Faramir. Were it not for you, half the city would not even be standing.”

“We could have kept it as it was if we-”

“No,” you shook your head, leaning a bit further on him, “none of that. You are a man, not a miracle worker. And so is your brother and everyone else in your family. You have fortitude of mind, strength of heart.”

“Yet less the swing of a sword,” Faramir chuckled.

“The swing of a sword alone a kingdom does not make,” you teasingly chastised, waving a finger, “besides, you have something none of them will ever have.”

“And what is that?” He asks, gently lifting your hand off his shoulder and up to his lips.

“My heart,” you reply, pulling one of the flowers woven into your hair out to press it into his other palm.

Faramir pulls those petals to his lips, too, twirling the stem thoughtfully with a hum. “Then I am, indeed, blessed.”

Eomer

Every time it felt like your heart would shatter. He left again and again but it never got easier wondering if the man you’d grown to love would be torn from you in a brutal battle, one lax moment ending it all.

Tears pricked at your eyes as he looked into them with a smile far too easygoing to you. Too assured.

“Do not look so defeated,” Eomer told you, reaching down with a hand to caress your face in a way that sent your heart leaping, “it’s a small raiding party, that is all.”

“I know, I just-” Your breath hitched, words caught in your throat. “I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

At that, he smiled, releasing his hand again. “You should worry more for the orcs.”

“Still, though, here,” shaking your head, you produced the bundle of flowers you’d tied together for him, face warming, “take these. For luck.”

Eomer’s smile widened even as his horse grew a bit restless; giving its mane a quick pat, he reached down to accept your proffered gift. Sweeping some golden hair off his shoulder, he tucked your blossoms into his saddle.

“Now I know I’ll make it,” he replied, and with a wink he rode off.

Needless to say, he has gifts of his own planned when he returns: a confession, once and for all, and a kiss.

Haldir

"Come now, keep up!"

"Whatever for?"

Laughing, you turn to face Haldir once more and see him ascending the spiraling steps behind you with a look of exasperation. Perhaps, too, amusement. Long, fair hair whips about his face in the breeze as a smile teases onto his lips.

“Is it so bad to spend a little time together?” You shot back merrily, feet still eagerly tapping upon every plank that raised you higher amidst the boughs.

“I only ask because I know of your schemes,” Haldir teases in response.

“If you must know,” you stopped, hands on your hips before you waved one about a spray of vines snaking over the tree’s bark, powder-blue blossoms extending from them, “my scheme was to see if you'd noticed these in your travels."

"I had not," he murmured in response, stepping to your side to caress a pale petal gently, warmth filling you at his proximity.

With a small smile, you took up the age-old habit you'd developed in childhood so many years past, deftly plucking and weaving stems together as Haldir watched with amused interest. Unsure as you were how much time passed, he stood stock-still even as you finished your work, placing the crown of flowers atop his head.

"Here you are, My King," you jested with a smile, taking two steps forward.

Grey eyes staring into yours, Haldir took your hand, shaking his head softly and taking a blossom of his own. "Wait here. No king should rule alone, after all."

Eowyn

Riding brought such joy and exhilaration as one could hardly know elsewhere, especially with a fair and fearless maid like Lady Eowyn at your side. The smile you so longed to see bloomed across her face as you both urged your horses on, picking up speed into a run across the green of the plains. The thudding of hooves invigorated you as the pair of you pressed on, riding like the wind until whim took you to dismount and stop for a breather.

As you sat upon the grass, a dotting of pink flowers amidst the waving green caught your eye; joy seizing you, you picked one after the other until you had a tiny handful. Eowyn’s eyes, you saw, drifted over your work, but she said nothing.

Nothing, that was, until you broke the silence. “These remind me of you, you know. We often think of flowers here as signs of mourning, but these? These are hope. Bits of brightness out of nothing.”

She smiled faintly, shyly, blue eyes shining. “Sometimes it does not feel so.”

“Well, to me it is so,” you replied, extending your little bouquet her way.

The glitter of her eyes somehow brightened as she looked upon your gift, smile opening all the way. You were overcome at the sight of it, the return of warmth to the fairest of faces, and before you realized it you had leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

Arwen

“But surely you have already received so many mighty gifts!”

“None were from you,” Arwen replied simply, breathily, waving a hand, “come, show me.”

Her smile, breathtaking even in the simplest of moments, encouraged you to pull your hands from behind your back, revealing the bouquet you’d recently tied. With the best ribbon you’d found on hand, of course, beautiful white silk lined with thin silver.

“You see, I wanted to honor you with gifts pure as your heart- gifts from the earth. These are-”

“From the garden where we met!” Arwen was one to remain composed, often feeling the pressure of her years and upbringing and, surely, wisdom. “Of course I remember! You tripped and I caught you!”

Unable to help flushing beneath her grin and the rush of memory, the heat across your face as you pitched over a stone and were captured by the hand of the most graceful maiden you’d ever seen, you simply smiled. “That would be the time. Ever since that day I cannot walk past white roses without thinking of you. And that seems fitting,” you added.

Arwen pursed her lips, eyebrows raising curiously. “Oh?”

“Pure,” you repeated, “fair and beloved as all. Delicate, but formidable. More than capable of defending themselves.”

“Are you saying I have thorns?” She teased, leaning an arm upon your shoulder, breath warm against your ear.

“I’ve seen what you can do,” you shot back, “perhaps I am.”

“Well, at any rate, I love this gift far beyond all displays of wealth. This is a gift of your heart, is it not?”

The moment you nodded, her arms were thrown about your neck, pulling you into the warmth of her chest and letting your heart beat against hers.

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 7/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: so what if you find your husband attractive as hell? word count. 2.6k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, mild smut (oral f! receiving) a/n. this chapter is just me thirsting over Sakusa Kiyoomi:)

Masterlist

After that night when he fell sick, you felt a noticeable shift in the dynamic between the two of you. You’ve always been friends since high school, but you realize that your usual monthly meetups didn’t do justice to how he used to be. When you’re both home, you don’t just pass each other or talk only when needed; you actually have a fun conversation. You exchange everyday life trivia, transforming the usual “hey” and “how was your day?” into meaningful conversations.

Instead of his typical “good” response, he now shares more about his day. “It was good. Bokuto was more behaved today,” he tells you. This prompts you to ask for details, and soon you’re immersed in the full story of his day. He’s also very curious about your corporate life and your friends at work. “What about you? Did the presentation go well?” he asks. “Did that shitty coworker try to steal your idea again? You should really teach her a lesson.”

Both of you inquire deeply about each other's answers, leading to conversations that last well into the evening. Whether you’re eating together at the kitchen table or sitting on the couch, you find yourselves engaged in discussions that bring you closer. 

Last week on Saturday night, you even had your first-ever movie night with him, watching "The Shawshank Redemption" for the first time. Yes, you both are latecomers to classic movies. By the end, you concluded it was fun and decided that horror movies would be next on your list.

You also rediscovered how observant Kiyoomi is. You hadn't noticed that he had been restocking your milk for making lattes. It struck you as odd that the single carton of milk you bought during grocery shopping always seemed to last the entire month. You finally realized what was happening when you caught Kiyoomi putting a new carton of milk in the fridge. “Do you always restock my milk?!” you asked, incredulous. He frowned and replied, “Um. Yeah? Is there a problem?” You wanted to scream at his nonchalance but ended up laughing, pinching his cheek, and thanking him instead.

Physical contact with Kiyoomi was something you hadn't given much thought to before, but if anything, the past week had shown that he was becoming more comfortable with you. During grocery shopping, you used to just walk side by side, but now you noticed he often put his arm around you or held your hand while you walked. Even in the apartment, he was more touchy. He would casually move you by your waist when he needed to get a spoon from the drawer, saying, “Wait a sec,” before placing you back where you were, leaving you flustered.

Komori also noticed the change, teasingly commenting on how well you were getting along with Kiyoomi in your monthly meetup. You didn’t know how to respond, just waving off the comments dismissively. 

It’s been two weeks since Kiyoomi started his training camp. He stays out of town from Monday and comes home on Friday evening. The V. League Division 1 match season starts next week, with matches held almost every weekend with a few breaks over the next seven months. With his absence, you can’t help but feel quite lonely, especially given the recent intensity between you two.

Now, you're on a call with Tami. She's been telling you how much she misses her husband, with her business trips over the last few months and now his busy schedule. You listen attentively, trying to offer support, “I see. Work timings might be challenging for both of you, but as long as there is persistent effort when there’s time, I guess it’s the quality of time you spend together that matters.”

“You’re right,” Tami agrees, her voice tinged with longing. “I’m thinking of going to the cinema weekly with him. Or maybe just movie nights at home? We’ve been super busy lately.”

“Yeah, movie nights are fun too! That’s what I’ve been doing with Omi—like in a friendly way, you know?” you respond.

“What? Friendly way?” Tami laughs loudly.

“Yeah, he’s my friend. So the context is a bit different from yours, but it’s still quality time, right?” you explain.

“He’s your husband, girl!” she keeps laughing.

“But, we’re not like that! I’ve told you,” you protest.

Tami's tone shifts to playful curiosity. “Hey! I just remembered. Have you worn my gift?”

“That lingerie?! God, no!” you exclaim.

“What?! So you never do anything with him?” Tami asks, incredulous.

“No. I’ve told you! We’re not like that. I can't even see him that way. He's my friend,” you insist.

Tami pauses before asking gently, “Are you sure?”

“Um, yeah,” you reply, though now with less certainty.

“Just be prepared in case… y’know what I mean,” Tami advises. You roll your eyes at her.

After your call with Tami, a few moments later, your apartment door opens. Kiyoomi walks in with his bags since it’s Friday. You can’t help but feel a surge of happiness seeing him. You’ve missed him. You rush to him, “Omi! You’re home! I’ve made dinner.” You cling to his arm.

He smiles and pats your head, “Thank you. I’ll have that after I put this in the washing machine.” He lifts his bags.

“Okay!” you reply happily.

You continue your conversation with him after he takes a shower, and you eat dinner together. Then, like last week, you have your movie night with him, but this time, you watch a horror movie. As you sit together on the couch, you realize how much his presence means to you. You’re just happy your friend is home. That’s all. 

Then, Saturday comes, the first day of the volleyball season. You and Kiyoomi start your morning early and head to the stadium where the match will be held. It hits you that it's been over a year since you last watched one of his matches, often because of clashes with your side jobs.

Although the match will start at 3:30 pm, there will be an opening ceremony beforehand. Athletes need to arrive early for warmups and preparation. So, here you are, arriving at 10 am with Kiyoomi. You walk with him to his locker room where he changes clothes, puts on his shoes, and dons his other volleyball gear.

In the locker room, you meet the other athletes from MSBY and their spouses. You also run into Miya Atsumu’s girlfriend, Aiko, whom you met at the New Year's party earlier in the year. After Kiyoomi heads off for his preparations, you sit on the bleachers with Aiko. She congratulates you on your marriage, expressing surprise, saying she didn't recall you mentioning you were Kiyoomi’s girlfriend. You explain that you kept your dating life secret and only announced it once you were married.

Suddenly, a woman approaches you both. “Hey!” she greets, and Aiko responds excitedly, indicating they know each other. The woman turns to you, “Are you Sakusa-san’s wife?” she asks with a warm smile. 

“Yes,” you reply.

“Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Fumi, MSBY’s assistant manager!” she says cheerily.

“Oh hey! Nice to meet you,” you respond.

“We finally met!” Fumi exclaims, taking a seat beside you. “I’ve met all of the MSBY spouses. I’m so glad to finally see you in person.” You chuckle at her enthusiasm. You then start chatting with her and Aiko. The conversation mostly them asking about how you and Kiyoomi met, both getting heart eyed at your story. Fumi comments that it’s hard to imagine Sakusa-san in a romantic relationship. You laugh at her statement.

The opening ceremony starts with the national anthem, followed by speeches from league officials and dignitaries. Each team is then introduced to the crowd, walking out in their uniforms to applause and cheers. You watch as Kiyoomi stands there, feeling a surge of pride. The ceremony continues with a performance by local artists and cheerleaders. The crowd's energy is infectious, making you even more excited about the upcoming match.

When the performance ends and the official opening declaration is about to start, Fumi invites you and Aiko to meet the athletes. “Hey, let’s wish them luck; the match is about to start!” Fumi suggests.

“Sure!” Aiko agrees enthusiastically.

“Are we allowed to meet them now?” you ask, a bit unsure.

“Of course!” Fumi assures you.

“Yeah, I always meet ‘Tsumu before his matches,” Aiko giggles. You nod and follow them.

Outside the locker room, you see the MSBY Black Jackals concluding their final discussion. Some athletes share moments with their families. Aiko runs enthusiastically to Atsumu, hugging and kissing him while wishing him luck. Feeling slightly awkward, you approach Kiyoomi, unsure of what to do. You’re his fucking wife, dammit!

“Hey,” you greet him, rubbing your hands together. He turns towards you, his eyes lighting up and melting your nerves away.

“Hey,” he replies.

You take both of his hands, really wanting to encourage him for the game. “Good luck with the match,” you say, looking up to see the warmth radiating from his eyes. Without thinking much, you bring his hands to your mouth and kiss them. He looks stunned for a second, then hugs you and kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

He and his team then start to line up to head to the arena, as the match is about to start. You return to your seats with Fumi and Aiko, feeling a mix of excitement and pride for Kiyoomi and his team.

The match finally starts, and you find yourself immediately drawn to the court, your eyes instinctively following Kiyoomi. There's an electric energy in the air, the crowd's anticipation palpable. As the game begins, you can't help but focus on him, mesmerized by his every move.

Kiyoomi’s black wavy hair is slightly tousled, framing his face perfectly and adding to his striking appearance. Each step he takes exudes confidence and a hint of cockiness, a combination that’s both intimidating and captivating. Sweat glistens on his skin, making his muscles stand out even more under the bright gym lights, emphasizing his athletic physique. His focus is intense, his eyes never leaving the ball as he strategizes his next move.

There's something magnetic about his presence, an undeniable allure that draws your gaze and holds it there. Every spike is like a piece of art, a blend of power and finesse that’s unmatched. You watch as he leaps into the air, his body seeming to defy gravity, and then slams the ball over the net with such force that it sends a shiver down your spine. The precision and strength of his play are breathtaking, and it's clear why he's a standout player. Witnessing his performance is nothing short of exhilarating.

You’ve never felt this way about him before. Sure, you've always known he was attractive, but seeing him in his element, dominating the court, is an entirely different experience. He looks so damn good—too good. It makes you want to do something frisky with hi—Fuck. You should stop.

You start to grip your jeans, trying to steady yourself. Fumi notices this and laughs at you, waking you from your trance. You blink at her, slightly embarrassed. “Your husband is an amazing player. You should come often to his matches!” she exclaims. You short-circuit for a moment, the word “husband” ringing in your head. Then, you glance at the court again. That is your husband? Damn. Your reaction prompts Fumi to laugh even more.

Seeing his incredible play, he does look very intimidating, which is how most people perceive him. But you also find him endearing, remembering his everyday quirks at home—a privilege that you have. This realization makes your head spin. You really can’t go back to seeing him as just your roommate and keep denying his attractiveness. Fuck.

The match ends with Kiyoomi’s team winning, and you clap wholeheartedly for the game. You really should come more often. This was fun, and thrilling, and seeing him in his element has given you a newfound appreciation for just how incredible he is, both as a player and as a person.

On the way home, you congratulate Kiyoomi and compliment his amazing performance. He thanks you, glancing over with a small smile. “You should come more often,” he says, his voice warm and inviting. You agree enthusiastically, when suddenly you’re reminded of the revelation you had while watching his performance. You take a peek at him and feel your heart drop. His profile is illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He looks effortlessly attractive, focused on the road yet completely at ease. His hair is still a bit damp from the shower he just took. The subtle scent of his familiar cologne—something masculine with hints of woody and musky notes—fills the car, creating an intoxicating mix.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come to watch him?

Over the next few days, you try to act as normal as possible. You have conversations with him as naturally as you can, but you can’t help feeling distracted by his movements. Why does everything he does look so damn attractive? Like, who the hell drinks water like that? His usual friendly touches also get you very worked up, making you jumpy as hell. You hope he doesn’t notice this. God forbid he notices!

You just have to take care of yourself, right? Maybe that will reduce your tension when you’re with him. But you feel like the dirtiest and most perverted roommate ever if you get yourself off thinking about him when he literally sleeps in the next room. You're so frustrated with yourself.

This Thursday night is no exception. You’re washing the dishes when suddenly you feel a looming presence behind you. When he taps your shoulder, you almost knock him with the plate in your hand as you turn your head and see him standing there. You keep saying sorry, feeling embarrassed and flustered, while he only replies with a frown.

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, you settle on the couch in the living room with a novel. When you notice him sitting beside you, you take a peek and see he's engrossed in his phone. You try to focus on your novel, but his presence makes you nervous. You then stand up, ready to leave, when you suddenly hear him say, “Wait.” Fuck.

Your heart races as you turn your head to him and see him observing you intently. You try to avoid his gaze, but he reaches for your hand, prompting you to sit back down beside him. Your heart is pounding, and your face feels hot. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asks, his tone concerned.

“No,” you reply, looking down and biting your lip.

“Did I do something wrong?” he presses.

“No!” you finally look at him, seeing the concern etched on his face. “It’s just…” you trail off, looking down again.

After a beat of silence, he tilts your chin towards him. “Can I do something?” he asks softly, his gaze never leaving yours. Before you can answer, his lips are on yours, and you unconsciously sigh in relief as the tension melts away.

The simple kiss quickly deepens into a passionate makeout session. You grip his shirt while he cups your face, and then you feel his hand travel downward. “Can I?” he asks, his voice husky. You nod, not trusting your voice, and he slips his hand into your panties, rubbing you gently. You can't help but moan at his touch.

Then, he gets down on his knees in front of you, still kissing you. He pulls you to the edge of the couch, his eyes level with yours due to his height. He pauses, looking at you intensely. “Is this what I get if you come to my match?” he asks, making your eyes widen.

“I should’ve invited you a long time ago,” he murmurs. Before you respond to him, he starts kissing you again and pulling down your shorts and panties. Then, he kisses your thigh, whispering, “You’re so beautiful.” You bite your lip and moan as he starts to eat you out.

You're overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events, by how skillfully he uses his mouth, and by the sight of him kneeling before you, his broad shoulders adding to the intensity. As he adds his digits into you, you entangle your fingers in his hair, moaning, and you cum more intensely than ever before.

He kisses you again after you cum, but when you try to touch his pants, he stops you. “Not now,” he says, leaving you confused as he gets up and goes to his room.

The next morning, he acts as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just eat you out on the couch last night. You’re left bewildered, wondering what the hell is going on?!

Taglist: @wolffmaiden @yunskook

[fariesoiree]

it’s completely normal to have a disagreement with your boyfriend but hobie cannot understand why you’d resort to the silent treatment.

caution! mdni 4.5k wrdz, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral ( r. receiving ), fingering ( r. receiving ) pet names, gwen makes an appearance, hobie smokes weed reference, partially unedited pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

you’re not entirely sure how it happened. or rather, you’re just not ready to admit it, yet. you suppose it really started before you met up with hobie, having woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

everything pissed you off today. the way the outfit you planned looked terrible on you, showing up late to class, getting yelled at by customers at work. every event just piled right on top of each other and made you feel a thousand times worse.

you only made it halfway through the day before a grimace etched itself on your face and your words became short and curt.

the cherry on top was when you planned to lay in the comfort of your bed, only to find yourself whisked away to hobie’s houseboat.

he seemed so happy with his proposition for you to meet a friend of his who just happened to be in town. you couldn’t say no despite so desperately wanting to. when would there ever be a chance that his friend would be back and he’d be this happy to tell you?

and with your terrible mood, your usual demeanor was replaced with something much colder. instead of engaging in the conversation between hobie and gwen, you sit silently in the corner.

your knees are pulled into your chest and you fiddle with the seams of your socks. each sonorous laugh has your teeth grinding. you haven’t uttered much more than a few sentences, wondering when you’re going to be able to make your escape back home.

you miss hobie’s curious peeks. it’s so blaringly obvious that you’re not feeling like yourself. if your silence didn’t give it away, your lack of affection definitely did.

you didn’t squeeze him tight in a hug the moment he showed up at your door. there was no rambling of your day, no kisses and giggles that follow. all the usual bits he loves and look forward to never came and on top of that, he gets the odd feeling you’ve been avoiding his touch since you got there. it makes his stomach twist in knots.

“gwendy,” he says with his eyes darting towards you.

you’re oblivious, nails scraping against the divets and curves in the fabric of his small sofa.

“i’m off to get a drink. want somethin’?”

“i’m good. thanks, though, hobes.” gwen shakes her head with a smile. she’s also just as clueless. having this being her first time meeting you, she just assumes you’re always like this and there’s nothing wrong with being quiet, albeit the way you do it makes her feel a bit uncomfortable.

you press your lips into your knees to hide your scoff. “ ‘hobes’,” you mouth, picking at a thread. it’s such a minuscule detail, one that you’ve repeated overlooked in the past. never has it been anything but a friendly nickname but in your miffed state, it’s a sign of betrayal.

hobie doesn’t need a sixth sense to know there’s an obscure issue. he’s known you long enough to know when you’re irked and how he has to force it out of you.

for your sake and not wanting to draw attention to the situation, he strolls into the kitchen. his slides scrape against the floor. the sound is like nails on a chalkboard and has your face scrunching up.

with just you and gwen left, the silence is deafening. most of the conversation had been with hobie and nothing changed your unwillingness to talk. still, gwen felt the need to try. whether she wanted to relate to another girl or make a good impression is unknown.

“so . . . you and hobie, huh?”

you consider ignoring her but guilt blooms across your skin. even if your worst mood, a small remnant of your manners remain. not enough to make you pleasant, though. “mhm.” you hum, not bothering to look in her direction.

next to you, your phone vibrates to reveal a text. you sit up just enough to lean over it and the screen unlocks after recognizing your face. you’re not dumbfounded that it’s the topic of the conversation himself, requesting your presence.

at some point he’d say something, that you know. doesn’t exactly make you feel any better about it. “i’ll be back,” you mumble, legs unfolding until you’re standing.

you’re not looking forward to the upcoming conversations but you shuffle forward, regardless. your arms are already crossed when you stand in front of him. this is the first time you’re truly looking at him since you got here and your expression is so frigid.

“what’s up with you?” hobie leans against the counter, his arms crossed and mirroring yours. “been pissy all day.”

you know he’s seriously waiting for an answer when he’s unaffected by the eye rolls that follow. “nothing’s wrong. i’m not anything.”

“you’re really goin’ to stand there and tell me there’s nothin’ goin’ on when you’re actin’ like that? come out of it.”

you dodge his narrowing gaze by staring at the kitchen sink instead. your lips are pressed together and your thoughts move at a hundred miles an hour, searching for the perfect method to dissipate this conversation. “i’m fine. there’s nothing going on.”

“then that’s worse,” hobie eyes you down. it makes you feel small, the way his head is tilted and bordering a correctional glare. “then you’re jus’ being mean for no reason.”

“i’m not being mean. i just don’t feel like talking.” it’s not completely a lie. you don’t feel like talking, that’s true, but you’ve also purposefully been abhorrent so you’d have an excuse to leave.

he looks at you incredulously, scrambling to stand and motioning towards gwen’s direction. “you’re not being mean? so you haven’t said a word to gwen and barely two words to me because you ‘don’t feel like talking’.”

“yes. exactly.” you can already tell this isn’t going to end well. not with the way your chest burns with an angry fire. “that’s what i just said.”

hobie feels like he’s talking to a wall with the way you dismiss everything he says. “darlin’, i’m really, really trying not to cause a scene right now but you’re makin’ it harder than it needs to be.” with a hand on your shoulder, he guides you farther back into the kitchen. his patience is wavering, he can feel it. it’s becoming progressively more difficult to maintain his cool. “it doesn’t take fuckin’ einstein to know there’s somethin’ up.”

“you’re trying not to make a scene but you just cussed at me.” you grumble, dragging your feet until you’re stationed next to the glass door.

“i did not – ” he has to stop and take a breath, noticing the crescendo in his voice. “ ☆ , what is wrong with you? your mood is poor and you aren’t even speaking to gwen, which is the whole reason i wanted you to come.”

you glare off the porch, watching the water lap and crash against each other. between everything he said, all you got is he’s prioritizing another girl over you. in your spoiled brain, he should never be scolding you about this. “oh, i’m sorry if i’m making you and gwendy uncomfortable. maybe it would be best if i go.”

“do not do that.” he points at you, thumb facing the ceiling. “do not turn this into something it isn’t.” his restraint officially snapped, words dripping with venom. “everyone is being nothing but nice. you’re the only one here that has an issue. i only asked you what’s wrong because i care about you. stop acting like a – ” hobie pauses again, eyes closing in frustration. “whatever. i’m over it. do what you want.” he waves it off and turns on his heel. he would have considered that a win, had you not stopped him.

“no, say it. call me what you were going to call me.” you dart in front of him, hands on your hips. you should have stopped, let the argument vanish into nothing but you couldn’t help yourself. you had already committed yourself to it.

“just let it go.” hobie attempts to side step you, only for you to stand in front of him again. he has no interest in playing your games so he waits at a standstill. “i don’t want to hurt your feelings and i don’t want to argue. let it go, ☆ .”

“say it,” you insist. you have your head tilted up, basically pressed all up against him. you’re daring him, as if he won’t do it and you don’t expect him to. not once can you remember hobie ever calling you anything but endearing names.

he sucks his teeth and takes a step away from you. you’re unhinged, he decides. daily stress has finally gotten to you and you’ve gone off the rails. “i’m going to say this once and i mean this when i say it. you need to go the fuck home and get your shit together. honestly, love, this is unacceptable and i’m not takin’ this disrespect in my house.”

you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home a while before this but you wanted to go on your own accord. you weren’t supposed to go back and forth like this and he wasn’t supposed to kick you out. “you’re joking, right? hobie, you brought me here. how am i supposed to get home?”

it’s a well known fact that hobie prefers to take the unconventional routes. he’d rather swing than walk and walk than drive. even when it comes to you, he’s always willing to be your transportation so you aren’t driving or being driven around. so when he pulls out his phone and promptly sends you enough money to get an Uber, it truly cements how sincere he is. “go home, lovely. i’ll come by later and we can try this again.”

“ ‘bie,” you sniffle, eyes welling with tears. not only is he kicking you out but he’s also sending you home.

“go home,” he repeats. his parting gift is a pat on the head before he walks past you. you’re unsure whether or not he really saw how distraught you felt but you doubt it would make a difference.

you’re too embarrassed to show your face so you take the back way, exiting through the porch by the kitchen. you circle the boat until reaching the dock and step off, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

it’s unbelievable that your sweet, darling hobie would do this to you. granted, you deserved it and technically got what you wanted.

still, you can’t stop your tears from flowing the whole way home, even up through the lobby of your apartment and into your room. the warmth of your bed is just as you imagined, although now bittersweet.

your eyes are puffy and hurting. you fight the urge to let them close and scroll through your phone. most of the reasoning behind was to see if hobie would text you at all but your notifications remained empty. it stings more than you imagined. he’s always always texted you to make sure you’ve gotten in your room safely.

“whatever,” you toss your phone onto the other side of the bed and roll over. “i don’t need you. enjoy your date with gwendy, hoe.” you mumble into your pillow. you huff, pulling the covers up to your chin. if hobie wants to be like that then fine. he can do what he wants.

LINE BREAK

you stir awake to the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut. you’d be worried if the familiar smell of pine and weed didn’t fill the air. it’s subtle but you know him too well to be wrong.

you reach for your phone, feeling around in the bed until the cool glass meets your palm. the bright screen reads midnight and entirely too far past his normal arrival time.

“you stink,” you mumble when he gets into bed beside you. he has his own bed but he’s so accustomed to you and your warmth, hobie can’t help but make his way to wherever you are.

“don’t kill my high.” his gruff whisper fills your ear. he slips his arm between you and the mattress to pull you into his chest. “sent gwen off and came here. didn’t have time to enjoy it, yet.”

you purse your lips, flashbacks of earlier in the day coming flooding in. your nap nearly wiped all those memories away. he just said to bring it up, again. and right on cue —

“feelin’ better?” he splays his over your tummy and brushes his thumb back and forth along your skin. “we can talk about it, again.”

you don’t respond, too busy feeling crossed. it would be best to reopen the discussion now that your emotions aren’t running as high but you’re too petty to do that. hobie wronged you. he started an argument and kicked you out. he didn’t even check to see if you made it home safe.

“lovey? you okay?” he taps his fingers against you. maybe you fell asleep on him.

nothing.

hobie sits up. you can feel his weight shift as he peers over your body. your eyes are open and he can see you looking at him, you’re just not speaking. he raises a brow and pushes your shoulder over until you’re on your back with a clear view of each other. “do you hear me talkin’ to you or what?”

he’s peeved when you roll over without even acknowledging him. “absolutely fuckin’ not.” he pushes your shoulder down again and holds it there. “you givin’ me the silent treatment?”

you shrug.

you fucking shrug.

hobie considers himself a rational person. if he’s upset, he’ll talk about it. if he’s not ready to talk about it, he’ll let you know. if he notices you’re too upset to communicate efficiently, he’ll give you space. what he will not tolerate is bullshit like this. you’re ignoring him, purposefully not saying anything and he’s expected to take it?

“i’m talkin’ to you.” he squishes your cheeks is his hand until they pucker, eyes narrowed into slits. he doesn’t know what your problem is but he’s sure if you continue like this, he’ll snap the world in half.

you pull away from him, reeling your head back until it’s out of his grasp. with you’re newfound freedom, you roll over and tap your phone. it’s now half past midnight and you’re losing hours on sleep.

hobie watches, enraged, as you slide it beside your pillow and snuggle deeper into the comfort of your bed. he doesn’t move, still processing his emotions. what he wants to do is pull you into his lap and keep you up all night until you speak to him but he figures it just make you more irritable.

so he scoffs and lays back down beside you. “okay. throw your tantrum. we’ll talk in the morning.” he pulls you into his chest, regardless, fingers curling around your waist. his lips are pressed together and by your ear.

he’s hopeful that in the morning, this mood you’re in will pass. that’s the notion he holds on to while he drifts off into his slumber and the same one he wakes up to when he’s reaching for your missing body.

the sun is up and beaming through the sheer layer of curtains. you must have opened the blackout layer behind them. he can hear the shower water running to a stop. hobie rubs his eyes and pulls his arm over his head for a stretch.

it’s a bit odd, he thinks, that you’ve woken up without him. he doesn’t think you’ve rolled over and pressed soft kisses on his face until he’s waking. maybe you did and he went back to sleep.

his legs carry himself into the bathroom where you reside. he’s operating off your normal schedule, getting ready together. he’s surprised when he turns the handle, only for it to fall short. “the door is locked, sweetheart.”

hobie leans against the frame. he’s tall enough to take up the entirety of the space. his hand comes up to rub his face once before he realizes the amount of time that’s passing right now. he can hear you in there, hear the water in the sink running but you don’t open the door.

his first thought it maybe you just can’t open it right now.

he, however, comes to his second thought when you do open it and scroll right past him without one glance in his direction.

you’re still ignoring him.

“oi duck, here’s what’s going to happen.” hobie knows you’re listening when you pause, hand freezing at the lotion pump. “i’m going to go brush my teeth, yeah? and you’re going to get over this thing you’re in and when i come back, we’re going to sit down and talk about this like adults.”

what he doesn’t know is the insinuation you’re not acting like an adult sends you farther into you stubbornness. to be truthful, he’s not wrong. you’re only doing this to make a point, to stick it to him that you didn’t appreciate what he did to you

you scoff to yourself and have a seat at your vanity. “who does he think he is?” you mumble, unscrewing the lid to your toner. “telling me what i’m gonna do. i’ll talk when i want to.”

you can see him in the mirror. with the bathroom door wide open, you get a perfect view of him slowly turning his head towards you, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

it dawns on you that he heard you when he’s hastily rinsing out his mouth. you jump to your feet so quickly, the chair nearly topples to the ground. you’re darting across the room on the way out.

you only make it halfway before a sticky web is wrapped around your waist and pulling you back to the center of the room.

“what’d you say, sweetheart?” hobie turns you around, hands planted firmly on your hips. his fingers dig into your skin as if ready to pull the answer out of you.

you persist with your silence even while your heart beats out of your chest. you avoid looking at him, instead staring at the the gleaming silver hoop pierced through his nose.

your refusal to say anything has him ticked off. you haven’t said a word to him since last night and the only time you’ve even acknowledged him is to talk shit.

hobie isn’t having that.

he doesn’t bother to ask you again. he picks you up easy, a hand wrapped around your waist. he considers himself to be patient, letting you have your fun. he didn’t say anything to you last night, he forgave you for trying to incite an argument, he was even giving you another chance and was willing to work through it.

it’s you who’s making it difficult, uncooperating like a unreasonable person. you won’t even tell him why. how is he supposed to mend the situation if he doesn’t know what the problem is?

“you’re pissin’ me off.” he drops you on the edge of the bed. his talk could be mistaken as directed towards you but in actuality, he’s ranting to himself. “so spoiled y’know? throwing a fit for no reason.”

you freeze when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts. your instincts are screaming at you to whine and complain but your intransigency is too focused on making a point.

“i’m so gentle with you and you take me for granted. showed up mad and that’s my fault? should have just told me but that’s too much to ask.”

a sharp gasp is ripped from you when hobie rips your panties off you. the seams pop and snap under the stress of his rapid tug.

he pushes you back and down on the bed with a large hand on your chest. “to be frank, i don’t want to see you. i don’t want to hear you either unless you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”

you’re tempted to protest, already preparing to draw away from him but hobie beats you to it. he pins your waist down and peels your folds apart. he licks a stripe up your cunt, spit dribbling and mixing with your juices.

you keen, back lifting off your bed. it’s sickening how his knowledge of your body is affecting you this time. usually, it would entail the best orgasm of your life but now it meant you’d be eternally suffering.

he pushes your back down with a grunt. it’s as if every little movement you did only sent hobie father off the edge.

he pushes your leg up by the underside of your thigh until your knee is pressing against your chest. hobie’s nose bumps against your clit and his tongue probs at the walls of your slit.

“fuck! that’s so – ” your scream is cut short by a gulp of air. your hand reaches down to grasp hobie’s wicks, only for him to swat you hand away.

you cum rather quickly, pussy throbbing from the stimulation. by the time you’re sitting up, hobie is staring at you with half lidded eyes. he has yet to remove his grip, lips glistening from your arousal.

neither of you speak, the air growing thicker with tension. your gaze darts between both of hobie’s peering brown eyes before you turn your head away with a huff.

the smack of hobie’s hand against your thigh rings in the air. his demands for your attention has you whining. your skin blooms with a stinging pain, only for it to be followed by another. you’re not moving fast enough for him.

only when your eyes lock does he lightly trace his fingers over your skin. hobie, however, has no plans in letting up with his lesson. he thumbs at the hood of your clit, pulling it back until the puffy bundle is nerves is revealed.

so badly does he want to coo his praise but every time he thinks about how you treated him, his heart burns just the same.

you struggle against his grasp to clamp your legs shut when he wraps his tongue around it. thanks to his hands anchoring you in place, you’re forced to endure all of it.

you twitch and tweak, hands curling around the fabric of your shirt. this is wild, you think, all to get an answer out of you. the deep, docile part of your brain is ready to do whatever he asks to get the soft touches and sweet names, again.

“ ‘bie,” you mewl, reaching out for him again.

“ready to talk?” hobie lifts his head, replacing his tongue with his thumb, performing tiny circles. he’s disappointed when he’s listening to your moans and hums instead of a explanation. how long will you continue to do this?

he drives his fingers into your cunt, a sigh fanning over you skin leaving it hot and sticky with your cum. “you’re being such a brat today. how hard is it to open your fuckin’ mouth?”

he’s relentless with it, routinely pressing his fingers against the spot that has you crying. he tunes out your warbling, sucking in a breath. “can’t believe you tried to make it about gwen knowing damn well this is your problem.”

his words go straight to your cunt. it’s unexpected, the way you tighten and gush. you’re humiliated and even more so when hobie scoffs. “no chance you’re getting off on this.”

your body tenses, coiling in on itself. your chest rises with one final heave before your cunt is spasming around his fingers. hobie doesn’t cut back, head tilted as you wail.

“why aren’t you talking to me?” he fingerfucks you past your orgasm. he’s unaffected by your squirming to get away from him, pulling you back by your waist.

“it’s too much,” you sob, hand pushing at his.

“that’s not what i asked,” hobie shoves your hand away for the second time that morning. he’s fed up. his hand pops down on your cunny, ogling at the shining cream pouring out.

“ ‘cause,” the tears spill over your waterline and cascade down your face.

“ ‘cause what?” hobie finally removes his hold on you and takes his place next to you in the bed. he pulls your putty body into his lap, a hand on your chins to direct your attention.

you sniffle, lips trembling. you’re hesitating, already knowing how he’s going to react. forming a verbal reason makes you realize how immature you’ve been.

“angel,” his voice is heavy with a warning. you can feel the heat of his fingers slot their way beneath you.

your expression immediately contorts at the feeling of your sensitive nerves being stimulated. “ ‘cause,” you scramble for words, shifting until you can no longer feel him. “i don’t know.”

his fingers find their place again, this time pushing back into you with seething annoyance. “you . . . don’t know? so you did all that ‘cause you don’t know?”

they move slowly. slow enough to draw out soft pants and keep you talking. “i –,” you hiccup, “was upset.” you find yourself chewing on your bottom lip. there is no reasonable excuse. he’s about to that find out.

“mhm,” hobie hums, still dissatisfied with your words. “and did that have anything to do with me?” he feels the answer is obvious but there’s always some gratification in hearing you say it.

your head shakes in a tiny swivel. your hands clench into fists and quiver. having being toyed with for so long, hobie could spit on your cunt and you’d cum. when he’s pressing your spot like this, you’re nearly spilling out your arousal.

“didn’t think so.” hobie pressed his lips into a firm line. he takes pity when you lean your weight against him at the feeling of his digits pump in your tight hole.

his poor girl can’t even sit up on her own. she’s having to resort to using him to hold her up. of course it’s entirely your fault but at least you admitted it.

“that’s all you head do to, love. all this is unnecessary,” hobie mumbles underneath your whimpers.

there’s a soothing hand circling your hip through your orgasm. he listens to your babbling with soft shushes and promises of relief.

all he really wanted was to get the explanation out of you. to begin the start of conversation. hobie knew he could do it. after all, you’re his sweet girl. his ray of sunshine.

when your pants turn into into soft heaves is when hobie lifts your head, held in the palm of his hand. “listen to me, ducky.” he’s firm, eyes narrowed. “never ever do that again, you hear me? you have a problem, you talk about it.”

your half lidded eyes are full of passivity and you nod. you’re resting against him, pleased when hobie’s long arms envelop you in a warm embrace. “ ‘m sorry, hobie. i really am. i didn’t mean it.”

his hands run along your spine and be pressed a kiss atop your head. “i know, dolly. i know.”

[sunshinepanic]

Unexpected 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: If someone had told you exactly what was going to happen when you left the boneyard with Rafe you never would have believed them.

Chapter Warning: JJ is kind of a douche, Angst, fluff, smut

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 2,062

OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Finishing off your night eating pizza while sitting on Rafe’s kitchen counter in Tannyhill was not how you expected to end your night, but here you are. After Rafe found you at the boneyard all alone, he drove you back to Tannyhill so he could give you back your skateboard that he had left in his bedroom. As you followed him into the giant house, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was so extravagant that you were afraid if you moved wrong, you would ruin something you would never be able to afford to pay his family back for. Rafe, seemingly able to sense your feelings, smiled at you. “Relax, Sunshine. I know it’s a lot to get used to, but I promise you, even if you set something on fire in the living room, no one would notice. Besides, my family is out of town with Wheezie right now.” You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders as he caused you to laugh, and he continued to lead you through the house to the kitchen. Rafe opened the fridge and pulled out a soda for you and a beer for himself before asking you what kind of pizza you wanted. Once Rafe placed your order, you and him fell into an easy conversation. 

Once the pizza was delivered, you found yourself sitting on the kitchen counter eating while Rafe stood across from you. Every time he would finish a piece of pizza, he would gently throw his crust at you, causing you to squeal and duck out of the way while he laughed and claimed he was trying to throw it back in the box and not at you. You dodged the last crust he threw at you, tossing your own at him and smacking him in the chest with it. “So I have a serious question for you.” Rafe quirked his eyebrow at you. “Ok shoot.” You stared at him for a moment before asking. “Why do you call me sunshine?” The question seemed to startle a laugh out of Rafe. “You really want to know?” When you continued to stare at him, Rafe relented. “The first time I ever saw you, you were running around with John B and JJ, and you had the most intense resting bitch face I had ever seen. You were intimidating as hell, and I remember someone saying, “Well, isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” And I thought it fit you perfectly.” After a few moments of silence, you doubled over in laughter. You couldn’t believe all this time he has been calling you sunshine because of your resting bitch face. 

Once your laughter died down, Rafe got a curious look on his face as he asked you, “So how are things with JJ? Are you doing okay?" You took a minute to think about your answer. “Things are a little awkward, but that’s expected. I love Kie and JJ, and I want them to be happy. It just hurts how he went about everything, but I’ll be fine. JJ is acting weird towards me a little, but I figure he’s just worried because of how everything went down.” Rafe nodded along as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad you are feeling better about everything. I know how you felt about him, even if I don’t get the appeal at all.” You laughed and threw another pizza crust at him for the subtle jab he threw in about JJ. “You actually helped me with that a lot. I was in my head about it, but you helped distract me and get me out of my own head. That reminds me.” You remembered the bracelet you made for him and removed it from your other bracelets. You quickly toss it at him. His eyes widen as he catches it. “I made this for you. I know it’s not a lot, and you will probably think it’s stupid, I don’t expect you to wear it or anything, but I wanted to give you something to say thanks for the other night.” Rafe looked down at the bracelet, running his thumb across the little sun charm you had woven into it. No one had ever given him something; they actually put time and effort into making him. Usually, people opt to just throw money at him or randomly buy something expensive with no thought behind it. Just when you were starting to feel really stupid about the whole situation, Rafe’s big hands were cupping your face, and his lips were crashing against your own. You startled for a moment, as you didn’t even register him moving towards you, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, gripping onto his broad shoulders. 

If kissing JJ knocked the wind out of you, kissing Rafe was like being set on fire. Your entire body felt like a live wire, and you were hyper-aware of every point of contact. Rafe’s hands found their way to your hips, and he bit your lip as he gripped them, causing you to moan. Rafe took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth. You buried your hands in his hair as your hips rolled against him, feeling his growing erection pressing against you. Rafe pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily, and it jerked you out of your daze. You felt panic start to set in. This couldn’t happen to you again. You knew he was just fucking with you. God damn it, how fucking pathetic could you be? He was probably going to tell everyone about this and how delusional you were to think he would actually give you the time of day. Then Rafe’s rough voice cut through your internal monologue. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You focused back on him, noticing that he wasn’t pulling away, and he looked like he genuinely just wanted to make sure you were okay with this. Panting, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice, and surged forward to kiss him again.

Rafe’s hands slid under your hips as he hoisted you off the kitchen counter, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Somehow he managed to maneuver you up the stairs and to his bedroom, where he kicked the door shut and gently let you down. You slid your hands under Rafe’s shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head. You left kisses across his chest as your hands got to work on removing his belt and jeans. Once you got his pants undone, they fell to the ground, and you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, kissing your way down his body. Rafe groaned at the sight of you looking up at him as you slowly pulled his black boxer briefs down his muscular thighs. Rafe’s chest was heaving as you looked up at him from your position on your knees, and you slowly leaned forward, licking a stripe up his hard length, causing his head to fall back and a moan to fall from his lips. There was something so exhilarating about how you had him completely naked and wanting while you were still fully clothed. Rafe quickly looked back down at you as you took his length into your warm mouth. Your eyes slipped shut in concentration as you tried to take all of him into your mouth. You feel him thread his fingers through your hair. “Eyes up here, baby. Take your time.” Maintaining eye contact with Rafe as he moaned and praise fell from his lips caused you to clench your thighs together, looking for some sort of relief. 

You take what you can’t fit into your mouth in your hand and slowly guide him back into your mouth. You maintain eye contact as your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around his tip, causing his breathing to become faster. As you increase suction, you feel him straining to hold back his orgasm. The next thing you know, Rafe is hauling you up from the ground and tossing you on the bed. It startles a laugh out of you, but then he quickly covers your body with his own. He slides his hands up under his sweatshirt as he’s kissing you. Leaning back, he helps you sit up to remove it. Noticing you aren’t wearing anything underneath, he lets out a groan as his eyes catch on the baby blue barbells that adorn your puffy nipples. “God damn it, you’re perfect.” Rafe quickly leans down, attaching his mouth to one nipple and then the next, causing you to moan and arch into his warm mouth. He takes his time alternatingly kissing your breasts and playing with your nipple rings with his tongue while he undoes your shorts, slipping them off and throwing them across the room.

He slowly works his way down your body, maintaining eye contact, and places a kiss on your black silk panties. “Look at you; you’re so wet, and I’ve barely even touched you, Sunshine. Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You let out a pitiful whine, bucking your hips towards his face. Chuckling, he pins your hips to the mattress as he slowly peels the damp fabric away. “Use your words, baby.” Whining, you relent. “Yes. It’s all because of you. Please touch me.” A predatory smile slides across his beautiful face. “Good girl.” He dives down, licking a broad stripe up your center, causing you to moan. Sitting up on your elbows, you are mesmerized as he laps at your core like you are the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. You toss your head back as Rafe waists no time pushing two fingers into your needy core. His fingers are so long and thick, hitting all the spots you can never manage to reach by yourself. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls start to tighten around his thick fingers, but before you can crash over the edge, Rafe pulls away, causing you to whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Chuckling Rafe shushes you as he crawls back over your body. "Shh, shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise. But the first time I make you cum, I want it to be on my cock.” He smirks as he guides his tip to your entrance. All of the air is knocked out of you as you feel him slowly start to sink into you. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back at the almost painful stretch. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but he was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you a few minutes to adjust while kissing you passionately. When he started making shallow thrusts, you moaned at the feeling, spurring him to go faster and a bit harder. "God, Sunshine, look at you; you’re taking me so well.” The praise falling from his lips, along with the bruising grip he had on your hips and the exquisite feeling of him pounding into you, was pushing you rapidly towards your release. Rafe could feel your orgasm getting closer as you moaned louder. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” You feel his hand move, and his thumb starts to rub tight circles over your aching clit. You feel your walls start to convulse around him as your back arches and stars flash behind your eyes. You dig your nails into his back once again, triggering his release. You feel him spasm inside of your sensative walls as you slowly come down from your high.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Rafe carefully slips out of you and makes his way to the en-suite bathroom. Before you can start to feel awkward, Rafe reappears with a damp cloth and gently cleans you up, wiping over your sensitive pussy with the cool cloth. Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth somewhere in the room as he lays down and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm chest. Surrounded by Rafe’s woodsy scent and his heartbeat in your ear, you start to drift off. You know that you should talk about what just happened, but before you can say anything, sleep pulls you under.

Next

Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulouseness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca

[weirdsht]

Hi first of all i just want to say that I love your fics and second may I request a flirty workaholic reader x cale where the reader is isekaid to lofcf and told cale about it so the reader became the right hand person of cale who loves flirting with him anytime anywhere😙😙🤣🤣 but the story focuses on cale being curious how will the reader act to other people who is not part of the calefam, just someone who is a stranger. So he then disguises himself as a stranger to meet with the reader (who is experiencing day off the first time since becoming a servant because she argues that seeing cale's face, serving and flirting with him is what she considers as rest but the others didn't allow it this time since they are worried and tired of always seeing the reader work)

Then the reader 'accidentaly' bumped into disguised cale whose name is Bob and they became friends so nowadays the reader will set a little bit of their time once a week to meet with her new friend and cale is becoming jealous of his disguised self because the reader is always telling him about what she and 'Bob' does with so much joy in her eyes

Best Friend Bob - Cale/Reader

notes: thank you for liking my fics! Also, I'm not that versed in writing flirty personalities so I'm sorry if its bad huhu

tags: female reader, assistant reader, fluff, they didn't get together in the end sorry, but you can imagine that they did

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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“You’re sending me away? Do you not want to play with me anymore cutie?”

Cale grimaces at his fellow transmigrator’s words. He should be used to the flirting right now but for some reason, he still isn’t.

“It’s been years since you had a day off. You still work even when everyone is slacking off.”

“Just looking at your face is enough rest for me.”

_____ winked at him and Cale turned away.

“Anyways take this time to explore or something.”

“You wound me, but since you insist…”

With that _____ takes a day off for the first time since she transmigrates into this world.

‘What am I even supposed to do the whole day?’

_____ has always been an introvert and a home person even before she got sucked into this novel. Sure, at first she was curious about her new surroundings. However, she felt like she had seen enough since Cale was always on the move.

“Maybe I flirt with him too mu– owww”

The girl stopped in the middle of her mumbling as she bumped into a guy. He looks plain, but there’s this air around him that screams rich.

“I’m so sorry”

“Oh no, I should be apologizing. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

_____ waved her hands at the unnecessary apology from the man. She felt guilty that this poor guy was saying sorry when she was the one walking with her head in the clouds.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you. As an apology maybe I can treat you to something?”

The woman offered to the stranger. This particular looks familiar but at the same time, she’s sure she has never seen him before.

“If you insist. I know a great cafe around here. We can have some tea there.”

And so the two of them had tea at _____’s insistence.

“My name is Bob. What about you?”

‘Okay now this is suspicious’

_____ thought before quickly introducing herself to Bob.

‘Hmm, who could this be?’

She’s not an idiot. Bob is a rare name in this novel. It might have looked like it was common because of all the times Cale and his friends used it.

But there was only one recorded person who was named Bob.

Well, based on the novel none of the enemies ever disguised themself as Bob so _____ deemed it safe for now. However, they are extremely curious as to who could it be.

A few hours pass, Bob and _____ have become friends while exploring the town together. The woman is still suspicious and is trying to figure out Bob’s real identity but aside from that she thinks his pretty good.

“How was your day off?”

Cale asks as soon as he sees the workaholic enter the villa.

“It actually went great, I made a new friend.”

“Really now?”

The redhead inquires further, interested in his assistant’s social life.

_____ told Cale all about what happened the whole day. From how she met Bob to where they last went. She told him everything except for the part where she felt suspicious about his identity. 

…Of course, Cale already knows all of this.

His Bob afterall

A few hours ago he had asked Raon to give him a disguise. Something that _____ had never seen before so she would not recognize him.

Why one might ask?

It’s purely for experimental reasons. _____ kept flirting with him that he wanted to find out if she’d do the same to others.

Results showed that she doesn’t.

But they also just met so it might change.

So Cale continues befriending her under the guise named “Bob”. As he does, they surprisingly become good friends. It’s also good that the assistant now takes regular days off because of their meet-ups.

“I’m getting tired of this…”

“You’re tried human? How about we go rest for the day? We can’t get you sick because you’re tired!”

It was another friend's date with _____. They have been friends for about a month now but the girl still acts the same.

Meaning, that not once has she flirted with Bob.

Sure, she’s more comfortable with him but the way she acts with Bob and with Cale are so different.

Does this mean that his just special?

Cale isn’t sure.

But his tired of having to switch between identities when he's not even getting money out of it.

Okay, maybe he was a little jealous of how close Bob and _____ have gotten.

It doesn’t help that his assistant every single detail of what happened while looking all happy and excited.

However, no one needs to know about that.

But as much as he doesn’t like the current situation he continues it. It’s because he enjoys the look of happiness etched onto her face whenever they hang out together.

He just wishes that smile was because of Cale and not Bob.

“Bob, by now I think we can consider ourselves as good friends right?”

_____ asked one day while the two of them were eating street food after roaming the market.

Bob nodded his head in agreement. Inside, Cale rolls his eyes because how can she be so close to a guy she just met a month ago?

“I see. So who are you? Choi Han? Wait no that guy sucks at acting…”

Seems like the cat is out of the bag.

Cale would usually be irritated that someone saw behind his plans. However, he has been thinking as to how to put a stop to this so it’s beneficial for him.

At that moment

“Raon”

He states and the black dragon undones the magic alterations done on him, revealing his real appearance.

“Now, young master Cale why would you do such a thing? Did you not want me to go out of your sight so much? You only need to ask and I’ll stay with you 24/7.”

_____ winks flirtatously. Meanwhile, Cale just shrugged his shoulders. Indicating that he has no plans of sharing his plans with her.

“But seriously, did you through all this hassle just to make sure I take my day off regularly? Or did you find my social circle lacking?”

“No _____! He was jealous at how you and Bob got so close!”

…Okay maybe Cale should have briefed Raon about not exposing his feelings in front of _____.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Closure Pt. 2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, idk what else

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave with you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

Part Summary: He wrote a letter. You don't need him. Right?

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Based off of Taylor Swift Song Closure. This was a request. I tried to make everything as general as possible. Pls let me know if missed something ty.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

No one was supposed to know we were dating. Steve said he didn’t want his teammates to bug me. He didn’t want people to overreact when they found out about us and say mean shit. At the time, I agreed. I mean, Steve’s the king of Hawkins high. I wouldn’t be the first girl he’s dated who’s had rumors spread about them. 

Hiding us was harder than we thought. A month or so after we got together Tommy found out and told the whole team. Gradually the whole school found out. Gossip spreads like wildfire, especially in a town like Hawkins. 

During the weeks after we broke up, I started to think about our secret relationship.

He wasn’t trying to protect me. He was trying to protect his reputation. Steve might not show it but deep down he’s just like everyone else. He’s got insecurities too. He obsesses over anything negative that’s said about him, analyzing everything that others think is imperfect about him until he finds a way to change it.

That’s something I noticed sophomore year when we started to get a little closer.

He was kind to me, but he wasn’t perfect. I don’t know for sure but I think he still messed with underclassmen, bullying them for praise from Tommy and Carol. He wanted to be liked by everyone, especially those two assholes.

He was always going to pick them over me. 

“ Honey, this came in for you today. “ My mom breaks me out of my thoughts. 

I look up from my stack of paperwork. “ What? From who? “ My brows furrow in confusion. Who would send mail to my parents’ house? I haven’t lived here in years. 

“ It’s from Steve. “ My moms eyes scan over the stark white envelope. 

My heart sinks. 

What the fuck does he want? 

I haven’t seen or talked to him since graduation 7 years ago. What could he want with me? Last I heard he got a job at Family Video and Nancy broke up with him. 

He knows I’m here. He has to. Fucking Hawkins. When one person knows everyone knows. Mrs. Henderson must’ve told someone when I ran into her at the gas station. 

“ What ever happened to you and Steve? Do you both still talk? “ My mom asks curiously while handing over my mail. 

Oh right. I never told her. 

“ We fell out of touch. You know, life. " I shrug, hoping that's enough for her.

" Oh, that's so sad sweetie. I'm sorry. " She sends me a small sympathetic smile. " That's always hard when you lose touch with someone you love. " She gently pats my shoulder.

Love.

Steve didn't love me.

I send her a small smile, hoping to drop the topic. " It happens, ma. "

" Well, I'll you get to it. " She dismisses herself, leaving me to the letter in my hands.

I trace the sharp corners of the envelope. Should I open it? Do I want to?

I wonder what it says.

What could he have to say to me after all of these years? It couldn't be something worth my time. Not after the shit that happened in high school. Right?

But what if it is?

Fuck it. I'm curious.

I pull open the envelope and let the torn paper fall into my lap. A neatly folded letter greens me, the bright white stationary paper matching the envelope.

This is it. Here we go.

I pull open the letter. Dark blue pen lines starkly contrast the white paper. Steve's familiar handwriting fills a good portion of the page. At the bottom his squiggly signature lies, bold and exactly the same as I remember.

Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you. I heard you're back in town. I've been meaning to do this for a long time. I've debated writing to you for years. I didn't know if I had anything good enough to send to you.

I was an asshole to you. You didn't deserve how I broke up with you. I feel horrible about how I treated you. About how I let other people change my opinion and control my actions. I should've stood stronger with what I thought.

That's something I always loved about you. You didn't let other people sway your opinions. I'm sure you still don't. You thought for yourself.

You are so much braver than I am. You didn't compromise yourself for others.

I've thought about what happened for years. About how you must have felt.

I hope you're well. I hope you've been able to move on and you've continued to be yourself. I know I don't deserve to say that, I just wish you the best.

I wanted to explain to you why I did what I did. I owe it to you. I was selfish. I got caught up in the high school popularity shit. I know it's stupid. I wanted to be Hawkins High's main guy. I wanted the Prom King title. I wanted the attention.

I really did like you. You made me feel safe and understood. You were always patient and kind. You urged me to be me, even when I felt like caving under pressure. You liked me for me, not for who I was trying to be. You deserved better than me.

People started to talk. You know. You heard the rumors.

At first, I thought I could handle it. I thought it wouldn't bug me. I thought I could push past it all. I cracked. Tommy and Carol jumped on the wagon and it pushed me over the edge. I couldn't bare the thought of losing the respect I'd worked so hard to get. I couldn't handle the teasing I'd get from the guys after games or the looks Tommy'd send my way when he saw us together.

It was wrong. I didn't think about you. About how you must've felt and how you were handling everything that was going on. It was Senior Year. I should've held on. We would've been out of this shit hole in a few months anyway, I don't know why I didn't just ignore it all. That's one of my biggest regrets.

I've been in therapy for a few years now. I've worked past all that surface-level shallow shit. I really see just how much I hurt you, and for that I'm so sorry.

I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that you're the first girl I ever loved and I am so grateful for you. Our relationship sent me on a path to help myself, and for that I will always love you.

Thank you.

-Steve Harrington

P.S. The week before we broke up I was going to give this to you. I never did.

I glance down at the envelope in my lap and open it. At the bottom lays a shiny silver necklace. A small gem, my birthstone, lays in the center. It glimmers in the light. It's beautiful.

I turn the gem over and spot a small engraving on the back.

SH +Y/N

For a moment I'm torn.

Should I write him back? Should we talk?

Part of me does miss him. I miss his laugh. His playful teasing. The way he looked at me.

No.

He hurt me. A lot.

He can't just send a letter and make it better. Why didn't he talk to me in person if this really weighed on him as much as he says it did? Why didn't he call me?

I don't need him. I'm fine. I've been fine without him for years. I'm not going to let him back into my life because he feels bad about his actions and insecurities.

I left Hawkins for a reason. I needed to get away from Steve. I needed him out of my life.

I'm not going to let him back in for his sake.

I don't need him.

I stand up, taking the papers and necklace in my hand. I walk over to the trashcan near my dresser. Without a second thought, I drop everything into the can.

The necklace makes a small clunking sound as it hits the bottom of my empty can.

The rustling of papers quiets and so does my pounding heart.

I'm fine on my own.

(Do we like this ending? Or should I try to make another part? )

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @queen-apple24

[aheathen-conceivably]

Somewhere on the other side of downtown Strangerville the town’s shopfronts pettered off into the desert, and an old road led through stone buildings falling to the sands of time. Like everything else in this town, Jo figured they had been toppled by the wind and the air; but the people who lived there knew better.

It was just as far from the farmhouse as Jo was willing to walk in heels, although not much further from the bar than her own house was. The fact that she could now call it her house added some spring to her step, even if she had no plans for it to remain that way forever. But for now, it was at least enough to anchor her to her promise to Gio, and the knowledge that she would be leaving it in less than 24 hours made every sight and sound more appealing than ever before, especially since she was there to pick up her ticket out.

Not long after Jo had agreed to her father’s offer, Val had approached her with a smile like she held a secret or had somehow already outwitted Jo in a game she hadn’t even realized they had begun to play.

From the depths of one of her pockets she had fished out the keys to a 1932 Ford Roadster, laughing at Jo’s confused face. Almost as quickly as she had produced them, Val had tucked the keys back into her pocket where they most likely rarely saw the light of day, then explained that the car was Jo’s if she needed it for the tour. All of Jo’s subsequent questions were met with simple shrugs or smiles, so when she approached the house the day before they were set to leave she was still surprised to see Val actually leaning astride the car she had promised.

Before either of them could say a word Jo’s eyes began to wander the scene in front of her. None of it was anything like she had expected. The car was sleek but sturdy, modern and flashy, and utterly at odds with the woman using it like a simple fence post in the desert. Behind it was a small white house with bright shutters and a daring red door, juxtaposed against dilapidated wooden shacks flanking either side of it. Jo didn’t quite know where to look or what to take from the whole scene, so her eyes lingered on the rocking chair on the front porch and wondered if Val ever sat there near sunset.

Val caught her curious gaze and crossed her arms, “What? Were you expecting me to live in a teepee like the guidebooks told you I would?”

A flush crept up Jo’s face as her eyes darted back to the woman she was set to meet. “Val! That’s…that’s not it at all. It’s just so colorful, so new…” So unlike anything I imagined from you. From the house I thought about you going back home to night after night while I tried not to think about where you slept and undressed on my own walks home. Only now I’m here and you’re here and does the inside look like this too? Does your bedroom look just as warm and modern and…

Valcita’s laugh broke the tension settling over the air with every unspoken thought racing across Jo’s mind. “Jesus Christ, Jo, relax. I’m kidding! Come here, would you?”

She leaned off the trunk, gesturing for Jo to walk nearer as she began to explain the mechanisms and workings of the interior. Jo ran her hand along the swooping edge of the car, open to the sky above so that you could drive with your hair blowing in the wind. Already she could hear it deafening her ears, throwing off the protective cover of the truck’s thin metal roof where she had learned to navigate the winding curves at breakneck speeds and made a promise that was getting harder and harder to remember.

As Val kept talking, explaining which buttons to press and gears to shift, Jo couldn’t help but look at her standing between the glittering black paint and small porch. Her ever-present turquoise necklace caught the light of the sun and reflected the color of the shutters. It was usually her only adornment, but now it seemed like just a rock in the desert alongside this treasure she had never expected to find at the edge of the dust bowl.

Val was mid sentence, pointing to the levers for the windows and the locks when Jo’s question finally slipped from her lips. “Why do you have it anyway? The car, I mean. Do you leave? The bar is so close, and I’ve never seen it outside…”

Immediately Val’s arms went back across her body, although Jo was beginning to realize it wasn’t a stance of defensiveness for her the way she had originally thought. It was always paired with some sort of smile that told her it was usually amusement. Or even more likely, defiance. She shrugged her shoulders and confirmed it was the latter. “It was new. Suppose I didn’t need much more of a reason than that, did I?”

The keys now firmly in her own pocket and some modicum of knowledge on how to work the thing thanks to Gio, Jo followed Val around to the driver’s side door. She waited purposefully for Val to lift her hand to the door and pull it open before placing her own neatly beside hers.

As she went to step inside she lifted her right hand to the door, forgetting to move her other one away from Val’s as she looked at the interior of the car laid out before her like a new world. It was nothing like the truck she had learned to drive in, the same one she had dreams of stealing in the night and driving off into the desert with. Only she could already tell that this one was even faster, fast enough to take her all the way to California, or maybe even back to New Orleans. By the time anyone realized, she would be too far gone for them to ever find her again.

Her breath caught in her throat as she composed herself to look back at Val. “I’ll be back at the bar before you know it. It’s only a few weeks after all.”

Val pulled her hand away from Jo’s, as though to tell her she had seen exactly what she had been thinking and had no intentions of holding her back. “No you won’t. I’ve seen your brother play, and I saw how you handled him with my father. They’ll be another tour, and another, until you’re out in California with the rest of the women that look like you.”

Suddenly Jo felt her feet lock in place, and she hesitated to get into the car that she had considered running away in seconds before. “What’s - what’s that supposed to mean?”

As though she could sense the shift in Jo’s posture, Val leaned her weight onto the door. “I said it the day you walked into my bar, ain’t nothing about you that belongs in this town. Not sure how you got out here anyway. But here,” she said, nodding at the steering wheel and moving to shut the door behind Jo as soon as she stepped inside, “There’s your ticket out. Just try and return it to me in one piece, will you?”

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Reader and Rafe have their first fight. The topic of the fight does not have to be anything big, but Rafe looses his temper and really screams, like seeing red. She has heard of the things he has done and how violent he can be, even towards his own family (he is trying to be better, post season 3). During the fight, he snaps at her waving his hands around close to her and she thinks he is going to hit her, and she storms out. He sprints after her (which terrifies her further), he is panicked seeing how she flinched before leaving, and does not want her to ever think that. She locks her car doors as he tries to open  and drives off. He tries to call her several times but she ignores it and it breaks his heart. Rafe is filled with anxiety and the next day, swings by her house but she does not open. He continues this for a few more days until he finally sees her running errands in town. He approaches very carefully, being really sweet and gentle, trying to show that he means no harm and it hurts him to see her a bit afraid, distant. He apologizes for raising his voice but makes it clear that he would never ever hit her. She decides to give it another chance and he is really soft, asking if he can touch her, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.

Stay

Rafe Cameron x Fem Reader

cw: Angst with fluff at the end, small mention of abuse, Rafe being a asshole like always i think that all though

I hope you enjoy beautiful ❤️

The sun had just set over the Outer Banks, casting long shadows across the porch of Tannyhill. The salty breeze from the ocean was usually a comfort, but tonight, it felt heavy, laden with the tension that had been brewing between Rafe and you.

"Rafe, we've been talking about this for months. I want to start a family," you exclaimed, your voice breaking the silence that had settled between you two.

Rafe's jaw tightened. "You think I don't know that? But now isn't the right time!" His voice was rising, the frustration clear.

You took a step back, your heart pounding. "When will it be the right time? We can't keep putting this off!"

Rafe’s eyes darkened, and before he could stop himself, he was shouting. "You think it's that simple? You think I can just forget everything that’s happened and bring a child into this mess?" His hands flew up in exasperation, and for a moment, they were too close to your face.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Rafe, I... I didn't mean it like that." But the fear was already setting in, memories of the stories you had heard about his temper and violence flashing through your mind.

Rafe’s face contorted with anger. "You don’t get it! I’m trying to be better, but it's not easy!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the night.

You flinched, taking a step back. "I thought you were going to hit me," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Without waiting for his response, you turned and stormed out of the house.

Panic surged through Rafe as he watched you leave. "Wait! Please!" he called, sprinting after you. The sight of you flinching had shaken him to his core.

You reached your car and fumbled with the keys, managing to lock the doors just as Rafe reached you. He pounded on the window, his voice desperate. "Please, don't go like this. I would never hurt you. You have to believe me."

Ignoring his pleas, you started the engine and drove off, your heart breaking with each missed call from him that you declined.

Rafe spent the night in agony, filled with anxiety over what he had done. The next morning, he drove to your house, hoping to see you, but you didn't answer the door. He continued this for days, each visit met with silence.

Finally, a week later, he saw you in town, running errands. He approached slowly, his heart racing. "Hey," he said softly, keeping a safe distance. "Can we talk?"

You turned, your eyes wary but curious. "What do you want, Rafe?"

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm so sorry for raising my voice. I was out of line, and I never, ever want you to think I would hit you. I love you too much to hurt you."

Your eyes softened slightly, but the hurt was still there. "It really scared me, Rafe."

"I know," he said, his voice trembling. "I hate that I made you feel that way. Can we try again? I promise I'll do better."

You studied his face, seeing the sincerity and regret in his eyes. Slowly, you nodded. "Okay. But it’s going to take time."

Rafe's heart lifted with hope. "Of course. I’ll give you all the time you need. Can... can I touch you?"

You hesitated, then gave a small nod. He reached out gently, his hand trembling as he touched your arm. "I love you," he whispered.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "I love you too, Rafe. Just... no more yelling."

He nodded fervently. "No more yelling. I promise."

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Linger

Sirius Black x rockstar! f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, like pretty rough guys he bites you till you bleed, underage drinking, underage smoking, a lot of smoking tbh, drunkish sex, kinda has a plot so yeah lmk if i missed anything

summary: you and your band mates decide to go out to a pub, where you end up meeting the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys i’m so bad at these summaries holy. this is probably my favorite fic i’ve written. the flirting and the tension like omg. trust me. also, let’s pretend The Runaways are british and let’s pretend everything id accurate hahaha. enjoy ;)

~~~

“Do you think we’ll be recognized tonight?”

You turn to your bandmate, Joan, and shrug. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

“What pub are we going to again?” She asks.

“The one where they let underage people in, of course, you’re still the only one who’s twenty-one in the band you know,” you reply.

The other two members of your band, Sandy and Lita, are ahead of you, engulfed in their own conversation. You slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket and try to keep up. You’ve been in the band for a few months as the new lead singer. Their old one left to start her own band, claiming it to be more successful. Yet your band is the one that’s gotten sold-out shows, interviews on television, and pictures in magazines. Sometimes you like to think it was fate that she left, and you just so happened to be in town the night they were holding auditions. The fans surely enjoy your voice more, they make you out to be the leader even though you’re only seventeen and the newest member. You don’t mind though, and neither do your bandmates.

It’s almost ten when you arrive at the pub and thankfully no one has recognized you yet, or they have and simply haven’t said anything. There’s no one at the door to check IDs just like Sandy had said. The four of you enter fast and find a table. The music is loud, the lights are low, and people are dancing all over. You like it, a lot.

“Drinks?” Lita questions a few seconds after you sit.

“You know it!” Joan replies.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Sandy takes out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for one?”

“Obviously,” you answer, holding your hand out. She hands you one, you’re quick to light it and stick it between your lips, inhaling a deep breath of smoke. “How come the police haven’t found this place?”

Joan rolls her eyes. “They have.”

“And? Why don’t they shut it down?”

“They have people who come here, of course, sons, daughters, you know that sort of thing. It may be illegal but it’s trustworthy,” she explains. “Why do you care anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious I suppose.”

Lita arrives back at the table, four glasses held in her arms. You take yours fast, eager to taste whatever liquor she got for you. It’s bitter, with a hint of sweetness in it. Based on the color as well, your guess is some sort of vodka mix. You drink it despite the awful aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. The cigarette between your fingers helps a bit. The four of you talk for a while and enjoy the peace of having no fans around.

“You should go to the bar y/n,” Lita says after some time. “Or well it might be too late now, but when I was there, I saw a boy your age, remarkably handsome.”

Sandy laughs. “You’re trying to send her home with someone already?”

Lita nudges the other girl with her shoulder. “No, I’m only trying to get some new song material.”

“We’ll see if there’s any potential,” you say, taking the last sip of your drink and getting up. You brush down your hair. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re always beautiful,” Joan answers, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“Wish me luck.” You chuckle before heading to the bar.

With every step you take, you feel eyes on you. Most belong to older men who shouldn’t even be paying you any mind. You’re used to the feeling of being watched, with all the fans and paparazzi that corner you before and after gigs. So, you move through the pub without a second thought about it.

In the back of your head, you curse yourself for not asking Lita what the guy looks like. For a moment you question how you’re supposed to find him, but then your curious eyes find one guy who stands out. He’s leaning on the wall, a glass in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. Based on his face, you figure he can’t be more than nineteen. And oh, how right Lita was. His hair is dark and long, almost reaching his shoulders. He’s dressed in a simple white tee shirt and baggy jeans. Despite the distance, you swear you can make out a sliver of a tattoo on his shoulder. He’s gorgeous, almost too gorgeous.

You approach him carefully, thinking of different opening lines in your head. Would it be wrong to use your fame to get him to take you home? Probably. But you’ve seen Joan do it plenty of times. She always says it’s simply a tool and that you should use it to your advantage. You’ve never done it though. Perhaps it’s your little amount of consciousness that remains that tells you it’s wrong. You don’t know and the alcohol in your system doesn’t help. So, when you reach him, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hi.”

He looks at you, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hello.”

“How old are you?” You ask, immediately feeling stupid for such a question.

“What are you a cop?” He chuckles.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No uh... sorry.”

“It’s fine love, just not a very good pick-up line,” he replies. He takes his cigarette out, his eyes locked on yours. “Especially since you look like you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen actually.” You correct him.

“Ah, well there’s something we share then.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you comforts you. There’s no recognition in his eyes at all. You can tell. To him, you are just another girl. Not the lead singer of The Runaways. Just a simple girl.

“You can try again if you’d like,” he says. You look at him, confused. “Try another pick-up line.”

You gently smile and think for a few seconds. Nothing better comes to mind.

“Come here often?”

He laughs. “Somehow I think that was worse than the first one.”

“Sorry. Usually, I’m better at this sort of thing,” you reply. You put your hands back in your pockets, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment of silence. He takes a sip of his drink; you stare at his hand. The way it looks wrapped around the glass makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You hate how much you want him to take you home. You don’t even know his name. But he’s handsome, so much so it makes you unable to think straight. You need to know more.

“Are you from around here?”

He nods. “Born and raised in London. You?”

For a split second you wonder, if he’s from London how come he doesn’t know who you are? Sure, your band isn’t on the same level of success as Queen or ACDC but you’re also not underground. You push the thought away.

“Originally from Westchester but now I’m here in London for... work,” you answer.

“Work? I thought you were seventeen.”

“Yes but, eighteen next month. I already finished school.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Wish I could say the same, I still have another year left. Though, I rather enjoy school, gets me away from my dear parents.”

“Oh, where do you go?”

You notice the way he shifts his posture. “Out of the country, you wouldn’t know of it.”

“Like a boarding school?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

You look around the pub, a slight feeling of awkwardness blooming within you. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve done this before. You decide to blame it on the cheap vodka because really, you’re better than this.

“So, what’s your name then?” You ask after a few more minutes.

“Does it really matter?” He replies, catching you a bit off guard. He flicks the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes on yours. “All of it’s the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb love, I know this isn’t your first time. I’m sure you’ve chatted up many other lads and had them take you home.” There’s something about the tone in which he speaks that has your knees almost wobble.

“Why would you think that?”

He sighs, leaning over to a small table discards his cigarette in an ashtray, and leaves his glass. When he leans back on the wall, now with both of his hands-free, he buries them in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He looks down at you with an expression that could send your morals far out of mind. You want him, terribly. And you think he knows this.

“Besides the fact that you said you’re usually better at this, you’re also possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he eventually answers.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, but nevertheless thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. Most girls I see still wear those long skirts and sweaters, but you, you’re dressed like you could pass as a rock star.”

Your face heats up once again. You know he’s right. With your leather jacket, flared jeans, high-heeled boots, and small tight top you know it’s clear what kind of person you are. Your makeup only adds to it, black smudged eyeliner and glitter on your eyes. It’s a toned-down version of what you wear on stage. He doesn’t need to know that though.

You give him a smile and shrug. “Rock is my favorite genre, what can I say? You sort of got that look too though, not quite as intense.”

“Not a gentleman?” He chuckles.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. “At least I hope not.”

“I see. You don’t fancy the good boys. Well fortunately for you, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. At least, that’s what my schoolmates and family say,” he mentions. “What’s wrong with the good boys anyway? They could treat you like a lady.”

“Too gentle, I’m not a fan of it,” you answer honestly.

He smirks, sending warmth straight to your core. “So is your intention to get me out of here and treat you... not gently?”

“My intention is simply to buy you another drink, maybe enjoy a dance or two. What happens at the end of the night is not particularly on my mind right now. I’m more focused on learning your name. Why? Is that what you’d fancy?” You counter, looking up at him through your long lashes.

It has the effect you hoped for because he stands up straight, his back finally off the wall. He offers his hand to you, and you take it softly in yours. It’s so much bigger, so much warmer. You try your hardest to kill all the thoughts of where else you’d like him to touch you with his hand.

“Sirius Black,” he introduces himself.

“Like the star?” You question without thinking.

“Yes, like the star. Now what’s your name.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” you say.

“Charmed. So, how about that drink?”

You smile. It’s going to be a good night, you know it.

The next few hours go by in a flash. You and Sirius drink more than you probably should and dance to the many different songs that play on the jut box. A few different times throughout the night you find the eyes of your bandmates, each of them giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they watch you with Sirius. At one point Joan makes a lewd hand gesture, and you barely get a chance to see Lita smack her. It’s past twelve when you find yourself outside the pub with Sirius sitting on a curb sharing a cigarette.

“I hate these bloody shoes,” you mumble as you dig your heel into the pavement. “They make my feet sore.”

“Then why do you wear them?” Sirius asks, amusement evident in his tone.

You exhale a long breath of smoke, passing the half-burnt cigarette back to him. “I dunno. Beauty is pain.”

“For some, but I’m sure even without those things you’re just as pretty. Actually, I would bet pounds on that being true,” he replies.

“I think I’m rather plain without all this. Would you think the same of me without my makeup and outfit?”

You watch him smirk. “I should think you look even prettier without all of that on. Especially the clothes.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies for the thousandth time tonight. Your shyness left hours ago when you took your first shot. So, instead of simply blushing and looking away, you stand and look down at him with your own smirk.

“Quite the charmer. How about you find come back to mine and find out for yourself?”

He takes one last drag of the cigarette before standing, flicking it to the pavement, and crushing it beneath his sneaker. You watch helplessly as he releases a cloud of smoke, his hand now held out to you.

“I’d quite like that. Lead the way.”

~~~

You don’t know how you keep your composure the whole way home, especially with Sirius’s hand handing yours the entire time. On the train, as you sit, your head on his shoulder, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. It’s a gesture that makes you glad you aren’t standing because your legs feel like jelly. And on the walk up to your apartment, he lets go of your hand and instead places it on the small of your back. You almost fall down the stairs at the contact.

Once you’re inside you immediately take off your boots, leaving them somewhere by the front door. Your jacket follows, only it’s hung on one of your kitchen chairs. When you turn to look at Sirius you find his eyes wandering all over your apartment, examining the details you assume. His sneakers are off, his hands are in his pockets.

“You must have a special job, this place is wonderful,” he says.

“My mates help me with the money, it’s not all mine,” you reply. It’s true, they do help you earn money from performing. You step closer to him, your hands behind your back. “And it’s really not that big. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one very tiny living room combined with the kitchen. But it’s more than enough for me. Would you like the tour?”

“Of course, if the tour starts in your bedroom.”

You can’t help the blush that takes over your face. “Follow me.”

The walk is fast, with every step you feel your heart rate increase. You’ve done this a few times, but for some reason, this time feels different. Perhaps it’s because all the other guys can’t compare to Sirius’s beauty in the slightest. Or perhaps it’s because you already like him a bit more than you should for a one-nighter. You don’t know. And you don’t care to know because you’re about to reach your door.

You open the door fast, letting him in first, and closing it behind you. It’s dark, the only lights coming from outside your small window. You don’t reach for the lights though. Instead, you step closer to the boy, the sound of your breathing suddenly far too loud for your liking. His silhouette moves closer to you as well. It’s almost like there’s an invisible force pushing the two of you together, and you find yourself liking it.

He touches you first. One of his hands finds your waist, he guides you to him faster. Soon enough, you’re practically pressed against him. You can barely breathe from the proximity. You’ve never felt something this intense. You look up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Still want me to not be gentle?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to ruin me,” you say, pressing one of your hands to his chest. You’re happy to find his heart is racing just like yours. “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright.”

Before you can even think of another thought, his lips are on yours. You kiss back instantaneously, your hand moving up into his hair. It’s soft, like you expected. He’s far from gentle with his kissing, and you’re glad. His lips move fast on yours, his teeth scraping your tongue. He bites down on your lip so hard you whimper, and the metallic taste of your blood clouds your senses.

Still, despite the pain, when he pulls back you almost whine from the loss of contact. But his hands move fast to pull your shirt up. You help him get it off, then move to his. Through the darkness, you can see the few tattoos he has on his chest and shoulder. They’re dark, they’re beautiful. You run your fingertips over them as he leans back down and connects your lips once again. You begin to guide the two of you towards your bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. Sirius doesn’t follow you though. Instead, he stands between your legs at the foot of the bed and begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. You watch in awe, lifting your hips to help him drag them down your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties. You sit up, your eyes on him, as you start undoing his belt.

After his jeans are on the floor he pushes you back down on the mattress, climbing over you this time. You kiss him deeply, dragging one of your hands down his warm back, and weaving the other through his hair. That warmth deep inside you has grown, consuming you entirely. You can feel the wetness between your legs, surely staining your panties. You’ve never been so turned on by a guy in your life.

He suddenly parts your kiss, his lips beginning to move down your jaw and neck. You moan, throwing your head back to give him more access. When he bites down on you, so hard you can feel a stinging from it breaking skin, you pull at his hair, sounds of pleasure escaping your swollen lips.

Eventually, after leaving many hickeys and bite marks on your neck, he pulls back entirely and flips you over onto your stomach. You smirk against the mattress as you feel him unclip your bra. To help get it off, you lift yourself on your hands, and the straps quickly fall. You throw it off without even thinking about it. You’re about to turn back but Sirius presses a hand between your shoulder blades, silently telling you to stay as you are. You don’t hesitate to comply.

You feel him move and instinctively you lift your hips in the air. He places a kiss on your back, it almost makes you shiver. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your last piece of clothing off. You normally would feel some sense of vulnerability at this point. Completely naked with your ass in the air. But the alcohol mixed with the utter need you have for Sirius takes control. You feel him shift.

“Do you have a rubber?” The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your legs together.

“Unless you have a disease, you don’t need one. I’m on birth control,” you answer, looking over your shoulder at him.

“No diseases I swear,” he says.

“Then proceed.”

You get up properly on all fours, the anticipation killing you. When he positions his tip at your entrance, you inhale sharply. He rubs his cock through your wet folds for a few seconds, brushing against your clit ever so slightly, before thrusting inside you in one quick, hard motion. You can’t help the moan that leaves you. He’s big, stretching you in a way that’s on the brink of being painful. It’s perfect.

He fucks you hard, very hard. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. At one point, your arms give out and your face presses against the mattress. Your hands twist in the sheets, your moans muffled by the bed. Sirius doesn’t like this. He twists one of his hands in your hair and pulls you up, the pain only adding to the building of your orgasm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. “Fuck Sirius.”

He’s relentless. He fucks you through your first orgasm, not faltering for even a second. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, pulling out and flipping you onto your back. You scratch your nails down his back as he begins to fuck you in missionary, your lips on his.

You don’t know how long passes by the time he tells you he’s close. What you do know is that your second orgasm is not far either. With tears in your eyes, you let him switch positions once again, this time you’re on top of him. Your muscles are weak and sore, but that doesn’t stop you from riding him as well as you can. Sweat covers your body, and incoherent words drip off your lips. You can barely take it anymore.

“I-I’m almost there,” you mumble.

“Me too love,” Sirius replies, his breath ragged. “Finish us both off.”

You struggle to hold yourself up, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, just a few more minutes,” he assures you, running one of his hands through your hair.

Much to his word, in a few minutes, he finishes. Hard. He moans your name in an indescribable tone, and his cock pulses inside you so intently, it causes your second orgasm to occur. As this happens, you lie on his chest, both of your breathing very uneven. He holds you tight against him.

Eventually, you roll off him and stare at your ceiling. You try to comprehend what just happened. Never in your life have you experienced something so intense. Most of the time when you told guys to be rough with you, they’d be turned off. But Sirius... You turn to your side to face him.

“Want a smoke?”

“Certainly.”

~~~

It’s safe to say, you don’t let him go all summer. You spend every second you can with him. Most of the time in your sheets, but a good amount doing other things. You paint his nails black, teach him how to wear eyeliner, and how to dress more like yourself. You enjoy every second you get with him.

He never does discover your fame, at least he never says so. You think he would know. Each time you go out you try your hardest to be unnoticeable and you always hide away magazines and switch the channel whenever something about your band is shown. But he never does say anything. Sometimes at night, you sing to him softly and you always laugh when he tells you that you should take it professionally.

You learn how much he hates his family, except for his little brother. You learn he loves Queen and David Bowie. You learn his favorite color is ironically black. You learn as much about him as you can and with each fact you do learn, you only fall more for him. But you never speak of it. You know the inevitable ending.

On the night before he goes back to school, the two of you lay in your bed, a thick silence between you. As usual, you pass a cigarette back and forth. Only this time, there are no words accompanying. Until he speaks.

“For once, I’m not looking forward to going back.”

You turn to your stomach and look at him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me either,” he agrees. He holds the cigarette to you; you take it fast. “I can phone you if you want. You know, while I’m there. Or send letters.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You question.

“I think I really fancy you, and I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

You give him a weak smile and press a kiss on his bare shoulder. “Oh, Sirius.”

~~~

A few months later...

“Five minutes till show time,” an assistant tells you.

You’re sitting in your dressing room backstage. Joan, Sandy, and Lita all have their own space now. You find it funny how much The Runaways have blown up since the summer. Now, everywhere you turn you see yourself in a magazine or a news article. You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, or without the paparazzi showing up.

As you look in the mirror your mind travels back to Sirius. This happens a lot. Right before a concert, you think of him. Sometimes you wonder if maybe he’s out there listening. You haven’t heard from him since he went to school. You aren’t angry, only a bit sad. You’re mostly grateful though. He inspired most of the songs in your number-one album that got the band all the new attention.

You stand from the vanity and sigh. Tonight, your performance is being televised worldwide. Beside the door is your guitar, you pick it up as you begin your journey out to the stage. You’ve got a good lineup, even a small intermission for a happy birthday song. You hope wherever he is he hears it.

After all, it is November 3rd.

[flippinpancakes64]

the cullens with a vampire hunter reader that will NOT harm the Cullens?

The Cullens with a Vampire Hunter! Reader

Writing this as I’m waiting for food at the Texas Roadhouse lol

Also I watched Longlegs today talk about a weird ass movie. It was good though, I would recommend it if you're into weird horror.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He doesn’t trust you at first

Instantly, he knows what you are

He can hear your thoughts and how you intend to harm vampires

He warns the family about you

You had heard about a family of vampires who didn’t harm people, but you didn’t believe it

You were convinced that it had to all be an elaborate lie

But when you see one of them in public, it's instantly obvious

The golden eyes, the calm demeanor, etc.

He takes a while to warm up to you, he still doesn't trust you entirely

But when some opposing vampires come into the area and you fight with the Cullens, he stands corrected

He helps you fight other vampires lol

He doesn't like them either

He follows you all around the world to go hunting

He loves it

Alice:

She sees you coming in a vision

She sees you holding a vampire's head as they wither away into smoke

And then she sees a flash of you crossing the line into whatever town they are in

She warns everyone that you are coming

And when you arrive, you almost get into a battle

But then you see that the Cullens are different

In the moment that you hesitate and choose not to attack, Alice gets a flash of the two of you together in the future

She declares that you're not a threat

She trusts you fully from the beginning

She gets a bit wary just because she's worried that if Jasper slips at all that you might attack him

Just reassure her that you won't <3

Jasper:

You had been tailing him for a while through the college campus

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted

All you knew was that he was far too beautiful and graceful to be human

But one day you sat next to him in the cafeteria and you saw his newly golden eyes from him having just fed yesterday

He could feel the shock from you

When he turned to fully look at you it was like he could feel the connection

After you two talk for a while, he learns that you're a vampire hunter

He gets a bit nervous after that

I feel like he's probably run into some trouble with hunters before

So yeah he's a bit scared

He takes a while to warm up to you

But after you reassure him multiple times that you are not a threat to him or his family, he relaxes

He also tells you about all of his troubles with cravings

He feels so much better that you're so patient with him

Rosalie:

Yeah she doesn't trust you at all

She's already not a huge fan of humans

But someone who poses a threat to her family who she will never admit that she cares about? Yeah no

She will be the last one to warm up to you guaranteed

And it will take a while

She needs to be 100% certain that you aren't gonna hurt them

I feel like it would take one last big push for her to really start trusting you

Like an attack from a rogue vampire that you help fight

That will kick into her mind that you really do care and mean no harm

After that she hangs out with you a bit more

But don't expect too much

At least not a first

Just give her time, she'll come around

Emmett:

He's one of the quickest to trust you

I feel like after a couple of days of you not trying to kill them he's like "good enough for me"

He's just really curious about how you do it

I mean, it takes him a bit of force to kill a vampire, so how does a human do it

He wants to go hunting with you

He just thinks it's fun

Every once in a while, it's very rewarding to pick on someone your own size

He would make jokes about your profession if you ever say he's annoying you

"Emmett. Stop tapping my head, I'm busy"

"Or what? You gonna kill me?"

And then he acts shocked when you hit him on the head

Esme:

She's very worried

The last thing she wants is danger to come to her family

But at her core she is a loving and accepting person

So it doesn't take her long to warm up to you

She is still pretty wary around you, she doesn't truly know what to expect after all

But having you around is a pretty big comfort to her

Just knowing that there's one more person who's able to defend each other should the need arise

She is also very curious about what exactly it is that you do, but she does not want to be a part of that

Not her cup of tea

Carlisle:

Another one who has encountered vampire hunters before

Only, the last ones he interacted with didn't care that he didn't hurt humans, they just wanted him dead

So it's a very pleasant surprise when you don't instantly try to kill him

You explain that you heard rumors of a big vampire clan that was completely docile and you needed to see it for yourself

He's very curious to hear about all of your adventures

But he's also not going to go hunting with you

He has other things to do

He does trust you pretty early on, though

His thought process is that if you wanted to try to kill them then you would have done it already

And Edward or Alice would have told him something's up

Vampire! Bella:

She's pretty extreme

When you first show up and reveal what you are, she is ready to attack no questions asked

But as soon as Edward and Alice confirm that you're not a threat, she is instantly your bestie

In like a casual way though

She's so curious, she wants to know everything

She becomes attached at the hip for a while

And yes she does want to go kick some vampire ass with you

She's so down