#thinking about how nice it would be if he could find some flowers to pick for her headstone

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Can’t stop thinking about dnd aus for multiple fandoms it’s actually a problem

[silkythewriter]

I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—

Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.

Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎

Warnings!: Non!

Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!

Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID

Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️

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“Call me, you can call me

Boy, just call me (call me, call me)

While you stalling, I'm evolving

I'd give all me”

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!

First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!

No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.

Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!

Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.

The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!

He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.

All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.

Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.

He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!

Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”

Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,

honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.

Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.

“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”

It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him

The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!

Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.

Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω｀💧)

He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.

At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.

He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!

He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.

It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.

Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)

He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!

overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)

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I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

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[euphoricfilter]

the silent ‘i love you’

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: sometimes you don’t need words

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: fluff!!!! just very soft and nice and easy to read for tonight. intensional lowercase. sort of sleepy thoughts about love <3

where you can find my other works :D

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

some days jungkook simply felt like those three words weren’t enough. that the warm glow of his fragile soul couldn’t scream loud enough for your own precious existence to know how much he truly loved you.

that the whispered words of love as the both of you woke, or a gentle kiss before you both slept and met in your dreams— it simply was only the surface of how he felt. that the silent ‘i love you’ the both of you shared each day was somehow louder than the words themselves.

tender souls touching in a whimsical dance between your existence.

tangled so tight, unmoving, seeping out of you with that fluttery sort of love.

the kind of love that pulls a smile onto your lips at the mere thought of them. gentle touch enough to have your skin alight. obsessive, itching greed consuming every fibre of your being, needing them closer than humanly possible. bodies pressed together and heart beats in sync, tied together by a string of fate and life times you shared before this one.

and some days neither of you had to say ‘i love you’ but that didn’t mean the love wasn’t there. that either of you loved the other any less than you had the day before. or more than you would tomorrow. because it was ever-growing. blooming in both your chests, a flower that would live through all of eternity.

it would be him waking before you, purple and blue toothbrushes sat beside one another in the cup on the sink. or how on some days he’d pick your shower gel over his own. for no other particular reason that he loved everything about your existence, that he felt that little bit closer to you in the hours you had to part.

or remembering to tuck one of your hairties in one of his pockets, just in case.

the same hair tie you’ll find in the washing machine days later, smile tugging at your lips. because as much as you remind him to take everything out his pockets before putting them into the washing machine, there were things you could never get mad over. not when he thinks of you, even when you’re not there. a silent show of care that you never bring up because that was his secret to keep, dissolved into the back of your mind for safe keeping.

he likes to hold your hand as you cross the road, fingers interlaced. because he knows sometimes you get too caught up in your own head, unaware of the wider world around you. so he keeps you glued to the pavement before tugging you across the road. fingers squeezing yours when he knows the both of you are back to safety and you’ll let him pull you around, blind trust in him to take you where you need to go

you like picking him up from work, sat outside on a bench with a box of treats for the walk home. and he would indulge you, even if he had the car parked a block away. not caring if it would mean he had to walk the next morning. because he would never abandon those gentle moments with you, shoulders knocking as you kiss sweet cream from his lips, desperate to hear about his day just as much as you want to share yours

you liked to say ‘i love you’ through the stars. tugging him to the roof of the apartment building, legs tangled as you lay on a blanket.

you both look up at the sky.

so many questions slipping off your tongue. where you talk of fate and destiny and how you loved to believe that two souls so intricately intertwined like your own was probably crafted by something as beautiful as the stars, or another celestial being that just knew what the future held. speckles of fine stardust crafted and moulded, so, when you found a mortal body there would be no doubt he was the one for you, just as you were the one for him.

he likes sending you photos of cats. adopting the habit of carrying a small bag of treats around with him; though neither of you have a pet.

he remembers the frown that would tug on your face each time you’d come across a stray. and he’d stand there for as long as you like as your fingers pet over fluffy heads and behind furry ears. another silent vow of love to a lonely creature.

you liked to pack him lunches, hours spent in the kitchen of a nighttime experimenting, because you never wanted him to have a dull meal. and he’d sit there at the table, reading as a piano piece plays over your phone. not a word spoken between the both of you, and some nights you scuttle his way with a fork-full of something for him to try.

there was love in the tv shows you watched together, the music you shared, the space you both lived in. the closet was a muddle of clothes and accessories that he liked to steal from you just like you steal from him. racks of both your shoes line the entry way of the apartment, collection of mugs a sudden birthday tradition that will go on for as long as you’re alive.

you lived in his mind like you lived in the plants around the house. or the posters you’d put on the walls. and he lived in your mind with gaming consoles and photos of you hung up that he had taken, loved and forever cherished; thriving in the memory of you and how much he loved you then and how much he loves you now.

jungkook had tried to find a better word.

hours spent laying in bed, with your head on his chest, moon spilling into the room as he mulls over the thought of you.

how he likes how warm you are, how he likes sharing this space with you. that he’s glad he’s found you, grateful that you exist within the same time line as him.

your silly little stories of a wonderful sweet sort of love filling his own mind— because maybe you really were crafted for one another. and even if he forgets three simple words, the both of you know love lives within the sphere of your existence.

because maybe that’s what the both of you are when you’re together. maybe even in those moments you’re apart. perhaps you’re the epitome of the word love and that’s why all the silent ‘i love yous’ equal more than words ever will

[gaypirate420]

Stars // Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.

Summary: You're bored in class and doodle on Jasper's arm.

Fluff. Jasper's Battle Scars.

A yawn scaped your lips as you stared down at your teacher as she gives a lecture that is not registering on your mind at all. She's talking something about the history of Forks, you don't care, she's boring and it's making you sleepy.

You stared down at your notes, empty except for today's date, your eyes travel to your right to find Jasper actually paying attention and writing down what he finds useful.

"Isn't that a bit useless?" You whisper to him, Jasper's eyes meet yours and he smirks, he raised an eyebrow.

"Writing down notes for history, I mean, I don't think you need notes, you where there." You explained, whispering very low the last part, Jasper lean over closer to you.

"I don't, but you need them, darlin'." He whispered back with a small smile. You smiled and felt your cheeks warming up after hearing the nickname. Your hand went up to his messy hair and brush it down with your fingers, he smiled at your action and let you be.

He quickly stealed a kiss off your cheek and kept paying attention to the class as if nothing happened while you felt your cheeks burning.

Jasper saw how your attention went to anything but the class, you took your pencil case that's full of scrunched up post its and colorful pens and started doodling on your notebook.

Jasper doesn't mind helping you, he gets to spend more time with you and you get a handsome vampire tutor to explain you what you missed over and over if necessary and never gets angry.

The vampire looks back at the teacher, as he hears your pen moving all around the page.

He feels you lifting the sleeves of his sweater and cursing under your breath when you found his dress shirt.

"So many layers, can't even get cold." You murmur teasinly, if it wasn't from his increased hearing he would miss little things like this. Jasper smirks and continues to write before he feels the pen against his marble skin.

He stayed still for a second, his eyes moved to look at you.

You can't see them, his scars, not all of them. But the ones you do seem to be treated with extreme care as you started doodling on his pale arm.

They don't itch, they don't hurt, but, for him, it felt so nice, so important.

Jasper felt flustered, almost like his dead hearth skipped a beat at the sight of the tender scene.

You drew stars, it felt right. You smiled widely as you keep adding more and more, along with little hearts and even a flower on his forearm.

"Do you like your tattoos?" You whispered with the cutest smile he's ever seen. Jasper nodded.

"You're very talented, pumpkin." He could feel your heart skipping and of course your emotions going wild. He smiles as your happiness rub off on him.

"Now you do mine." You offered your pen to him, Jasper looked back at the teacher who spoke nonsense by now, he could make the teacher look like fool on another day for now he smiles and picks up the pen.

His icy cold fingers gently grabbed your arm, bringing it closer to him, you felt a shiver down your body at the sensation.

Your felt the tingly sensation of the pen against your arms, making you giggle silently.

Jasper drew flowers, some skulls that matched your wristband and of course, stars. Your eyes admired him, his blonde hair falling on his face and his furrowed eyebrows showing the absolute dedication to this task.

"There, sugar." He spoke gently, you looked at your arm and grabbed his hand. You saw his wrist and with your free hand you passed two of your bracelets from your wrist to his.

Jasper smiled again, it's odd for him to doing that so many times on so little time, he's getting giddy in the best way possible.

"Now we match." You spoke with an excited whisper. Jasper nodded, your eyes went wide with an idea.

"We should wear matching outfits one day." You smiled wider at the thought. The vampire nodded in agreement.

"That's a great idea, dear." His golden eyes looked at you before he leaned and kissed your lips.

"Mister Hale." The teacher called his name and he pulled away from you, your cheeks were burning again and you looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Miss." Jasper spoke with a victorious smirk as the teacher's frown disappears and turns into a smile, and of course the rest of the class magically turning their heads from you and Jasper.

"Don't worry about it." The teacher spoke with a following chuckle before returning to give her lecture. You giggle softly and shaked your head in mocking disapproval.

Jasper steals another quick peek on your lips before focusing back to writing notes for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Little fluffy one shot for y'all, I'm working on the requests do not worry. Hope you like it!

[waitimcomingtoo]

Broke His Heart Cause He Was Nice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: the games are over now and Peeta finds out your relationship was all an act

Masterlist

It was the day you were finally set to arrive back home in District 12 after completing your victory tour for winning the games. You’d been anxiously waiting for this day and wanting nothing more than to trade the makeup and tight dresses for your boots and own bed. The train was running late, ironic considering how fast it was, and you were too anxious to sit still. You noticed a pathway near the train platform and longed to be alone with your thoughts in nature.

“I’m gonna take a walk while we wait for the train.” You announced. Effie sighed and shut her compact mirror before looking at you.

“I suppose that’s all right. But don’t go too far. We board in 15 minutes.” She reminded you. You nodded and started to walk away when Peeta stood up.

“Can I come with you?” He asked. You gulped and forced a smile before nodding your head.

“Always.” You told him. He smiled back and walked beside you as you headed down the walkway together. Your hand bumped against Peeta’s as you looked up at the trees around you. As soon as he slipped his hand into yours, you felt tremendous guilt fill your stomach. You were yet to address the nature of your relationship now that the games were over. You had blurred the lines so much between faking a relationship for the camera and navigating your true feelings for Peeta that you had no idea where you stood now. Peeta saw the uneasy look on your face and let go of your hand to walk ahead. He picked some flowers for you and handed you the bouquet he had arranged.

“For you.” He blushed as he presented them to you.

“Oh.” You smiled in surprise. “Thank you.”

Peeta returned the smile before continuing to walk down the pathway. You watched him as he walked, feeling like the distance between you was matching the distance you felt inside.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to be back in District 12 tomorrow. I really didn’t think we’d ever see it again.” Peeta said as he continued to stroll along the flowerbeds.

“Neither did I.” You admitted, making Peeta stop. He turned around and looked at you for a long time, making you uncomfortable in the silence.

“What do we do once we get back?” He asked as he earnestly stared into your eyes. He looked just as lost as you were and you wished you could give him some answers.

“I guess we try to forget.” You answered, making Peeta’s eyes soften.

“I don’t want to forget.” He said quietly. You stared into his eyes as you guilt built up and up until it threatened to spill out your throat. Before you could say anything more, you heard a voice behind you.

“Hey. There you two are.” Haymitch said as he approached. “You guys should be proud of yourselves. I’ve seen a lot of victory tours but I haven’t heard crowds cheer like that in years. You really sold the whole star-crossed lovers who survived with the power of love thing. Especially you, sweetheart. Keep it up exactly the way you were playing it.”

“Thanks.” You said immediately as your entire face burned in embarrassment. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Peeta’s look of confusion. Haymitch had no idea what he had just done and was too drunk to realize it. He patted your shoulder with a drunken smile and stumbled back to the train.

“What’s he talking about?” Peeta asked as soon as you were alone. You opened your mouth to answer him but found yourself speechless. You knew this moment would come eventually, you just didn’t think it’d happen before you even got a chance to go home.

“What was he talking about? What are you keeping up?” Peeta asked again when you took too long to answer. You looked into Peeta’s eyes and stumbled over a few broken sentences as tears filled your eyes. You didn’t even know why you were crying, you just felt full of emotion over the fact that you knew Peeta’s world was about to shatter. You had grown an immense fondness, even love, for him since the start of all of this and you knew he was about to hate you. Before you could confess the truth, Peeta put it all together. He took a step back from you as his hand went over his mouth.

“Oh my God. It was all an act, wasn’t it?”

Peeta whispered. “The way you behaved in the games wasn’t real. Waking me up with kisses, feeding me, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. You were just pretending, weren’t you? You did it all for the cameras.”

“Not all of it. Some things were real.” You promised him. “But Haymitch and I knew that if I played up the romance, we’d get more sponsees. And it worked. We did.”

“You and Haymitch had a plan? And you didn’t tell me?” Peeta shouted. He was usually so soft spoken that hearing him yell made you stumbled back in surprise.

“We never officially made a plan.” You tried to explain. “But after I kissed you and we were sent food, I realized that Haymitch was telling me that that’s what we had to do to get sponsors. So I kept doing it. And we kept getting sponsors.”

“I should’ve known.” Peeta shook his head. “I should’ve known you didn’t just happen to fall in love with me.”

“Peeta.” You said tearily as you watched his heart break. You knew he’d be upset, but this was harder than you thought.

“I knew it was too good to be true. You never actually felt the things I felt. You were just playing a part.” Peter said quietly as he wiped his eyes.

“You’re the one who started the romance plot anyway, remember? Why are you mad that I kept it up?” You folded your arms, angry now that he wasn’t seeing your side of things.

“Because I didn’t know there was something to keep up. I didn’t know you and Haymitch had a secret plan behind my back. I was just dumb enough to believe I could actually trust you. How stupid am I?”

“You’re not stupid, Peeta. And you can trust me. You have to understand that I wanted to tell you about it but I couldn’t. There were cameras everywhere. If I told you, everyone watching would’ve known it wasn’t real. I had to keep the illusion. And that meant keeping it a secret from you too.”

“Wasn’t real.” Peeta laughed sadly. “Illusion?”

Your anger subsided for a moment when you heard the pain in his voice. Your choice of words had just thrown salt in his wounds. You stopped trying to win the argument for a moment and realized that you had a right to be angry, but so did he. You walked over to him and cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Peeta, there were so many times I wanted to draw the curtains closed and block the rest of the world out and just be with you. I swear, I did. But we didn’t have that choice. If things were different and we had gotten together in a normal situation, maybe I’d know where my feelings lie. But I don’t, Peeta. I’m sorry.”

“I thought things were going to be different now. I thought something good had come out of the games.” Peeta said as he stared at the ground.

“Things are different.” You insisted.

“Yeah. They definitely are.” Peeta wiped his face and turned away from you so you couldn’t see him cry.

“How can you be mad at me for this? We were strangers before the game. I wasn’t thinking about romance. I was thinking about saving our lives.”

“I know that. In my heart, I know that. I just can’t get it through my head yet. God, I can’t believe you were acting.” Peeta said and stressfully tugged at his hair.

“I know this is upsetting to hear but I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I thought you were acting too.” You protested. “I assumed you knew we had to play up the romance for sponsors and that’s why you kept kissing me and saying the things you did.”

“No. I didn’t know. I was never pretending.” Peeta snapped, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. He was never one to be quick to anger, so it surprised you that you were having such a hard time getting him to calm down.

“Putting on the act got us both out, okay? There is no other circumstance where we would’ve both come out alive. This was the only way.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew sooner.” Peeta sighed and sat down on the ground. You looked at him for a minute before looking around and behind you. You wished there was someone, anyone, to tell you what to do in this situation. You wish you had a script or some cards form Effie telling you what to say. Peeta was just sitting on the ground, staring into space, and you had no idea how to bring him back. No one had ever been mad at you in this way before and you didn’t know what to do. Realizing no one was coming to help, you walked over and sat beside Peeta. You could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry but it wasn’t exactly working in his favor. He turned his face away from you and he quietly sniffled.

“If there was a way I could’ve told you, I would’ve.” You said as you placed a hand on his back. Peeta nodded his head and wiped his face before giving you a sad smile.

“I believe you.” He said. You returned the sad smile and rubbed small circles on his back. Peeta stared off into space again while you stared at him. You let silence sit between you for a long time until you broke it.

“Were you really never pretending?” You asked quietly. You saw his mouth tug into a slight smile as he shook his head.

“Never. I meant every word I said.” Peeta said, sounding almost proud. You smiled a little when you thought of all the kind things he had said about you in the cave and how you now knew they were true.

“How much was fake for you?” Peeta asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you now with those puppy dog eyes of his and it made you feel ten times worse.

“I don’t know, Peeta.” You sighed. “I don’t remember every little detail.”

“I do. What about our first kiss? Real or not real?” He asked with a certain desperation in his voice. You cracked a smile in surprise and looked at him.

“Real. I couldn’t bear listening to you talk about dying, so I kissed you to shut you up.” You told him, making him smile as his face turned red.

“I have a feeling you’re forgiving me.” You chuckled and pointed at him, making his smile drop.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “The kisses when you got the broth the first time. Real or not real.”

“Not real. I’m not really the type to wake someone up with kisses.” You said sheepishly.

“I guess I always kind of knew that about you.” Peeta admitted. “What else was fake?”

“When I asked you about your crush on me when we were in the cave. I was trying to get us to have some kind of grand emotional moment because the kisses weren’t cutting it anymore. I needed to go bigger.” You admitted.

“Oh.” Peeta’s face fell. “You didn’t really want to know?”

“I really wanted food.” You confessed. “And I honestly thought you made that story up because you were hungry too. Did your dad really want to marry my mom?”

“Yeah. And he’s not thrilled I told that story, by the way. Apparently it was really quiet in the bakery that night.” Peeta said, making you genuinely laugh for the first time in a while. Peeta couldn’t help but smile when he heard you laughing but wasn’t done with the questions.

“When you said I didn’t have any competition, real or not real?” Peeta asked a a he looked into your eyes.

“That was real.” You replied, and you meant it.

“What about Gale?” Peeta asked, sounding like he didn’t believe you. You looked Peeta up and down

“He’s not your competition.” You laughed like it was silly, making Peeta smile.

“He’s not?” He asked hopefully.

“He’s basically family. I think if something were to ever happen between us, it would’ve happened already.”

“Hm. Good to know.” Peeta blushed and looked away again.

“Any other questions?” You asked him. “I really do want to make it up to you. I’ll answer anything you want.”

“When you said I walk too loud…” Peeta asked and trailed off.

“Real. Very real. You were so loud I wanted to kill you.”

“We could’ve avoided all this if you had.” Peeta muttered, making you laugh again. Peeta laughed as well and looked at you for a moment.

“Did you try as hard as you did to save my life for the romance plot?” He asked quietly as if fearful of the answer.

“No.” You said immediately. “I did what I did because I couldn’t handle the thought of you dying. I still can’t. I almost broke a steel door down when they separated us after we won. You were the only thing on my mind. That was the moment for me when I realized I wasn’t acting all that much. I love you deeply, Peeta. I know that for certain. I’m just not really sure what kind of love that is yet.”

Peeta looked into your eyes for a while and eventually, he seemed to be satisfied with your response. You knew he understood where you were coming from even if it hurt him to know the truth.

“I’m sure what my love is.” He said after a beat of silence. It wasn’t reproachful, more like a passing thought. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you to know it too.

“Could you wait for me? Until I figure it out?”

“I will.” Peeta nodded, making you smile on relief. He smiled too and the faintest blush crept over his cheeks. He looked out into the distance for a minute and a comfortable silence settled between you. He then turned to you and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. Just in case it was his last time for a while getting to do such a thing. It was your first kiss without a single camera present and you felt that familiar hunger sensation in your chest that left you wanting more. When he pulled away, you wanted him to do it again.

“Are you any closer to figuring it out?” He asked completely serious, making you laugh. You stared into his eyes and truly could not imagine your life without him.

“You know what?” You cracked a smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Tag list 🏷️

@sarcasm-and-stiles

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

[leighsartworks216]

Prompt for whenever you want it: the reader grew up in a household where she wasn't allowed to be very feminine/like cute things. Her family was adamant that she be tough and that anything remotely feminine or pretty would be wasted on her. So she secretly likes cute and pretty things, but has internalized all the things her family told her so she never let's it show. I would love to see astarion pick up on it and how he would react? I just imagined one day he presents her with a delicate handkerchief with her initials (he embroidered them himself) and I practically bawled my eyes out 😭😭😭

Idk why I really struggled to write this one. I just had a hard time starting it. So I'd write an opening, hate it, leave it for a bit, come back, leave it again. But I finally got it to a point that I am happy with it

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing

Word Count: 1,041

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

One gets quite good at reading people when that’s all you did for 200 years. Someone would twitch and Astarion could know exactly what they were thinking. Reading you was as easy as opening a book.

Every time you passed a market or merchant, Astarion could see the way your eyes flit longingly over jewelry or dresses. It was always brief. If the vendor noticed, they’d try pitching the item to you; the same old lines: “A beautiful necklace for a beautiful lady!” But you just smiled politely and shook your head, muttering how it wasn’t your style.

It was curious. Throughout your journey so far, he’d noticed other things, too. How you’d save the most beautiful, feminine dresses for your female companions. At first he just thought you wanted to give them something nice, but it was odd when you’d provide them an item much more suited to your strengths than their own. How your eyes would linger a little longer on flowers and lace gloves. But the moment you felt eyes on you, you’d turn away, the distant longing gleam in your eye replaced with a set determination.

He’d even caught you staring at the embroidery on his clothes once or twice.

(“Distracted, are we?”

“I was only wondering what it says. An odd poem for a shirt.”

“Hmph. Clearly it’s meaning is lost on you, darling.”)

So, with 200 years of experience, Astarion came to the only conclusion he could plausibly find. He accounted for your own attire - masculine or purely functional - your steadfast avoidance of anything feminine, the sorrow that visibly washed over you when you came across something particularly beautiful.

You didn’t allow yourself these things, because you couldn’t.

Well, you could, he supposed. But you weren’t. Perhaps, like him, you felt you didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps, like him, it had been ingrained into your very being that you couldn’t have it. Either way, the result was the same.

He wasn’t honestly sure what came over him when he realized. And it had taken him a few days to think about the idea that formulated unbidden, itching at the back of his mind in a way that put the tadpole to shame. But one night, after feeding (on you and a boar), he sat within his tent and got to work. He threaded the eyes of needles with practiced ease, steadily guided it back and forth through the material in his hands, creating elegant shapes. If he was being honest, it was some of his best work.

It took him even longer to gather the nerves to give it to you. You handed out gifts freely - armor, weapons, trinkets, blood. But he’d… well, he’d never really given anyone a gift before. Nothing as genuine as this, certainly. His mind, his own worst enemy aside from Cazador, kept plaguing him with thoughts of how you’d hate it. How you’d take one look at it, struggle through a smile, and tuck it away at the bottom of your bag. And so it remained in his belongings, safely hidden.

And then you just had to go and be so damn good. You just had to stand up to Araj Oblodra when she kept insisting he drink from her. You just had to quietly tell him that he could, if he wanted to, but only if he wanted to. And you just had to respect his choice. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. Nobody had ever done that for him. His choices didn’t matter, his comfort didn’t matter. But you didn’t even hesitate.

When you sought him out at camp later that night, you even told him he was free. No longer a slave who had to get on his back for mere breadcrumbs. Too many emotions - relief, fear, euphoria, worry, gratefulness - flooded his chest.

He cleared his throat. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to give you,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Consider it a… thanks, for what you did for me back there.”

He pulled the neat, white handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to you. Red eyes flit over your face, trying to read every little expression that passed, as you stared at the cloth. On the corner, embroidered in the same golden thread as he used on his shirt, were your initials. Immaculate and shiny.

Your mouth opened. Your eyes were wide, your brow furrowed and then raised. You struggled for words. You met his eyes with shock. “A-Are you sure? I mean, this is much too fine for me - I was happy to stand up for you - Not that you needed any help! I mean-”

“Darling,” he hushed. So you did enjoy it, after all. “It’s a gift. Consider it repayment for all the nights you’ve bared your neck for me, if nothing else. A simple exchange.”

A dying sound left your throat with a breath as you looked back down at the handkerchief. With shaky hands, you took it from him. You held it as though it was a religious artifact from the gods, not a folded square of soft silk with lace borders. It had the same smooth feel as running your fingers over the surface of still water. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes as you ran a thumb over the letters.

“I…” You took a shaky breath, looking up at him again through the building water in your eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

He smirked, though your blatant joy made his lips twitch into the start of a genuine smile. “You… deserve something nice. Something more than, well,” he gestured vaguely at your worn cotton attire, “this.”

You laughed and brushed away the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks with the back of your hands. “You’re still a bastard.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“But a nice bastard.”

“Careful, darling.” He leaned forward with an even wider smirk, fangs peeking out as a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. “We wouldn’t want word getting out.”

And if he caught sight of that little cloth poking out from a pocket or resting at the top of your bag, well maybe he let himself enjoy that warmth in his chest.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171

[rafeandonlyrafe]

how you get the girl

words: 900

warnings: mutual pining, brief mentions of sex

“hey, rafe.” you say, plopping down on the couch next to him, lucky to find him alone at the party.

“what’s up?” rafe asks, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“just wanted to ask you something.” you say, biting your lip.

“want to ask me to fuck you in the bathroom?” rafe smirks.

“no, uh-” you have an agreement with rafe. he likes you, or more like he likes to fuck you, so you’ve agreed to a friends with benefit type situation. “theres a new restaurant in town, i was wondering if you wanted to go with me tomorrow?”

you don’t expect rafe to say yes. it goes outside of your agreement that should be simple, but the feelings have over complicated it.

“oh.” rafe is taken aback back the question. “sure.” it’s not the answer you’re hoping for, but it’s a yes, “is it fancy? should i wear a suit?”

“no,” you shake your head and let out a little laugh, “i think just jeans and a nice shirt would be good. i’m just wearing a sundress.”

“a sundress?” that perks rafe up. 

you laugh, knowing how much he likes you in that style of dress.

“mhm.” you nod. “pick me up at 7 then?”

“oh, i have to drive?” rafe jokes, knowing while you have a drivers license, you almost never drive. you don’t have your own car, and whenever you and rafe hook up, he always picks you up and drives you back to your house.

you giggle, kissing rafe on the cheek. “i’m gonna head home, see you tomorrow though.”

you’re surprised that rafe doesn’t say anything about you not hooking up that night. he gives a playful slap on the ass as you walk away, sharing your sentiments about seeing you tomorrow. usually every time you’re at a party together you’ll hook up. you’re happy and satisfied immediately, of course, but after you are just left feeling empty inside, wishing you could be something more.

--

you spend hours getting ready, way more than you usually do for a night with rafe, hoping this time it really is different. your hair is curled perfectly, makeup applied without a flaw (at least there better not be, you washed it all off and reapplied twice because your foundation wasn’t sitting right), and your dress was picked out especially to appeal to rafe.

theres a knock on your apartment door and you hurry to answer it, taking a deep breath before swinging the door open.

“hey!” you try to act casual but you know the excitement on your face is evident.

“hi- wow.” rafes eyes widen. “you look gorgeous.”

“why thank you.”

“these… are for you.” he says it like it’s almost a question, holding up a bouquet of flowers. 

“you got me flowers?” you don’t mean to sound so rude, but you’re in shock.

“i… i asked sarah for dating advice.” rafe shrugs, “she said to get you flowers, and um, i guessed that you’d like peonies.”

“they’re my favorite.” you say honestly, taking the bouquet from him and giving them a sniff. “come in while i put them in a vase.”

you lead rafe in, heading towards your kitchen. “did you really ask sarah for advice?” you ask, going to get a vase down for a cabinet, but rafe stops you, getting it for you so you don’t have to reach so high and get on your tiptoes for it.

“i um… i’ve never really been on a serious date before.” rafe admits. “and i really like you.”

“you do?” you turn to face him, setting the vase down.

“i don’t just hook up with a girl i don’t like for a year.” rafe scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the countertop.

“i guess, but i kinda figured… nevermind.” you shake your head, picking up the vase and filling it under the sink.

“no, tell me.” rafe says, helping you unwrap the bouquet and place the individual peonies in the water.

“i just thought that’s all you were interested in me for, you know, hooking up.” 

“maybe at first, before i got to know you. to be honest, i was feeling… unsatisfied. oh- not, not with the sex.” rafe assures you. “ just with the whole arrangement.” rafe chuckles. “i guess i fell for you at some point.”

you turn towards him now that all the flowers are in the vase. “i can’t believe your saying this.” “why?” “you’re just so… you. you’re being all soft right now.”

rafe laughs, placing his hands on your waist and pulls you in close. “don’t tell anyone about that, by the way. can’t ruin my tough guy reputation.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” you laugh, giving rafe a peck on the lips. 

“ready to go to the restaurant?” rafe questions. “i don’t want my girl going hungry.”

it’s the first time that rafe has referred to you as his girl, and you know he doesn’t miss the blush on your face as he leads you out to his truck, helping you in the passenger seat.

“check your makeup.” rafe says as he gets into the drivers side.

“what?” you ask, wondering if something was wrong, like if your lipstick was smudged, or mascara was running. you fold down the visor to reveal not just the mirror, but your name in diamond letters along the bottom.

“rafe!” you scream, looking over at him, noting the smug look on his face.

“it’s not like anyone uses it but you.” he shrugs.

“i- i fucking love it, i don’t know what to say.” you lean over and give him a big kiss.

“you’re officially my passenger princess now.”

[ioniansunsets]

i discovered your blog today and i have a scenario in mind that i have to share with you!

could you write a Heartsteel!Kayn request with K/DA!reader? — headcanons, fic or even the two of them talking on discord; it could be anything! — if you want to ignore it, i will understand, dear.

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn with K/DA!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.1k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: I'm also going with headcanon of the idol thing where they try not to get caught in public together to avoid gossip but people somehow ship you guys and speculate anyway teehee ITS CUTE!!!!! I'm also pretending you guys got together after he joined Heartsteel so its after he got removed from his old band.also PARANOIA DROP IN 10 HOURS LETS GO TEAM!!!!!!!! I LOVE HEARTSTEEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

----

xxxx On Tour xxxx

-  It sucked so bad! It was touring season and the both of you guys were busy. All your time together were quick video calls over Discord and sporadic updates via message. It wasn't a secret to your bandmates at least so your respective bands did try their best to give you space. Quiet moments in dressing rooms to call each other were now your small moments of peace between practice sets and live shows.

- Somehow still finding ways to love each other apart. Kayn getting Akali to buy you some chocolates from him. You pleading Alune to help you send Kayn some flowers after his show. (She's a sucker for romance so she lovingly helps you.) Or the way he would spend money getting someone to deliver dinner to you after a long show.

- If only one of you guys are touring, the other totally pays and watches all the livestreams and tries to pop by to shows! You're performing 3h from him? He's begging your manager to let him drop by. Waiting for you backstage to congratulate you on your hard work.

- If you're the one waiting for Kayn backstage he always visibly lights up. He tries to look cool and badass on stage but when its after a good show, seeing you wave at him in the halls, his heart soars! He runs over, pulling you in for a tight hug. " Did you hear me! I was good today wasn't I!" He'd smile proud, giving you a kiss as he fishes for compliments. There is no approval he craves more than your own.

- The other boys are surprisingly nice about it, no one really makes fun of Kayn for being so excited to see you (other than Ezreal). They treat you as one of the band, giving you VIP passes to pop by their shows. And you do the same for them! When possible you slip their manager some VIP tickets to your show for them to sneak in. A mutual understanding from both groups to protect you and Kayn from media.

- Pre-debut Heartsteel, Kayn has also went to almost all your shows, front row every time and surprisingly he always tries to match you hair color for the tour. You have bright blue for tour? So does he. Its blonde now? He's the same. Kayn just thinks its kinda cute to safely match with you in someway shape or form, it is just a small thing that paparazzi wouldn't pick up on so easily since so many other fans do it too.

xxxx Off Stage xxxx

- A supportive power couple, you two help each other out with band activities off stage. You aid him when he practices singing. Kayn giving you tips on how to get keep a good rhythm in your verses, and is also a personal cheerleader for dance practices. You'd help him get connections to other companies that K/DA has collabed with, trying to help Heartsteel succeed! Kayn helps out in his own ways too, sometimes playing tunes in his room for you to sing to. It is all really sweet.

- When he drops by your studio its adorable, it was before Heartsteel's debut and shortly after the peak of KD/A's release. Kayn trying to hide from paparazzi for your sake as he sneaks in through the back. Always in a different cap and sunglasses that he stole from Ezreal, he would wait in the practice room, sitting in a corner and cheering whenever you successfully get a dance move down. The other members don't seem to mind him much, he's now a common presence in the studio. The other girls seem fond of him, happy that you have someone so supportive by your side.

- You try to do the same between your busy training schedule too. Dropping by Kayn's place during band practice evenings, Yone always being the one to let you in since Kayn always sleeps in late. You'd bring snacks and a discerning ear. Your feedback being super useful as you're one of the few people Kayn actually listens to. What Aphelios or Sett say would take multiple attempts and a lot of effort to get through to Kayn, as such, the rest of the gang keep trying to get you to push him to not try to squeeze a "totally sick line" into the rap bridge.

- He doesn't show it off but Kayn has all your merch, you offer to give it to him but he refuses, something about manly pride and supporting his partner, he will spend his own money and time fighting with other fans to buy your merch. A lightstick by his bed, your album on his shelf. A limited edition photocard safely stacked in a top loader on his table (he doesn't have a wallet or else he would totally bring it around.)

- You do the same for him, as one of Heartsteel's first fans you own some of their original merch, simple tees with just their logo, a average blank CD with " Paranoia KAYN MIX" scrawled on in messy marker, they are all your treasured possessions. Kayn even let you keep some of his guitar picks, you have one with a hole punched in as a necklace that you wear when apart from him. Your one secret? You have CDs from when he was in his old band, only the album that he was included in of course, but you don't bring up how you were secretly a fan from his early career. - Sometimes you guys try to go out on dates, risky but fun! 3am walks at the beach, alone together as he plays the acoustic guitar for you by the waves as you sing. Expensive private room dinners at secluded restaurants, walking in, both of you with your hair temporarily dyed black with hair spray dye to try and avoid attention. Small things. Fun things. - It was a little embarrassing when rumors first circulated. Fans somehow finding it cute that Heartsteel can be seen at your shows or how sometimes K/DA gets spotted backstage at Heartsteel concerts. They started to ship members together and when a photo of Kayn looking at you with a soft loving smile was snapped, the internet went wild! *Isn't it cute how they can get Kayn to smile that way!* *Ah! It should be me I want to be them so bad!!!!* Kayn would never admit it to you but he likes all the TikTok video edits of the two of you together, he thinks its really cute unironically.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

[stylesharrys]

Mr Romantic [Fratrry]

Harry's never been a romantic, but if there's one thing he's good at, it's sex.

A/N: umm it's been a hot fucking minute since I last wrote anything remotely smutty, and I've really been in my smutty daze feels so I'm hoping to pump out as much stuff for you guys as possible bc pregnancy hormones are crazy and idk when I'll next get a smutty surge hahaha. anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; fingering, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex.

WC: 2.2k

//

Nothing is ever innocent with Harry, you should’ve learnt your lesson by now. He never just comes over to help you study, or watch a movie. So why did you think tonight would be any different?

Maybe you just hoped your boyfriend would be a little more spontaneous in the romantic sense. Because he is spontaneous, absolutely. But you’re not sure Harry has a single romantic bone in his body.

And if he does, he doesn’t seem to have any need nor want to show it.

You don’t want to complain about him, not in the slightest — because he does make you happy, and you do love him with every ounce of your being.

It’s just sometimes, you’d appreciate the little things. Like a kiss to your knuckles, or a random bunch of flowers. You get the pet names; baby, darling, love — but that’s as far as endearment goes with Harry.

Maybe it’s just a phase, you find yourself wondering most of the time. Perhaps he’s just in that horny, frat boy era and the second university is over, that’s when the romance will start.

If you’re honest, you’re kind of hoping so. You don’t need romance, your relationship is passionate enough without it, but God, a little would be nice.

So really, in hindsight, you shouldn't have expected some cute date when Harry told you he was picking you up this evening for pizza and a late night drive.

You got your pizza (Harry’s treat), before piling back up in his car for a late night drive.

You can’t lie, late drives with Harry are one of your favourite things to do together. Windows down, blaring music. And maybe you were a little harsh earlier.

There’s been a couple instances where a drive has turned into parking at the peak of a hill, the pair of you laid across the bonnet trying to count all the stars you could see above you.

That’s not what tonight was supposed to be, because the drive lasted fifteen minutes before Harry stuck his hand down your knickers and his tongue in your mouth.

But you’ll never complain about that.

He’s gentle in the most feverish way possible. He needs you, wants you, craves you—but his touch is soft and tender, each caress bringing another surge of warmth to the surface of your skin.

The windows are foggy, though you haven’t opened your eyes in a while. Harry’s got his mouth enveloped over your pearled nipple, suckling and nibbling oh so gently.

One hand is stuffed in your knickers, the other around your throat. Your seat’s been reclined all the way back, your body completely horizontal as he hovers over you.

You never want to open your eyes, not even to take a peek. You’re too in awe of the way he makes you feel - even with the gentlest of touches.

His fingers toy with your clit, rubbing in such tight circles it feels more like a side-to-side movement. But it’s what you love and Harry knows it.

He’s always known how to get you there; when to push, when to pull. Your body relaxes completely when he has his way – no part of you has ever doubted his touch, never will.

“I wanna touch you,” you pant.

Your hips are rolling against his hand, back arching ever so slightly when he bites a little harder than before. Harry pecks your perked nipple, doting kisses across your chest and neck until his lips are level with your ear.

“I don’t remember telling you to speak.”

Oh. We’re playing like that tonight.

You purse your lips shut tight, knowing exactly what Harry wants from this. A smirk graces his stupidly handsome face as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“That’s a good girl. Keep your mouth closed and let Daddy get to work.”

You can feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, feel the hairs on your body stand on end, feel the gush of arousal seep from your cunt.

Harry lets his hand dip further into your knickers, the tip of his middle finger swiping at the throbbing entrance of your pussy. You’re soaking wet, a little plump with anticipation.

He teases your hole for a few moments, tauntingly dipping a finger to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. It’s an agonising game he likes to play – to see how long until you’re begging for something more, for anything.

Last time, it ended in you sobbing for his cock, you wouldn’t stop until it was shoved down your throat. Such a naughty girl. Harry’s cock leaps at the memory, but that’s not how tonight is going to go.

Maybe if you’re good, you can have his cock when you get home. Maybe he’ll let you suck him to sleep, only if you’re lucky. For now, though, he’s too fucking horny for the foreplay.

Harry crawls down your body, reaching under the seat to push it back as far as it goes, and he settles in the foot space below.

Pulling your underwear down your legs, Harry props your thighs so they rest over his shoulders, leaving him with a faceful of your glistening cunt. His mouth salivates, eyes dark and hooded.

The smell of your arousal alone is enough to send Harry into a state of euphoric bliss, so it’s no shock to you when he very quickly buries his face between your thighs and laps up your cunt.

His tongue is warm and skilled, flat as he runs a stripe from your leaking hole to your throbbing clit, then wraps his lips around your nub, suckling and flicking as your back arches.

You know how this goes – keep your eyes closed and hands to yourself. And most importantly, keep that pretty little mouth shut.

“Such a sweet fucking cunt, baby.”

You jut your hips into his face, grinding against his tongue and he drags it back to your hole. It’s pure ecstasy, complete and utter bliss.

Harry reaches for your hands, guides them to your chest. You waste no time in grabbing your tits, pinching nipples between fingers the way Harry would.

He lets his hands snake back down to your hips, holding you in place with one as the other sneaks between your thighs. Harry spits your arousal back over your hole, his finger spreading it across your pussy and taunting your entrance.

A sweet gasp slips past your lips at the sensation–the feel of him circling your cunt and easing his thick digit in. One knuckle… two… he curls his finger as he eases into the third and your back arches.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, darling.”

The praises feel like clouds surrounding you, making you feel light and airy. You love nothing more than hearing Harry tell you how good you’ve been. And Harry loves nothing more than telling you, watching you buck and squeak in response.

He’s quick to put his lips back on your clit, slurping and flicking with his skilled tongue. There’s something so filthy about doing this in the car, parked in a ditch at the side of the road.

Anyone could catch you, anyone could drive past and see. Neither of you give a shit. He’s too busy burying his face in your cunt and you’re too busy trying to keep your breathing regulated.

His tongue works meticulously, swiping and folding at every tender point he knows. Your legs are starting to shake, knees folding in and smacking against the back of his head but he doesn’t care.

Harry will welcome any pain if it comes with your pleasure. That’s how he’s always been. If you’re not crushing his skull, he’s not doing a good enough job.

He doesn’t need verbal reassurance. He has no doubts he makes you feel like an angel. Watching you react, the way your body folds and coils, the limp noises that escape your pretty lips, it feeds Harry.

It’s not long before your entire body begins to twitch; involuntarily jerking at every suck, every curve of his finger. Harry works your G-spot until you’re seeing stars behind closed eyes, until your jaw is slack and strangled, wanton moans break through the silence.

It’s music to his fucking ears, everything he’s ever wanted to hear and more. If he could, he’d catch your cries on tape, have them replayed in his headphones all hours of the day.

He lets you get closer and closer–teetering you to the edge until you’re fucking desperate. Harry’s rock hard in his pants, can actually feel the precum beginning to seep out of his cock.

Now, he’s never been a selfish lover (in or out of bed), but right now, he doesn’t want to let you finish – he wants to see you beg and cry and shove his thick length in your tiny little cunt.

He wants to stretch you out with no warning, fuck you into that damn seat until you’re desperately holding onto something, anything. In Harry’s mind, there’s nothing more pressing, more desirable than that.

So he pulls away the second you’re about to burst. You’re far too dazed and confused to fully realise what he’s just done; that he’s actually stopped you from reaching your high.

And it’s only when your eyes finally start to flutter open that you notice what he’s doing. How his joggers are pulled down mid-thigh and his bright red cock is heavy in his hand.

You blink a couple of times, clearing your distorted vision. His length is angry, desperate for touch as his top stays an agonising shade of purple.

You start to reach closer, to touch him, kiss him, make him feel as good as he’s made you – but Harry swats your hand away and pushes on your chest so you’re laid back in the seat.

You watch him with eager eyes, the way he smears his full cock across your cunt, soaking in the juices you’ve left and the mess he’s made of you. His tip pushes at your clit, a shock of bliss coursing through your body.

“You’re gonna take this cock like the good girl you are, okay?”

You nod pathetically, rolling your hips to meet his. Harry slaps his length against your pussy, allowing you to feel the sheer weight of it before he lines himself up with your weeping hole.

With a slap to your thigh, he pushes forward, slowly – until you’re accustomed to the size. His balls gently knock at your ass, the short hairs on his pubic bone tickling at your clit and you gnaw down on your bottom lip.

He finds a slow rhythm, eyes locked on where your bodies intertwine. Each time he pulls out, he’s shinier than before, soaking in your arousal and it only makes him harder.

Both hands find homage to your hips, fingers marking the skin as he holds a firm grip.

It’s merely seconds before Harry picks up his pace and starts to fuck into you, each thrust more forceful than the last. Your cunt begins to tighten around him; pulsing and twitching in excitement.

Harry struggles to keep quiet, grunting between heavy pants as he reaches for your clit. He begins to rub, gently flicking from side to side in effort to get you to where you were before.

And it works, like fucking magic.

You’re gripping your tits and biting down on your tongue to keep you from screaming, your eyes rolled so far back you’re not sure you’ll see straight for days. And when he pinches your clit, giving it a little twist, it’s like your entire world implodes.

Harry fucks you through it; rougher, harder. Even with him stuffing your cunt, arousal still manages to seep through the sides of his cock, slipping down your ass and dripping onto his seat.

He doesn’t give a shit, not in the slightest. Harry’s mesmerised by the way your body falls limp and you struggle to catch your breath. He feels his own release catching up with him at the sight of your fucked out face and pretty, pearled nipples.

“Daddy’s good girl. My good fucking girl.”

Your body quakes, a second, all-consuming orgasm creeping up on you. There’s no stopping it, not as he hits all the right places, and just as you cum all over him, he shoots his load into you.

Harry can’t stop the uncontrollable moans that tear through his throat, the need and exhaustion peeling off him. He keeps his movements slow and steady, using your hole to milk himself dry, watching your chest rapidly rise and fall.

“Holy shit,” he croaks, running a hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

You admire him for a second, needing a moment to come to your senses. You were right, the windows are fogged, nearly dripping with condensation, actually. You giggle to yourself, offering Harry a shy smile and he grins.

“Shall we go back to your dorm and finish the last two episodes of Lucifer?”

Harry asks the question like he isn’t still rock hard and buried in your cunt. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips but you nod, nonetheless, amused and somewhat impressed by the duality of this man.

You suppose that while Harry isn’t necessarily a romantic, he knows what you like and still caters to your every need. And if fucking you in the middle of nowhere and then offering cuddles and a tv show after is as close to romantic as you’re gonna get, you’ll take it.

[ghostofhyuck]

His Car isn't Yours

He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date. 

Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him. 

Word count: 2.5k 

Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)

Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous. 

“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone. 

“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?” 

You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly. 

“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”

Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad. 

“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked. 

“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.” 

“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”

Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.

It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance. 

But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it. 

It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention. 

“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.” 

You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end. 

That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend. 

“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”

You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”

“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place. 

“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend. 

“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone. 

You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives. 

You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile. 

“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”

Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.

“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.” 

Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”

You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils. 

Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his. 

“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo. 

“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song. 

Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note. 

“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he teased. 

“Any hint at least?” 

Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”

You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex. 

You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic. 

Hopefully. 

But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going. 

“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you. 

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”

“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”

The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number. 

You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises. 

After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there. 

“How did you know about this place?” you asked. 

“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”

You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.” 

Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”

As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant. 

Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke. 

“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile. 

You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”

As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.

You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind. 

Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you. 

“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.

You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.

It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song. 

You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation. 

After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it. 

“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.

“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.

“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”

“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh. 

As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window. 

Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you. 

And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment. 

“You okay?” Mark asked. 

That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”

“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”

Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you. 

Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart. 

“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…” 

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so. 

But a part of you wants to be frank with him too. 

“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”

“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”

There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say. 

“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.” 

“No, oh my god. It’s just —-” 

“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.” 

You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.” 

“I’m glad you did.”

You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you. 

But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his. 

Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV see here.

[glitterjay]

ー picnic date

minors dni

jake x fem!reader

warnings public sex, pet names, fingering (reader receiving)

for @magyuhye <3

you were in your room, looking at your self in the full sized mirror in front of you. your boyfriend jaeyun had proposed a picnic date, and asked you to wear the prettiest dress you could find in your closet. you stood there admiring the flower pattern that went perfectly with the nice weather, and how it revealed just enough skin.

without thinking too much, you got yourself a nice water bottle downstairs, and waited for your boyfriend to arrive. soon enough, you heard keys jingling right outside your door. you boyfriend revealed himself as soon as the door opened, showing you that peculiar smile that accompanied him all the time. “you ready?”

on the way to the park, jake kept repeating just how amazing you looked, and how you were all his. the compliments never failed to make you feel extremely pretty, and also make your heat throb. your hand rested in the gear stick with his hand right on top. you loved that no matter what, jaeyun always kept contact.

~

you guys arrived at the beautiful park and settled down. the colors of the wonderful green grass and the tall trees went perfectly with the colors of your dress. jake sat himself right next to you, hand on your thighs at all times. you both giggled at random things, and admired the view before you.

as you watched some kids the birds eating a few feet away from where you were sitting, you felt something move under your dress. you looked down and realized your boyfriend’s hand was moving dangerously close to your heat, which was not a good sign considering you missed him. a lot.

“whats wrong, love?” jake asked, knowing exactly what he was doing. you simply shook your head, afraid your voice would betray you and crack if you spoke. he smiled at your actions, moving his hand in a blunt movement, making contact with your core. you couldn’t help but squirm a little, putting a hand over your mouth to stop any noise from being too loud.

this gave jaeyun the queue to slide your underwear to the side, caressing your folds with his finger. he covered your legs with another blanket he had brought in advance, this being his plan all along. “your legs must be cold, am i right? the breeze is a little chilly today” he pushed just the tip of his slender finger into you, teasing. he leaned in, nibbling your earlobe before speaking again “you look so pretty when you’re embarrassed”

you could feel your face turn even redder than it already was. you held onto his shoulder, hiding your face there. “j-jaeyun, don’t do this to me”. he giggled at your words, carefully inserting his full digit slowly into you. this made you bite his shoulder in response, scared of being way too loud and getting caught. “careful there, darling.”

he continued moving his finger, picking up the pace with every thrust. your entire world felt dizzy. you didnt know if the birds in your field of vision were real or part of your imagination. jake cooed at your fucked out expression. he decided to be a little bold, and with a smooth movement, he was hovering over you. with this new position, he was more free, and so, he added another finger.

you bit your lip, reminding yourself that you’re still in a public place. to some people, it might’ve looked like you both were playing. little did they know you were about to come undone right there and then.

“can- can’t hold it anymore”

your boyfriend smiled big, knowing damn well he was the one doing all of that. he wanted to take the blanket off of you, he wanted you to cry and scream his name at the fop of your lungs, he wanted everyone to know HE was the cause of such pleasure, but he held himself.

“go ahead, love. cum for me”

the pet name was enough to throw you over the edge, hand flying to your mouth to muffle your moans and cries. body left shaking at the adrenaline, embarrassment, and pleasure you felt at the same time. he left a kiss on your forehead, sitting straight on your side again, leaving you laying on your back. “fuck baby, we might have to go home soon and deal with this other problem.”

© glitterjay | tumblr

hello! one of two things here. first of all, i know today is october 2nd. i missed the first day, so i will be posting twice today. second, i suck at writing long scenarios so i apologize for that. if yall do like it tho, feel free to request more scenarios for other enha members (besides ni-ki and sunoo) in my ask! help this poor soul, i won’t be able to come up with things all on my own for the whole month

[shuaraes]

i should’ve never let you go | x.mh

- To him, love can only mean you

oneshot | 2.5k | exes! au | angst | comfort

after laying out his raw heart for you on voicemail, one part of xu minghao never expects to hear from you again. this is until you text him back asking him to meet you for the first time in over a year. with your text, minghao knows he can’t let you slip away the way he did before.

sequel to we shouldn’t have ended like this

~ pairing . xu minghao x gn!reader

~ content . exes to lovers au!, non idol au!, minghao’s a lover boy, quite cheesy at the end, can be read as a standalone fic but some minor references won’t be picked up on

~ tw/cw . suggestive, mentions of alcohol, minghao’s a bit of a dick to everyone but his s/o

~ song rec . blue jeans - lana del rey

~ author’s note . here it is, the much requested pt.2 !! thank you all for loving pt.1 so much ~~

(taglist at the end)

THE PARK BENCH IS ICE AGAINST MINGHAO’S BLUE JEANS.

His hands are tightly clasped around a medium-sized bouquet, a pink bow ribbon tying everything together. Minghao doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, just knows that carnations are your favourites. Even though there’s a slight chill in the air, Minghao is dressed nicely; short-sleeved polo rolled up to show his arms. He thought he might as well make a decent effort: after all, he’s seeing you for the first time in a year.

Soulmates used to be a concept foreign to Minghao, so foreign when his friend Jun often blabbed on about finding his ‘one true love’ - he could only scoff. Then he thought about what love meant to him. Watching all his friends fall in and out of it faster than he could blink, love didn’t mean much. Yes, he had been ‘in love’ but it had never consumed him, never broken him apart to the point he questioned his purpose of living.

Until you whispered those three words into his ear (it was early morning and you were tangled in his sheets, the linen covering your bare upper body, your eyes were barely opened but your smile was so bright, your fingertips and kisses painted his neck like a canvas. He had never seen such an angelic sight) and it all finally clicked. If this was what love felt like, then he had loved you since he first saw you.

Being in love meant loving you. To him, now love can only mean you.

Honestly, Minghao wasn’t expecting a response from you. It was three am when he sent the voicemail and after so long with no contact, you had probably moved on and found someone else. Living your life without thinking about him, is a privilege Minghao could only wish for. You were in his dreams, in his walls, staring at him in his bathroom mirror.

Although he did miss you terribly, a part of him sent a message because he wanted closure. He wanted to know you didn’t want him anymore. Maybe with your deafening silence, he could move on - live a life with you (an empty promise to himself, like a single coin in a fountain). But you didn’t.

A week after that night, Minghao received a text from your number.

It was early afternoon and Minghao was only half occupied with the tasks of the day, his head everywhere but the present. After sending that voicemail, he couldn’t seem to focus. A string of ‘what ifs’ kept constantly replaying in his head like a strip of film. At a point, he even contemplated throwing away your slippers. But as he saw them by the heater neatly lined next up to his - something deep from within him forced his whole body to stop. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Throwing away your slippers would mean giving up on you. Quitting had not got Minghao very far in life.

A notification popped up when he was scrolling mindlessly that day - he was about to swipe up. But when he saw your contact name (it’s ‘sweetheart’, he hasn’t changed it since the day he told you he loved you, the contact name even outliving your relationship), his phone almost dropped out of his hand and onto his face.

Sweetheart: How much did you drink?

Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a drunken mistake. That he wouldn’t have said what he said without the removed inhibitions from several bottles of wine. He meant every single word he said

Minghao: I’ve never been more sober in my life.

His fingers paused at his keyboard, wanting to say so much more. He wanted to tell you once again how he couldn’t live without you, how you were even more important to him than the oxygen that fills his lungs. But he settled with simple formalities instead.

Minghao: How are you?

Sweetheart: Stop pretending that you care.

Minghao could feel his entire heart shatter in his chest, had you not listened to the voicemail or even worse did you not believe him? Did you not believe his love for you? Again, you were slipping away from him right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t let you go.

Minghao: Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I care about you more than I care for myself.

Sweetheart: Meet me in the park at 2pm and prove it then.

That’s how Minghao finds himself in his local park. Coincidentally, where you both had your first date (now several years ago, he placed a pink carnation behind your ear and when he looked into your eyes, he knew you were going to be different from the others). His heart is threatening to fall out of his chest with the way it’s beating so fast. What is he supposed to say to you? What apology on earth can he give you to make up for his past actions?

The past is in the past but Minghao needs you in his future.

As if you were the grand prize in this game we call life, Minghao is a debtor using up his final pennies. He can’t afford to lose you. The universe doesn’t grant second chances easily and Minghao wasn’t a fool to let you go again.

Your relationship was the furthest thing from perfect, but your flaws matched each other in a way Minghao could never fully grasp. End pieces in a jigsaw, rose quartz and serenity in an evening sky, the rays of the sun and the glow of the moon. You were far from perfect but you were more than close enough for Minghao. He was obsessed with you and still is.

He hears the light patter of feet against the cobbled pavement. The sound gets louder and louder until it stops. Minghao looks up from his fiddling fingers, expecting it to be some dog walker whose pet doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. But then he feels a familiar tap on his shoulder, there’s only one person in this world whose touch is as light as a feather.

When he sees you, his whole world ceases to exist. It is only you that remains. For a year he wanted, craved for this moment. You were his messiah, all he wanted to do was worship you until his throat was hoarse and lips parched. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Only you could save him, only you could fix him. He quickly stands up to look at you. He thinks if you touch him his legs would give in and he would fall to the floor. Your presence is overwhelming, you’re taking over his sensing and clouding his thoughts.

All of his words are caught in the base of his throat, there is so much he wants to tell you - but as he tries to speak only silence escapes from his parted pink lips.

You look slightly different, something Minghao couldn’t quite put his finger on. In front of him, you are a paradigm of blues, yellows and reds: the centrepiece in an art gallery, Micheal Angelo’s greatest creation.

“These are for me?” You ask cautiously, breaking the seemingly infinite silence.

You were so surprised to hear from him after you had assumed he had fallen out of love with you months ago. You want to make sure, that you haven’t gone mad, that the love of your life is really standing in front of you.

“Of course they are,” He hands you the flowers and watches your face light up when you realise that he remembered.

“You remembered…” You say smiling, looking down and twirling the pink stain ribbon between your fingers. ‘Of course’ Minghao thinks - of course, he’d never forget. He wants to reply but he’s too captivated with your beauty to think straight.

Still lost in thought, you continue, “Where did all the time go… Back then we were so young, so naive, so… So…” You struggle to find the right words to say.

“So stupid.” Minghao’s words are breathless as you meet his ever-so-loving gaze. For the whole of your relationship, Minghao had never been the one to open up to faults - you as well. The feeling of being so naked and vulnerable is foreign to him. But he relishes in the freedom of the truth, his pride no longer holding him down in chains.

He thinks he loves you more than anyone in human history has loved before.

“I meant everything, I said in that voicemail. You were right ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this’, yet I let it happen. I made you doubt my love but to protect my pride, I just stood there, saying nothing. I thought you grew fed up with our relationship, that I wasn't what you wanted. But then I realised you were pushing me away to protect yourself, just like I did.” Minghao pauses getting slightly emotional.

“Nothing I say or do will ever be enough, I can’t turn back time I know that.

But I never stopped loving you.”

And before he can comprehend, you’re in his arms, head against his chest - your home (his heart). You drop the flowers in your right hand and Minghao circles himself around you, engulfing you in his embrace. You don’t say anything, yet a thousand words fall from your parted lips as you stare into his pools of brown (the same pools you could spread hours, days drowning in, as if fresh air didn’t exist). You smell exactly like he remembered, a mix of woods and flora. You feel like a cup of warm tea after a tiresome day, the silver lining he always looks towards. Minghao thinks there’s nothing in the world as beautiful as you.

“I should’ve never let you go…” The words tumbling out of his lips are a waterfall of emotion. Waves of relief rush over him as he feels himself around you. This is where he is supposed to be. Suddenly, everything in his life is going to be okay.

“I should have never tried to push you away in the first place ” Your hands reach up to stroke the back of his hair and he melts into your touch like butter.

This is where he belongs.

Minghao places a small kiss on the mole you have on your collarbone and it’s almost like the past year didn’t happen (you’re on a date in the city, you’re wearing his favourite dress which shows your shoulders and no matter how hard he tries, Minghao can’t keep his hands off you, pecking and nibbling at the soft skin, even if he didn’t say it much, he was enamoured with you). Minghao doesn’t notice the lingering eyes of passers-by, he even fails to realise the passage of time.

Sadly the world can’t stop for him, no matter how much it feels like it does.

With a loud honk from a car speeding down the other side of the road resonating through his eardrums, Minghao is brought back to reality. Suddenly the light weight in the back of his jeans pocket feels all too heavy and he starts to panic, pushing you away gently. You pout, feeling like you have the wrong idea and Minghao’s expression is immediately sympathetic.

“No baby, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He coos in a tone that had almost become foreign to him.

Never, has he used this tone with any of his hookups, even when they begged to be called sweet names, he couldn’t (looking back on this Minghao feels guilty, but those people weren’t you, they couldn’t ever be you). He’s surprised at how easily those words drift off his tongue after so long. He guesses everything just comes easier with you.

“Remember how I said, we’ll listen to your favourite jazz album while drunk on wine.” He scratches his neck bashfully as you look up to him with wide eyes.

“I may or may not have booked us two tickets to their live show in the area, I just wanted to do something again to show that I care. I know it wouldn’t make up for-"

You silence him with a kiss, and Minghao forgets where he is, what he had just said, the colour of the sky and the feeling of the ground below his feet. hell if you didn't whisper ‘It’s okay Minghao' against his lips, he would have forgotten his own name.

For Minghao, it’s you. It has always been you and it will continue to be you. Maybe until the day he dies, he thinks. But knowing himself, he would probably find a way to love you in the afterlife as well.

You drag Minghao by his arm into his dimly lit flat, lips still perfectly intertwined together like a lock and key. If your kisses are knife wounds, Minghao wouldn’t mind bleeding to death. He can taste the tart fermented grapes on your tongue. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is more intoxicating than the bottle of wine you shared. You mewl pitifully into his mouth, clutching his clothes like a beggar desperate for cash. The sight of you begging for him was probably on par with the sex itself.

The night wasn’t supposed to end like this. Minghao had planned it out perfectly: you were supposed to visit a jazz show featuring your favourite ensemble, then you’d have dinner at a place he’d been meaning to take you for months, then maybe after a glass of red (or two) a taxi would drop you off at your complex where he would kiss you on the check and tell you to sleep well.

You both barely made it to step two.

Minghao pulls you flush against his chest breaking the kiss for air - you don’t seem to care as you turn your attention to his neck. In the morning, Minghao expects to see dots of red-purple bruises lined across the pale skin of his neck like patches of watercolour. The night wasn’t supposed to end like this, but Minghao doesn’t have the strength in him to tell you to stop.

“I wanted to be a gentleman.” He manages to whisper out, his eyes squeezing shut as you move your hands and kisses downwards, “I don’t want you just for your body, you know.”

“I know. I just missed you so much it was driving me crazy.” You say and drag him by the collar. You’re not looking where you’re going, but Minghao trusts you know his place better than you know your own.

Before he can respond, he feels you jerk slightly, almost tripping over your feet. He looks down to watch what caused it and he feels his face light up like a pink neon sign downtown.

“You still have my slippers here.” You say, not like you’re inquiring, but more like a statement. The smile on your face is miles wide when you look up at him. Minghao knows exactly what you’re thinking and because of it, he’s the happiest man who has ever lived.

“I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, I never wanted to let you go in the first place."

taglist - @minhui896 @luvhuihui @porridgesblog @bangantokchy @haocovr @icyminghao

[soullessdianthus]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐨 "𝐑𝐮𝐝𝐲" 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚

A/N: Just some glimpse of life with your husband Rudy. I want to be his little spoon so bad, I'm always cold during the night. (╯▽╰ )

Warnings: nothing just lil' smut at the end (gentle sex, lotus), generally fluff

✧°.  Definitely has a wife younger than him, because only recently he had begun thinking about settling down with someone. I personally believe that it wouldn’t be a person in their early twenties – someone who still studies and goes to parties. That would not feel right to Rudy, as he wants to start a family in the near future.

✧°.  But on the other hand, let’s think about him being with someone much younger, in their early twenties for example – someone more vulnerable and in his opinion naive even to engage with someone like him. Rudy would be probably more protective and dominant in the relationship, trying to keep an eye on you all the time. He would protect his pretty baby girl at all costs. <3

✧°.  He’s an absolute sweetheart and will take great care of you – spoiling his wife with massages, gifts or some romantic dates. He embraces love through the acts of service, quality time and words of affirmation. However, you cannot find a happier man on the planet than Rodolfo, when you wear clothes or jewelry he has picked out for you. 

The bathroom was filled with the scent of your flower body wash as the two of you were sitting in a tub filled with warm water and bubbles. Your back was leaning against Rudy’s chest, sitting between his legs. You had no idea how exactly the two of you managed to squeeze in there.  Rodolfo’s fingers were rubbing the scalp of your head, causing you to keep your eyes closed, taking in the relaxation with your husband. It felt so nice, you almost fell asleep right there in the tub.  ━ Do you feel better, amor? To which you only hummed, drowning in the pleasant feeling spreading through your head that was aching for the whole day. Perhaps it was his magic touch working wonders. 

✧°.  He will show you off each time Alejandro visits him. Rudy encourages you to sit on your husband’s lap and spend some time with his best friend. His hands will hold firmly, but hot harshly onto your thighs or hips – this is how he shows his possessiveness over you. <3

✧°.  Rodolfo is an excellent cook so therefore you often spend time in the kitchen together. Additionally, eating meals with each other is very important to Mr. Parra. I think he really likes to hum while doing house chores.

✧°.  I can see him with a wife that has a feisty temperament that constantly worries about him and sets the ground rules he willingly follows – like eastern europeans, hispanics or latinas. Because our boy Rudy is the calmest man on planet Earth, he could calm you down better than anyone. 

✧°.  If somehow he managed to piss you off, you wouldn’t let him brush it off or keep silent, oh no.

One time when Alejandro came by your house to pick up Rudy, he saw (and heard) the two of you arguing (rather you scolding him loudly), which doesn’t happen often, he was slightly taken aback. A colonel of Los Vaqueros wouldn’t even try getting under your skin. Ever.  ━ Cristo, how do you tame her? She’s a spitfire, hermano. ━ Alejandro asked, when his best friend got in the passenger seat.  ━ In bedroom. When she cools off a little.  Your husband’s reply made Alejandro smirk stupidly, before he shook his head. But Rodolfo was absolutely serious at that moment – he meant it. 

✧°.  Rudy could be a real tease and despite the common misconception about him being almost too soft and cautious during sex – your husband was able to fuck you to sleep or until you were breathless and sweaty underneath him. 

He just returned home from the base. The clock hanging on the living room wall pointed at 1:27 in the morning. Mierda, he was supposed to be back earlier, but the meeting was prolonged.  Rodolfo took off his gray jacket and shoes, before slowly making his way towards your shared bedroom. The room was illuminated only by the night lamp on his side of the bed – you must have left it on for him to find the way to bed. Oh, but you really didn’t have to. He would always find the way back to the love of his life.  You were sleeping peacefully between the sheets, wearing a nightgown he had recently bought you – it was his favorite color. The hem of the dress rolled up over your hip, exposing some flushed skin and underwear.  Rudy knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to, but the mere sight of his beloved, pretty wife splayed like this seemed to be too good to be true. Each time the intimacy felt like it was your first time together, exciting him like a teenage boy in love.  He removed his clothes and kneeled on the mattress beside you. His fingers traced the outline of your arm, ribcage, waistline and then your displayed hip. His thumb and pointing finger slid beneath the elastic of your panties and slowly pulled it upwards, detaching it from your skin. Only when the material got really tight and taunted, he released the band of your underwear. A sudden sting on your skin, caused you to wake up with a loud gasp.  But your husband was right there, leaning above your sleepy form, already placing kisses all over your face, neck and shoulder.  ━ Rudy. ━ You purred through the sleepy haze, slowly turning on your back to face him. ━ Lamento llegar tarde, cariño [sp.: Sorry, I’m late, darling].  His strong hands slipped under your shoulders and lifted you off the mattress. You let him maneuver yourself until he placed you in his lap, sitting in a lotus position.  You wrapped your hands around his neck, thumb caressing his occiput.  ━ I missed you.  ━ I know, I’m sorry, baby. But I’m here now. ━ The sergeant clung to your mouth like a leech and forced his tongue inside. The wet and warm sensation sent an electrifying desire pooled in your stomach. You moaned into his mouth, eagerly rolling your hips against his, searching for some friction. Rodolfo moved your panties to the side, before slowly sinking his hardened length in. A sudden stretch made you whimper and straighten your spine in his hold. Yet, you felt safe, he would never hurt you or cross your boundaries. His hands run up your ribs, until his thumbs could caress the curves of your breasts. Rudy shushed you, before slowly thrusting into you with steady pace. You looked at him through the shaky movements that caused you to rise and fall onto him.  Despite the fastened heartbeat and heavy breathing, an overwhelming sense of home and belonging washed over you. As long as you were in his arms, you were being loved and kept safe.  The arms of your loving husband.