#tipsy don’t judge please

[cutelittlequeerboy]

really feel like we’re (i’m! me!!) missing out on kittensub content

i neeed to be told i’m such a cute pretty little kitten while being fucked or sucking them off. need to be made to purrrr for them cause they think i sound so cute moaning and whining for them 😫😫

OR them playing with my tdick and body until my hands spring onto them tightly like an overstimulated cat, needing a break but unsure if i want them to keep going, breathlessly whining

[nvuy]

doctor, doctor — veritas ratio

summary. you’re the worst person ever, distract him from his work, beat him at chess, and yet doctor ratio still can’t seem to hate your presence as much as he lets on.

notes. “nvuy please update your fics” NO.

my favourite person ever informed me that when owlbert lists all of ratio’s degrees, chemistry is not one of them, so i thought that was funny. but anyway i always lowkey forget ratio exists but then he appears in game and i go Good Lord and then go about my day. that man’s arms do something to me.

warnings. suggestive content, one intense make out session, you’re a freak LMAO, ratio thinks you’re a freak too, this is lowkey crack, i wrote this tipsy, gn reader but you do wear lipgloss.

“Hi, Doctor.”

Veritas’ fingers slid against the screen like nails on a chalkboard. A headache was already starting to form behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut for a moment before he unwillingly opened them again.

“Yes. Good evening to you.”

Keep the pleasantries. Don’t yell. Don’t throw a punch. Don’t slam another book on anyone else’s head.

You sat down in the seat beside him with a purple soda can in your hand. “Whatcha doin’?”

Veritas cleared his throat. “I’m working.” He glanced up at the top of his screen. “And, judging by the time, you should be working as well.”

You weren’t even listening, choosing instead to pick up a stray notebook that he’d left on the desk. The page was filled with scribble and stupid math symbols—actually, that was not scribble. That was just his handwriting.

Gross. You grimaced at the page before you turned it. The next page, and the next, creased and scarred with harsh pen markings, looked undoubtedly the same.

“Work is for losers,” was all you remarked. You obnoxiously sipped at your drink.

Ratio scoffed. “How you even landed a position working for Madame Herta is beyond me. You are clearly a liability.”

You snorted. “I got hired because I’m sexy and smart.” You were picking at your nails, painted a deep purple like his hair. “You’re only here because Miss Asta needed help. After her problem is solved, you can go back to moping about how you don’t have a chemistry degree.”

You watched his jaw visibly tighten. His teeth gnashed together, and you swore you could hear them grinding behind his lips.

“It is a work in progress,” was all he said.

“Yap, yap.” You made a talking gesture with your hands. “I’m the professional here. That’s why Miss Asta made me lead chemist.”

Such a shame your ego overshadowed such a pretty face.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to return to his notebook.

“I want to play chess.”

“I’m busy.”

You blew a raspberry. You punched him playfully in the shoulder. You almost hurt your knuckles bopping his bicep. “You’re just scared you’ll lose.”

His glanced up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack. He raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, as if daring you to repeat yourself.

You only stared at him expectantly.

“One game,” he rushed out, face reddening in frustration. The look he gave you could’ve killed, but you knew him better than that. His strangely jacked physique wasn’t built to maim, and if he wanted to smack you with his tablet, he would’ve done so already. “And if I win, you will leave me alone.”

“Mmm, okay.” You shrugged. “And if I win, I get a kiss.” You tapped your cheek twice.

Veritas reeled back. Then, taken aback, he spluttered, “that’s all?”

You took another sip of your drink.

Then, you blinked. “Yep.”

Ratio, too, reciprocated, blinking wildly as if he hadn’t even processed what had come out of your mouth.

You grinned at him, eyes crinkling below your lashes as he eyed you down like he was viewing a sample through a microscope.

Then, he sighed. “Fine.” He tapped away on his screen. One of his floating gadgets projected a holographic chessboard onto his desk. “I suppose somebody has to dull that ego of yours.”

You leaned back in your seat and waved him off lightly. “You can go first.”

The chessboard flipped, and the white pieces faced him.

*ೃ༄

“Hey, does this thing have speech detection?” You leaned closer to the board. “Knight to B4.”

As expected, the small porcelain knight upon the board moved forward into its newly assigned position.

Ratio scoffed, clearly irritated. His fingers tapped idly against the desk. “You are so frustratingly lazy. It’s a miracle you get your work done, and such a shame it impedes your potential brilliance.”

You only made another talking motion with your hands. As he thought long and hard about his next move, you yawned. He took everything so seriously.

No wonder he was so jacked. He was constantly tense. It probably counted as a workout.

“You think I’m brilliant?” you asked with a smile.

“I think you have selective hearing.” Finally, he moved one of his pieces forward. “But, yes. Miss Asta speaks highly of you.”

“Aww. I’ll give her a smooch later.” That was a relief to hear, actually. Sometimes you worried if she’d boot you out of your position because of your tardiness. It was good that she still wanted you working in the station, despite lagging behind on reports and important meetings.

When you glanced up from the board after telling a pawn to move forward one space, Ratio’s eyes caught yours before he briskly looked down at the hologram once more.

Ratio was trying to read the board. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just what are you doing?”

“Winning.”

“You are not winning.”

“Sure I am.” You leaned back in the seat once more. “Checkmate.”

Veritas’ eyes snapped up to gawp at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Checkmate,” you repeated. “I know I’m distracting. I have that effect on loser nerds with big egos.”

Veritas was staring at the board again. He was trying to piece together your previous moves, as the holographic board began to play in reverse. He was no cheat, no, never, and you didn’t expect him to do it as you were watching either, but it was clear as day.

He lost.

Your tongue carded along the rim of the soda can. “L-O-L.”

“This doesn’t even make sense,” Veritas mumbled, fingers rubbing circles into his temples. “You didn’t even have a plausible strategy.”

“Yeah, I did.” You placed a defensive hand over your heart. “You just don’t know it, because I have such a great poker face.”

“Chess doesn’t warrant a poker face.”

“Well, then, if you’re not willing to know my genius strategy–”

“No.” Veritas glared at you. “You will tell me.”

“Sure. I’m more worried about my reward, though.”

The look he gave you made you howl with laughter. It was a twist of his lips into something unsavoury as if he’d just swallowed a shot of vinegar. His brows knitted together and those unfairly long dark lashes casted a jagged shadow over his cheeks.

The chess board disappeared with a small noise and the screen returned to normal.

You leaned forward, batting your own lashes at him.

Veritas, after displaying a shaky grimace on his lips, met you halfway and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek.

You looked offended when he pulled back.

You whined. “What was that?”

“Your reward,” he argued.

“You just brushed your lips on me. Do you kiss everyone like that?” You were quite literally sulking, more so to get on his nerves.

It was working.

You swore you noticed a vein twinge on his temple. “I don’t just kiss anyone, thank you. Especially not over a game of chess.”

“You’re not getting my genius strategy, then.”

“Fine.”

This time, when his lips went for your cheek again, you turned your head.

Veritas let out an embarrassing noise that you’d never forget.

When he tried to pull away, clearly flustered and radiating so hot you were convinced he’d combust right there in his chair, you locked a hand in his hair.

Flustered for a moment, he then returned your enthusiasm ten fold, large hands curling around your waist and keeping the excited jittering of your legs still.

“Somebody will see,” he mumbled against your lips quietly.

To address his concerns, you dipped down lower in your seat behind the wall of his desk. Anyone that was watching would look away if they knew what was good for them.

Pulling away from his lips proved difficult. You caught the taste of his evening coffee, as well as the scent of cashmeran, and something that smelled faintly of chestnut and the smoky smell of a nice warm fireplace.

“You smell nice,” you whispered. Your voice was slightly hoarse. “What’re you wearing?”

The grin you had stretched on your face said it all.

Veritas snarled against your lips. “A physics degree.”

His lips hit your teeth when you grinned. “Can’t taste better than a chemistry degree.”

“You are horrible.”

Your hand crept along the waistband of his pants, feeling along the ribbons and the sleek expensive material. It was like cotton, but somehow even softer against your fingers, as if the thread count was bordering on six-hundred.

He reeled back when he finally processed the feeling of your fingertips slipping below his clothes. “Watch yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He made no effort to remove your hands, so a finger then hooked beneath the border of the hole over his chest. “Come ‘ere, Doctor.”

The light in your eyes was almost as intimidating as when you pressed your lips back into his, this time firmer, as if you were trying to mould your skin to his.

His skin was surprisingly warm for how cold he behaved. His scent was addicting. Freshly printed books and a warm winter’s night.

It tore a low and pleasant groan from your throat.

Surprisingly, he did not push away when your lips slipped from his mouth and traced the line of his jaw.

Instead, he sighed defeatedly and angled his jaw for you. You hummed, clearly content.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mused.

“Mhm.” You wondered whether he’d let you suck a bruise beneath his ear. “You’re soft. For a man.”

Veritas scoffed at that. He would insist that you were softer, but he instead bit his tongue. Of course he was soft. He took care of his skin, and he didn’t waste his life away drinking that filth you called soda.

He usually hated that artificial grape flavour, but he supposed the taste of your lips helped quell the awful amount of sugar still resting on your tongue.

He stiffened beneath you. He hadn’t even realised you had crawled into his lap. “Are you leaving marks?”

“Yep.” Your lips had dipped down to the base of his neck to stain the thin stretch of skin there.

“Oh, you–!” His eyes squeezed shut when your teeth carded along his jugular in warning.

The poor man looked two seconds away from a heart attack. His pupils almost turned to slits. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to push you away or draw you closer. It was a mix of heat and blur that made his vision swirl with colour.

He felt unreasonably dizzy. He was grateful he was still sitting at his desk, for he was sure his knees would have given out beneath him otherwise.

Your lips pulled back for a moment. Sticky. He could smell a tinge of kiwi fruit from the gloss smeared over your lips. He was sure it was lathered all over his jaw like thick paste. The remaining hour of his shift would be a mix of rushing the rest of his report, and trying to scrub your makeup from his face.

Part of him wanted the stains to stay there, as unprofessional the thought was.

His silent brooding while your thighs warmed his were interrupted by approaching heels. Black kitten heels, to be exact, with a dark pinkish plum soles. He recognised her footsteps from miles away.

His heart stopped.

“Um… Doctor Ratio? I’m just receiving word that– oh my stars!”

Too late.

Veritas sprang from his seat, shoving you back into your own chair, much to your chagrin. Your hand fell from beneath the material of his shirt.

The damage had already been done, however.

Poor Lead Astronomer Asta stood frozen, face red, holding a clipboard with way too many pink highlighted paragraphs on the paper.

Veritas awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to wipe the sticky gloss off his lips. “The report will be with you in an hour.”

Asta merely blinked at him. Her cheeks were brighter than her hair.

Her eyes then flitted towards you. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

You waved. “Hey, queen.”

Then, she nodded once in a greeting, squeaked an, “okay, thanks,” to the doctor and then rushed away, still hot in the face.

You could see the uneven rise and fall of Veritas’ chest. You were sure his heart was racing beneath his skin; yours was exactly the same, maybe arguably even quicker.

“Terrific.” Veritas turned his head to ridicule you. Scary for a dude with lipgloss smeared all over his face. “You’ve traumatised the poor girl.”

He heard you sigh. “I was just getting started.” You slouched in your chair, defeated. You checked your watch, noticing the giant seven tick over. “I’m hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’s dinner time.” He sat back down in his chair after he was sure he’d cleaned his face of your makeup.

“I was having dinner.” You finished the last of your soda and tapped at the can absentmindedly with your nails. “And was just getting to dessert.”

“You have an awful tongue.” He waved you off with his hands, fed up. “Now, shoo. I’m busy.”

“You’re so boring. What do you do for fun? Read?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself even further. “Don’t answer that.”

Veritas rolled his eyes.

Instead, he chose to ignore you and pull the data back up onto his screen. His handwriting is still the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s almost fascinating watching him write like that.

It’s just a line that only he can understand. Like his own nerd language.

You found it sort of hot.

Your eyes darted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, Doctor… What about–”

His eyes flared, and his grip on his pen grew tighter. He almost split a hole into the paper. "We are not having a rendezvous in the bathroom, nor will I be coming home with you.”

"Aww."

"But, for what's its worth, I commend your bravery in asking such a bizarre thing."

Ooh, praise. Lovely. "Eh." You clicked your tongue and leaned forward to kiss the side of his hair. “Worth a try.”

When you pull away, he does not look up, but his cheeks are tinged a lovely pink.

[a-b-riddle]

Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.

At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.

But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.

Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.

Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.

It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.

And boy, do you.

You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.

Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.

“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”

“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.

“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.

You took a deep breath.

“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.

The mask?

“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”

“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.

Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.

“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”

“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”

He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.

“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.

“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”

“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”

“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.

“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”

He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.

Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.

“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”

Simon rolls his eyes.

Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Quiet Type

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.

I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 5,444

Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.

“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”

It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.

“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”

Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.

“She’s fine, lower your guns.”

Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.

After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.

“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”

Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”

After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.

“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”

Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.

You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

——————

Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.

One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.

“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.

“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.

One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.

“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”

“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.

“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.

“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”

“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”

You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.

——————

One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.

When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.

“So…uh…where you from?”

“You mean recently or before?”

“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”

That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.

“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”

“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”

“Well shit, what a small world.”

You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.

——————

“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”

You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.

“Where’d ya hear that?”

“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.

“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”

Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.

“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.

“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”

“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.

“I just have good people skills.”

——————

Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.

You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.

Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.

——————

You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.

“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.

“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.

“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”

——————

He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.

“I’m…sorry.”

You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”

He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.

“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”

“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”

“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.

“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense.”

You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.

“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”

You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.

“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He waves the apology off and continues.

“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”

You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”

He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.

“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.

You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.

When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.

“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”

Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.

“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”

He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”

You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.

“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”

It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.

“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.

“Can I ask you a question Joel?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.

“Is this a date?”

He chuckles heartily.

“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”

——————

Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.

“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”

He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.

“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”

His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.

“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”

He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.

“I really like you, too.”

You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.

“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”

You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.

“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”

“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”

You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.

“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.

He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.

“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”

He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.

“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.

He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.

“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”

He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.

“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”

He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.

“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.

“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.

“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”

“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”

You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.

“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” you manage to squeak out.

He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.

“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.

“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”

He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.

“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.

“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.

“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”

You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.

“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.

“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.

“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.

“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.

“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.

“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”

“No, rail me. I can take it.”

“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.

“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.

“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.

He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.

“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”

He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.

“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.

“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”

He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.

“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”

With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.

“Holy hell woman. That was…”

“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”

He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.

“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”

“Noted,” he chuckles softly.

“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.

“Of course.”

[haechoxo]

[9:07 pm]

johnny’s “thing” was meant to be a small get-together of sorts, to further celebrate the group being together again after such a long time.

what it was not meant to be, was what felt like a frat party, a rager even. you showed up alone, intending on catching a ride with someone or even spending the night if you drank a little too much, but the party itself was already over the top. a jittery feeling settled in your stomach the further into the house you moved, not a single friend in sight, not even haechan.

you soon found jaemin and jisung tucked away in a corner of the kitchen where the tall glasses of whiskey, wine, and beer were stocked, and decided to stick with them until you were comfortable (tipsy) enough to branch out and find someone else.

“so where’s your boyfriend?” jaemin smirked, but jisung only nudged him a little to lay off.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled against the rim of your cup, sounding more dejected than you anticipated.

“but you still knew who i was talking about, hm?” he egged on. you were about to sass back, but the comment died on your tongue when someone called out to you.

“y/n! what took you so long? everyone’s been here since before the crowd showed up.”

mark.

“just got caught up with extra work is all, but i’m here now,” you said, offering a faint smile before bringing your cup to your lips. it was only now that you noticed a familiar head of dark hair over mark’s shoulder, in the other room. he looked almost… angry, scoffing and turning away.

“well i’ll see you guys around later maybe, gonna go catch up with some more people.” mark’s voice sounded in your ears once again, and all you could do was smile and nod again, the jittery feeling in the pit of your stomach returning.

you weren’t having any of this, as you turned to find as many shots as you could, to soothe the regret filling you for even showing up in the first place.

“you good?” jisung asked, noticing you downing your fourth shot in a minute.

“mhm! yeah totally, totally.” dial it down, crazy.

“maybe take it a little easy... don’t want to wake up shit-faced tomorrow, you have work right?” jaemin murmured, trying to pry the glass from your fingers. you were feeling buzzed already, yet not enough to notice jisung moving over slightly, as if to block your field of vision.

“what are you doing?”

“me? nothing.”

“ji.”

“i’m not doing anything.”

“move, please.”

“i-i’m good though, i like it here, i-it’s a little better, don’t you think?” jisung sounded nervous, more than usual. for what?

gently pushing him aside, and moving over to see what he was blocking, you really wished you’d just let him do as he pleased. the feeling in your stomach was replaced by your heart plummeting there instead.

there was haechan, sitting pretty on an armchair, with an even prettier girl, kim minjeong, hanging off his arm. you saw the way he looked at her, as she looked at him as if he hung the stars. you knew that look.

it was the way he used to look at you, as you looked at him, like he was the star.

“y/n…”

you couldn’t even be bothered to figure out who called your name, “i think i’m gonna go, have work, remember?” you said weakly.

previous - next

a/n ; part three!! (more like a definitive part 2 but its okay) 17 yr old me found the bitterness/angst in part one better than this part but u all can be the judge🧑‍⚖️ again, hope u enjoy! let me know what u think, advice is appreciated!! xoxo jelly

[inbloomwriting]

If I had you II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. Reader thinks it's the easiest thing in the world. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Notes: This is inspired by the song "a daydream away". It's 5.2k words of pure friends-to-lovers sweetness.  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. It’s a chore to love him, the real him not the overly confident golden boy he portrays on the pitch. Just look at his track record, that just proves his point. Sure his mom loves him, he never questioned that, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. He’s convinced he’s made her cry more than once with yet another stupid decision. Then there’s his father who loves nothing more than to belittle him and lay out all his flaws for him and the world to see. And if even your own dad doesn’t love you, how can you expect others to. 

So maybe that’s the reason he doesn’t let anyone close enough to even begin to love him. Sooner or later they’ll figure out how much of an effort it takes and that he, of all people, truly isn’t worth it. 

And maybe, perhaps, that’s also the reason he doesn’t allow himself to explore the feelings he harbors for his best friend. He tried to deny them to himself for so long. Tried to pass it off as pure, unfiltered friendship. That’s bullshit though. He knows the feelings are there and there is no use in denying them. That doesn’t mean he can ever allow himself to act on them though. He’d just fuck it all up, the way he usually does with everything he touches. 

The shiny hardwood floor feels cold and smooth as he sits leaning against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out before him. A smile is permanently etched onto his face as (Y/N) talks about something that happened at her work today. He should listen, it’s probably a fun story judging by the way her giggles make her stop talking every few seconds. He should listen but he is so enamored with her that he can not pay attention to anything else. In a perfect world, in a world where loving him was easy, he’d lean over and kiss her. He'd kiss her silly and she’d kiss him back and life would be sweet and it would make sense. In that perfect world, she would love him back the same way he loves her and it would be easy and he’d deserve her. 

But that is not the world he’s living in. That is not his reality. Just a beautiful daydream he allows himself to escape to every once in a while. Loving her in a daydream is safe. It’s secret and quiet and there is no hurt there and no rejection. 

“Why are you grinning like that, huh Tartt?” 

She asks before taking a sip from the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands. It’s an unusually hot summer’s day. One that makes it impossible to do anything but sit on the floor in as little clothing as possible and drink one cold drink after the other. Even if that means getting a little tipsy on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Nothing. Just happy to have you here. Missed you.”

“We didn’t see each other for a week and you already missed me?”

He misses her the minute she leaves. It’s like his heart isn’t complete if she isn’t there but he can’t really say that can he? Friends don’t tell friends things like that. And a friend is all she is. His best one but still. Telling her any of this could jeopardize their friendship and Jamie doesn’t think he could handle life without her. Not when a week already felt like torture. 

“Well yeah, I’m proper shit at cooking. I need you to feed me.” 

“Oh, is that so? Thought Mr. Bigshot footballer could get free food at any restaurant he fancies.”

She’s teasing but never mean and never hurtful. That’s something he cherishes so much about their friendship. His feelings, his fears — all of it is safe with her. There is no hurt or pain or fear. Just her and her friendship and warmth. And a pair of open arms ready to catch him whenever he stumbles and falls.

“True. But some fancy place in Mayfair will laugh at me if I ask them to make me dino nuggets, won’t they?”

Her laughter, he decides then, is his favorite sound in the world. It makes everything feel alright even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. He needs to keep his feelings locked up in that beautiful daydream because he can never lose this melody her laughter creates. And anyway, he wouldn’t even know what to do if he ever really had her.

— It’s not like she’d say yes anyway.

“You’re probably right about that,” she says and leans her head against his shoulder. And though it’s muggy and hot and he’s sure he can feel their skin stick together, he doesn’t shake her off. She’s part of his heart already, might as well melt into one completely. “You want me to make you some nuggets?” 

“Nah,” Jamie replies and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. Friends kiss friends on the head all the time, everyone knows that. Right? "That's okay. Already had a Kebab with Roy earlier.” 

“You guys are becoming friends then? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose my best friend status?” 

Jamie lets out some mix between a chuckle and a scoff. As if anyone in all the world could ever replace her. What a ridiculous thought. 

“Well he doesn’t make me nuggets, does he? No alphabet soup either. So no. Not yet.” 

The little shake of her fist she does in victory makes him grin even bigger. He must look like a damn fool. 

“I should probably get going sometime soon, I need to finish up some work and do laundry and do all that boring adult stuff that’s waiting for me at home.” 

There are lots of things he should be doing instead of sitting on his kitchen floor on a Tuesday afternoon getting half drunk on cheap beer and half on his overwhelming love for her. He’s sure there are a bunch of texts and emails waiting for him to sort through. Keeley might be popping a blood vessel soon if he doesn’t answer her about that brand requesting to work with him on some ad campaign. And he will get back to her — soon. 

Right now it doesn’t matter. Right now all that matters is him and (Y/N) and their little corner of safety and — home.

“But I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah, me neither. Just want to sit here with you and — “ 

“ — hang out?” 

“Mh. Hang out.” 

That was not what he wanted to say but none of the words ghosting through his head are meant to be spoken out loud. They are his to feel and think and keep hidden and quiet. 

“Good, we can hang out a little longer I think.” 

And he’ll take what he can get. All the precious minutes she grants him he cherishes. 

Right now could last forever and he wouldn’t mind at all.

Not as long as he’s with her.

Some early 00s pop song is blasting from the speakers of the bar. Everyone’s in good spirits and drinks are flowing freely. 

(Y/N) is leaning against the bar talking to Colin, laughing about something he said, radiating joy and happiness. 

She loves his friends, his boys, his family. Jamie loves that she loves them so dearly, so fiercely as if they are her own family. At this point, they might as well be. She remembers all their birthdays, drops by unannounced with cookies for everybody, cheers them on louder than anybody else. Hell, she even gets Roy to smile and that’s quite something. She’s as much a part of the AFC Richmond family as she is a part of his life. 

“Jamie-Jam-Jam what are you sulking over here for,” her voice cuts through the crowd and the music as she slides into the booth next to him. She looks gorgeous in the hazy neon lights. Then again, she always looks gorgeous. 

“Not sulking. Just — thinking.” 

“About what?”

You. He’d say if he was honest and not such a coward. You and how much I adore you and how hard it is not to tell you any of this and fuck up our friendship. 

“Was considering getting me nipples pierced. I’d have to take them out though and I imagine that would be quite annoying.” 

“Probably,” she agrees and nods her head before adding “It would look sick though.” 

“Right? I reckon it would.” 

She laughs at that and once again it shakes his entire world. Like little earthquakes inside his heart. 

Her voice is quieter after her laughter subsides, soft and gentle, and with the loud music it feels like her words are only meant for him. “I like this,” she says almost wistfully.

“The song? Who’s that, Rihanna?” 

“Not the song, silly boy. This — “ she gestures around the room towards all their friends, dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives. And then she motions to the two of them, secluded and safe inside their own little bubble. “escaping our busy lives for a moment.” 

“Lot of journalists would disagree with you there, love. That my life was busy.” 

“They don’t know you like I know you.” 

There’s a sincerity in her eyes, a warmth, something he can’t quite explain. It’s familiar and foreign all at once. 

“No one knows me like you do. You had pity on Jamie Tartt, messy little prick from math class. They just know Jamie Tartt, the footballer from Richmond.Still a prick but now with better hair.” 

Before he knows what’s happening, her hands take hold of his face and gently rest against his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Really look at her.

“I never had pity on you, Jamie. I thought you were funny and exciting and infinitely cool. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. And I was right! About the funny part, not the cool part.” 

“Obviously.” 

“But I never took pity on you. I don’t think you realize how highly I think of you. Now let me get a sip of that drink.” 

He’s still in some sort of haze brought on by her words when a groan coming from her shakes him from his thoughts. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust as she places his glass back on the table. “Ew, what the fuck is that?” 

“I’m not sure, honestly. Barkeeper said she’d mix me a Jamie Tartt and I was like fuck yeah, a drink named after me.”

“It’s disgusting. Did you shag and dump her at some point? Like, is she mad at you for some reason?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman before in my life … so yeah maybe.” 

Shaking her head with a smirk on her face she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him out of the booth and towards the bar on the other side of the place, the one with the older male bartender with the impressive beard.

“You ever had a thing with him?” she asks as she leans against the counter, trying to get the man’s attention.

“Nah, I’d remember that facial hair.” 

From then on the night tastes like tequila and beer and it feels like a warm hug. She doesn’t join in on all his drinks, stops herself after a beer and a shot, but she does join him in all the other shenanigans. Like when they make up ridiculous backstories for strangers and have a laugh about some corporate douchebag trying desperately to get with some woman who clearly has no interest in him. 

“Henry from accounting.”

“Nah, that’s Charlie from HR.” 

“Well, either way, Maisie from South Shields is not interested.” 

He could stay here forever, laugh the night away. Drunk on happiness, on love — and also on quite a lot of booze. 

“Come on, Jamie-Jam, “ she says and hands him his jacket. She’s all gentle hands and gentle eyes. “Let me give you a ride home.” 

“We’re going home?”

“I think it’s time. Think someone had a little too much.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He is but also not. He’s sorry for being a burden — again. He’s not sorry for letting himself enjoy a night of unadulterated happiness with the people that mean the most to him.

“No need to apologize, Jamie. I’m glad you had fun. Now come on, silly boy. I’m tired.”

And when they step out of the place and into the night, all sweaty and hair a mess, he thinks that of all the things his eyes have ever seen, the best by far is her. Then and always. 

London passes by in a blur as (Y/N) drives them towards his house. All the bougie buildings and the iron fences and the trees in the parks, it’s all one kaleidoscope of color, a smudge of light and shadows. 

It’s not like he can really focus on that though. Partly because all he can think of is her and partly because he’s absolutely wasted. Mostly her though. Definitely mostly her.

“Did you have a good time?” his voice slices through the comfortable silence.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you, silly boy. Did you?” 

He rests his cheek against the smooth leather of her car seats and regards her with an infinite sense of wonder and adoration. In any other situation, this position would be deeply uncomfortable but he’s numb to anything but the beating of his heart and the strings that pull him towards his best friend.

“Obviously. Had my best girl with me. “

“Keeley?”

His eyebrows raise in confusion. “Keeley? No you numpty, you!” 

“Me?”

“Why would you think I was talking about Keeley?”

He wishes he could see the look on her face. This is not a car conversation. 

“Uh, she’s the only real adult relationship you ever had and you had a poster of her on your wall. Makes one think things. In fact, I believe that poster is still up.”

Jamie can’t help but scoff at her words. Not in a dismissive way necessarily but this whole conversation seems so silly to him. Yeah, he loved Keeley in a way and yeah she’s still one of his best friends but never has she come close to (Y/N). Keeley hardly ever got to see the real Jamie, the one that didn’t hide behind this larger-than-life footballer persona. (Y/N) met him before that persona even existed.

“Stop thinking things then. You’re my best girl, always.”

He still can’t see her face since she is looking at the road in front of them, but he can see the smile pulling the corner of her lips upwards, and for the moment that’s good enough for him.

Her car comes to a stop in front of Jamie's house but while he drags himself out of his seat, she stays put. 

“What are you doing, love?” 

“Dropping you off?” 

“Are you not coming inside then?” 

“Do you want me to come inside? We spent pretty much all week with each other, I thought you might be sick of me by now.” 

A ridiculous thought if he’s ever heard one. He could never get sick of her. They could be glued to each other for the rest of eternity and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

Even in his drunk state of mind though, he realizes that’s not something he can tell her. That crosses out of friend territory. So he just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Do I want you to come in? What a dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I have a bag of those disgusting spicy crisps waiting for you in my kitchen.”

“In that case —” 

10 minutes later they’re sitting on his couch, her legs across his lap, munching away at those god-awful crisps as some overly dramatic American home renovation show flickers across the TV screen. 

In moments like these, love lives here. In these walls and on this couch. And it’s terrifying because thinking about love also makes him think of the possibility of losing it. But every once in a while, Jamie lets himself feel a tiny bit of it. Just enough to keep him going. 

“Hey Jamie,” she speaks up, her face only illuminated by the light coming from the TV. She’s wearing his shirt and he wills himself not to focus too hard on that because that will cause images to ghosts through his mind that he can’t allow himself to ever think about. Images that cross every line ever drawn when it comes to friendships.

“Yes, love?” 

“You’re my best boy too. Not sure I ever told you.” 

He doesn’t answer, not in words at least. But he squeezes her legs as they rest on him, and he hopes she knows. Oh god if only she knew. 

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. (Y/N) knows he thinks so because he let it slip once or twice when he was drunk and his words were all jumbled and his mind was all hazy. 

And every damn time it breaks her fucking heart. Because loving Jamie Tartt is the easiest thing she ever did. It comes as natural as breathing. It feels like a nice ray of summer sun on her skin, sizzling and exciting and warm.

Loving Jamie is a gift.

Now if only there was a way she could make him realize that. But every time he lets himself be even a little vulnerable he is so quick to cover the cracks with stupid jokes or misplaced arrogance before a real conversation can happen. 

She needs him to realize it though. To understand that loving him isn’t difficult. Because how can you tell someone you love them and make them understand just how much they mean to you when they deem themself unlovable? 

Turning her head to the side she looks at his sleeping face. Somewhere between Fixer Upper and House Hunters, he fell asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He’s snoring something awful but she still thinks he’s adorable. Jamie has a mischievous, lovable quality to him that just makes you open your heart to him whether you want to or not. Yeah, sure, he’s let people down, he’s done shitty things, but he’s trying. He’s learned and he’s changed and the price for being young and stupid and cocky should not be a life spent questioning if you deserve other people’s love. 

Jamie Tartt is not hard to love. But loving him and not being able to tell him because he doesn’t love you in quite the same way, that’s just fucking cruel.

The air is loaded with static. Everyone is on the edge of their seat. (Y/N) is huddled in between Rebecca and Keeley, holding their hands and nervously biting at her lip. Emotions are running high as Richmond is playing Manchester. Correction — they’re not only playing them, they are kicking their asses.

It’s 2-0 for Richmond and they’re already 1 minute into the 3 minutes of additional time. If Manchester doesn’t get a miracle, Richmond wins. The thought of that makes a fluttery feeling spread in (Y/N)’s stomach. If this is how she feels, she can only imagine what Jamie must feel like. 

1:30

2 minutes

2:30

3 minutes.

“Blow the whistle. Come on. Blow the fucking whistle.” 

And as if he heard her pleading, the referee blows the whistle giving Richmond their win. 

Laughter and cheers and songs fill the air as every Richmond fan is on their feet celebrating a win they so desperately wanted and that the team fought so hard for.

The win Jamie fought so hard for. 

She tries to find him across the pitch but there are too many people, hugging and celebrating, too much noise. She just hopes he knows how proud she is.

And she hopes that somewhere out there his dad is watching. Sees him win, with the team he doesn’t approve of. Watches him succeed and be the man he never was and never will be.

She hopes somewhere deep in the inky black pit that is his heart, he finds a glimmer of pride for his only son, even if it comes entirely belated.

Jamie has won quite a few matches by now and it’s always a great feeling but some wins stand out. This is one of them.

His heart is filled with gratitude and pride, and his entire system is flooded with adrenaline and utter euphoria. He’s positively buzzing as the team gathers in the hallway leading toward the locker room. Some of them have been whisked away to give short post-match interviews — as if there is much to say other than how fucking awesome it feels to win — while the others are waiting for them to come back so they can all meet up at the locker room for some after match briefing. 

“Superstar, you did it!” 

Her voice carries through the hallway above the rest of all the noise. Like a siren calling out to him, she can’t hear anything but her, it all shifts into the background.

She weaves through the crowd like a fucking goddess in blue. He always thought she looked good in the Richmond colors and seeing her with his name on her back never fails to make his heart shutter with delight. But there’s something about today that makes this even more special. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline of winning. Of making his mom proud and proving his dad wrong. Of proving himself wrong. Maybe it’s seeing her in his kit, with his name and his number smiling that radiant smile of hers. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things. But something makes his brain short-circuit for a moment. Just a fleeting moment but long enough to make him push through the crowd until he’s standing in front of her, matching smiles on their faces. Just long enough for him to softly place one hand on her waist and pull her closer, so unbelievably close. Just long enough to cradle her face in his other hand, gentle and careful, like the most precious thing in the world. Long enough for him to place his lips on hers in a kiss so sweet, so long in the making, it feels surreal. It feels like he’s still stuck in his saccharine daydream.

And then reality snaps back and he pulls away, opening his eyes to a smiling (Y/N) staring back up at him through curious eyes.

“Silly boy, what was that?” 

She doesn’t sound upset, in fact, his delusions might even make him think she sounds delighted. 

“I — “ 

“Jamie, locker room. Let’s go, boy!” 

Ted’s voice calls out to him all full of glee and jubilation. The guy sounds even more chipper than usual and that says a whole lot. 

Pulling away from her feels like having a bubble suddenly popped. Every what-if that has been clouded by post-win euphoria suddenly bears their ugly head again. Sometimes Jamie wishes his thoughts weren’t so fucking loud all the time.

“Go, your coach is asking for you. I’ll see you at the after-party. We’ll talk then, yeah?”

Only they don’t because, for some inexplicable reason, Jamie avoids her like the plague.

Everyone is gathered at the bar for celebratory drinks, it’s a private function, just the team and family and associates. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited. And all things considered this night should be magical. Only it’s not, because once again Jamie refuses to let himself be loved.

Rejection tastes bitter. It’s sharp and metallic. Rejection also tastes quite a lot like tequila.

The salt, the lime, the liquor — it’s supposed to make her feel better. It’s supposed to mend the cracks in her heart, if only for a night. 

It doesn’t do any of that, it only makes her fucking sad.

How foolish of her to believe that he’d feel the same, that he’d finally pick up on the hints she’s been dropping for over a decade and reciprocate the feelings. Maybe they never stood a chance anyway. Maybe —

No, actually fuck that.

He can’t do this, it’s unfair. You don’t kiss someone, not like that at least, and then ignore them for the rest of the night. Especially not when that person is your best fucking friend.

Bumping against people left and right, she makes her way across the room to stand next to a smiling Jamie deep in conversation with a pretty girl, who (Y/N) is quite sure is the sister of one of his teammates.

“I need to talk to you.” It’s not a request. Not this time. This conversation has been a long time coming. It’s time, she thinks, to finally be brave. One can only swallow down their feelings and emotions for so long, until they come bubbling to the surface like a fucking volcano rolling over Pompeii. She just hopes that once the dust settles there will be hope instead of death and destruction.

“Uh, kind of in the middle of something here.” 

She can’t stand this part of him. This fake, unbothered cool guy who has no empathy for her or anyone other than himself. She hates it mostly because this is not the real Jamie, just some cardboard cutout version of him.

“Too bad, that'll have to wait.” 

She doesn’t give him another second to resist or shake her off, just grabs onto his arm and pulls him through the crowd and towards the exit.

The nightly London air feels cold against her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps appear on her arms.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“What the fuck is going on with me?”

He can’t be serious.

“Yeah. I had something going there. She was well fit too.”

The urge to smack him across his stupidly handsome face is seriously fighting her desire to kiss him again right about now.

“Good for her but you owe me a conversation.”

“(Y/N), I — “ 

The way he rolls his eyes so dismissively, so suave and cool, it’s like a dagger straight to the heart.

“No, you know what — fuck you, Jamie. I know you have a hard time letting people in completely, and I get that that’s something you have to work through on your own time but the way you're treating me right now is really shit. You can’t kiss me like that and then run. I’ve been waiting for that fucking kiss for over a decade.” 

“What?” 

He looks at her with the signature Jamie Tartt look of confusion and innocence. Like a damn puppy or something. And if she wasn’t so annoyed, so hurt, maybe she’d find it endearing.

“I’m in love with you, Jamie. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sat next to you in class and you asked me if Pythagoras was that French guy. I’ve loved you when you were just a chaotic teenager. I’ve loved you when you won your first game and when you lost. I’ve loved you when you signed your first contract and when you made a complete fool of yourself on that ridiculous tv show. And I love you now. So to think you finally picked up on it and reciprocate my feelings was — I was so happy, Jamie. Only for you to completely ignore me for the rest of the night. I don’t deserve that. Not from you of all people. “

“Will you let me talk?”

“No, I’m not done yet.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I love you, Jamie and I know you think I shouldn’t and that you don’t deserve it, but guess what? I don’t care. I love you anyway and I am not asking for permission to love you. That’s not how it works. And I don’t love you despite your flaws, I love them too. Even your stupid 2003 looking haircut and your ridiculous clothes that make you look like a male Bratz doll sometimes. Sorry people in your life made you feel like you had to earn it just because they couldn’t see how phenomenal you are. Just you, Jamie Tartt, messy little prick.” 

Silence wraps around them like a thick blanket as a moment passes, then two. Jamie raises his eyebrows in question.

“Can I?”

“Yes, you can!”

“Jesus, alright. Stop yelling at me.”

“Well, I’m upset!”

“And I’m sorry about that. I never meant to upset you. Ever. I just — do you remember that one birthday, I think I turned 12, when me dad showed up and he was just being his usual asshole self and he made me play against him and then yelled at me in front of all the guests when he won? “

She sure does. Even at 12, she wanted to put her tiny little fist straight between Mr. Tartt’s eyebrows. “Yes.”

“You sat with me when I went to my room to escape. Refused to leave my side. Called my dad a wanker and you made me laugh. Then you got me a piece of cake and we ate it on my bed while watching Spongebob.” A smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about that day.

“I was 12 and I didn’t know a lot but I knew that night that I was in love with you and I immediately promised myself I wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Losing you is the scariest thing I can think about and my track record with people is pretty shit, honestly. So yeah I didn’t want to even risk fucking up with you. Rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.”

“So why did you kiss me earlier after all?”

“For one, you looked so fit in blue, with my name on your back. I was full of adrenaline and just so fucking happy. I uh — I think my mind was telling me that it’s finally time to be brave for once.”

Hearing him say it, it’s something she never expected but always hoped for. She’s played this scene out so many times in her dreams and yet she doesn’t know what to say or do now that it is actually happening.

“So what now?”

“Well, if you let me, I was gonna kiss you. Because if you think that other kiss was great, this next one is going to change your life.”

As those words fall from his lips, (Y/N) can’t get close to him quick enough. Pulling him towards her by the front of his shirt. Closer and closer until there is no room left between them and he gently nuzzles his nose against hers. 

“Jamie Tartt?” 

“Hmm?”

“Change my life!”

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thought so. And maybe a part of him still does and always will. But kissing (Y/N), his best girl, the fucking love of his life, it feels quite easy to let himself be loved. 

Feels as easy as breathing. And for once in his life, the reality is so much sweeter than the daydream. 

[foreverfangirlsblog]

Abracadabra (Husk x Reader)

Summary:

Reader finds out that Husk used to do magic so she begs him to show her a magic trick.

Notes:

Word count: 1003 My requests are officially open!

Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her cocktail, eyes shamelessly studying Husk’s features. From the cute love hearts on his fur, to the patterned dots on his folded wings.

Husk knew you were staring him down, he’d have to be blind not to notice. But he was also keeping track of how many drinks you’ve consumed, and he knew it was more than enough to get you a bit tipsy.

“Ya know you can take a picture, it would last longer” His comment made you snap out of the trace he had on you, and a slight blush raise to your cheeks.

“Sorry I just…..can I ask you a question?”

His eyebrow raised at you a bit hesitant “Sure, what’s on your mind”

“Well I was wondering….why is it you look so….” Husk tensed up a bit, guard on high, fully expecting you to ask why the hell he became a furry “…well so magical?”

He hesitated, surprised by the question. Now it was his turn to blush. He half laughed at your wording, “Well truthfully gambling isn’t the only skill I have. I also used to do some magic”

“Used to?” You questioned

“Well yeah I haven’t done magic in….well since I ended up down here”

You hummed in response acknowledging his answer. A brief moment of silence passed while the gears turned in your head. “OH MY SATAN CAN YOU SHOW ME A MAGIC TRICK PLEASE!!”

Your sudden loudness caught him by surprise and then he laughed. “I don’t think so doll”

“Oh pleaseeeee” you practically whined.

Husk couldn’t help but think about how nice it sounded…you begging him. “If I show you a trick what’s in it for me? Will you pay me for my services?” Husk smirked.

You looked at him with a tilted head quizzingly “You know I’m broke Husk what could I give you?”

Husk sighed. The flirty comment went right over your head in your tipsy state. ‘Dammit I thought alcohol was supposed to make people more flirty’ he thought to himself. “I’ll tell ya what. If you remember this conversation tomorrow then maybe, MAYBE, I’ll show you a trick or two” he winked at you.

“You got a deal!” You said happily before downing the rest of your drink and heading to your room for bed.

There’s no way you’re letting yourself forget.

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

The next day you quickly threw on a random outfit to race down to the lobby and see if Husk was at his usual spot.

Once you got to the lobby you saw that the bar was actually empty. ‘Hm I guess he slept in’ you thought.

You sat at the bar swinging your feet in anticipation to see when Husk would make his way down.

Finally after what seemed like eternity, you saw Husk slowly walk into the lobby. He seemed super groggy and was rubbing his eyes in attempt to wake himself up.

“Husk you’re finally awake!”

Husk jumped slightly at your loud greeting and scowled a bit “What the hells with the loud greeting?”

“Sorry” you said bashfully, “rough night?”

“Nah, not really I just uh, had a late night” you nodded in acknowledgment.

You sat expectedly in your seat, practically jumping with excitement. Husk took his time getting settled behind the bar. “Alright what’s getting you all excited?”

“Ohhh just our conversation last night~” you replied teasingly.

Husk paused, he half expected you to forget the conversation from the previous night. But then again you weren’t exactly wasted. “Damn, you really remembered” Husk smirked as you smiled gleefully. “Alright doll watch closely”

Husk pulled a deck of cards out from his pockets. Fully prepared for this moment despite his so called hesitation from before. “Don’t judge me if this doesn’t work, it has been a while” he said despite skillfully shuffling the cards before fanning them to you, showing you both sides to prove that it was a normal deck. “Alright pick a card”

“Any card?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes at you but couldn’t fight the smile that creeped onto his face. After picking a card he instructed you to memorize the card, then to place it randomly back into the deck.

He offered to let you shuffle the deck for proof of no trickery but you declined, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in comparison to his skilled shuffle from before. He shrugged and continued to shuffle the deck.

“Alright here’s the fun part” he started before lifting the first card on the deck to face you, “is this your card?”

Despite the smirk on his face you noticed that it was not in fact your card. You hesitated a bit ‘should I lie and say it is?’

The hesitation and disappointment must’ve been obvious on your face because Husk laughed. Despite your confusion he continued, “I’m just fucking with ya, look in your pocket”. He winked at you before you stuck a hand in your pocket.

“Holy shit” you said as you pulled a card out from your back pocket. True enough it was the card you picked “How the fuck did you do that??”

He laughed at your excitement “A magician never reveals his secret doll”

You blushed as a goofy smile took over your face. “Alright now how am I supposed to pay you back?”

Husk was surprised you remembered that comment from last night too, and even more so, brought it up. “Oh I can think of a few ways” he said as he leaned towards your face more.

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

(Flashback to Husk the night before after you left him at the bar)

Husk was in his room cursing under his breath, practicing the card trick for the 11th time. Or was it the 12th? Honestly he lost track three tries ago. It was well into the witching hour and Husk had a stayed up all night practicing different tricks for you. Ya know just in case you remember…..which he hopes you will.

[atypicalamortentia]

May I requested an Ominis Gaunt relationship HC please 🥺

General Headcannons || Ominis Gaunt

Synopsis - General dating headcannons for Ominis Gaunt.

Warnings - SFW & NSFW.

Notes - All characters are 18+!

Word Count - 0.9k.

[Caffeinate Me]

SFW:

: ̗̀➛ Ominis first meets you in a different place depending on what house you’re in: if you’re in Slytherin his first interaction with you is in the Slytherin common room, but if you’re in any other house he meets you outside the Undercroft.

: ̗̀➛ Ominis is weary about you at first, you’re a stranger! 

: ̗̀➛ It takes the blonde a few weeks to eventually warm up to you. You offer to help him with some homework he’s been having trouble with and he happily accepts. 

: ̗̀➛ Can’t stop thinking about you after that. He always wants to know what you’re up to and how you’re doing. Your voice lives on repeat in his head. 

: ̗̀➛ Takes the man a while to realise he has a crush on you. Sebastian is the one who brings it up, noting that his friend blushes a lot whenever you’re around and won’t stop talking about you for hours afterwards. 

: ̗̀➛ Will open up about his past to you more than anybody else. At first, he says he doesn’t want to talk about it, but eventually he’ll begin to open up more. He finds comfort in your soothing words and slight touches on the shoulder that you give him in reassurance. 

: ̗̀➛ It takes Ominis a long time to confess his feelings for you but when he does you’re in the Undercroft drinking firewhiskey. The two of you are slightly tipsy when he just blurts out “I think I’m in love with you.”

: ̗̀➛ You’re stunned to begin with, mouth hung wide open as you blink slowly at him. Had you heard him right?

: ̗̀➛ “Y/N… Say something?” He’ll say, snapping you out of your trance. 

: ̗̀➛ “Do you really love me?” You ask. “Because if this is a joke, Ominis Gaunt, I swear to Merlin you’re in for a world of pain.”

: ̗̀➛ He chuckles slightly at your reaction before placing a hand on your shoulder and smiling at you. “I’m being serious. I love you.” 

: ̗̀➛ Ensue heavy make-out session. It’s Ominis’ first kiss so it’s clumsy with teeth clattering together but neither of you care. His hands will trace your hips as yours wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. 

: ̗̀➛ Ominis’ love language is physical touch. He’ll intertwine his fingers with yours when you’re walking to class and place tender kisses on your forehead when you part ways at night. He will always have a hand on you at all times whether it be your thigh, your hip or your shoulder. 

: ̗̀➛ Doesn’t use his wand to guide him around the castle when you’re around. He trusts you to get him to classes safely. 

: ̗̀➛ Dates to Hogsmeade are a must! And this man will pay for everything and don’t even try to stop him. He just wants you to know how much he loves you.

NSFW:

: ̗̀➛ Your first time is in the Undercroft. You’re both sitting on a sofa you had conjured when suddenly Ominis pulls you onto his lap. 

: ̗̀➛ His lips find yours in a desperate sloppy kiss before he trails down to your jaw and neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh.

: ̗̀➛ “I’ve been thinking,” he says in between kissing your neck. “I want to make love to you.” 

: ̗̀➛ “Ominis, are you sure?”

: ̗̀➛ He just nods, his hand making its way down to the hem of your skirt. His hands are shaking slightly as he plays with the fabric, nervous about what to do next. 

: ̗̀➛ it’s no surprise that Ominis is a virgin, but he doesn’t mind if you are too (or if you’re not, he’s not judging). 

: ̗̀➛ You grind against his lap forcing the blonde to let out a strangled moan. It feels so good he thinks he might cum before he even gets to enter you.

: ̗̀➛ You guide his shaky hand down your tights and his fingertips brush against your clit. You buck your hips slightly and let out the softest moan, it was like music to his ears. Ominis could listen to your moans all day if you’d let him. 

: ̗̀➛ His long fingers work circles around your clit before he dips his hand further into your underwear. He fingers you for a few minutes; a singular finger first before adding a second. His pace is nice and slow - he doesn’t want to hurt you. You’re basically riding his fingers. 

: ̗̀➛ When Ominis finally pushes his thick cock inside of you, he lets out the loudest moan and screws his eyes shut immediately as he tries to focus on not cumming instantly. He’s so sensitive he feels like he might burst.

: ̗̀➛ Ominis lets his hands wander around your body as you move your hips, taking control of the situation. He wants to commit every inch of your body to his memory so he can relive this moment over and over again in his mind. 

: ̗̀➛ “I wish I could see how beautiful you look right now,” he whispers horsley, biting his bottom lip to keep the noise down

: ̗̀➛ You bend down and press a soft kiss on his lips as you move your hips. Ominis shamelessly ruts against you, desperate for more. He’s begging for you to move just a little bit faster. 

: ̗̀➛ When he’s close, Ominis’ hand drops to your clit forcing you to cum at the same time as he does. He’s so loud as he cums you’re scared that people passing by the Undercroft might actually hear him.  

: ̗̀➛ Pulls you flush against his chest as you lift off of him slowly. His cock is so sensitive and so is he, he just wants to cuddle with you. 

: ̗̀➛ “I hope we can do that again,” he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You nod in agreement, smiling brightly. He looks like an angel underneath you and you never want this moment to end.

[slvthrs]

ALL THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

after 3 years you finally reunite with vinnie but it's not how you would like

OLD BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, ANGSTY, + some fluff, sex, alcohol ment, drug use (weed), making out, grinding, praise kink, emotional cheating idk, slight possessiveness

word count:  2.5k <3

The air is so salty on LA beaches.

It burns the inside of my throat whilst chlorine fills up my nose and salt in my eyes but the waves are nicer than Seattle. Warmer too.

I can feel the sand bed on my toes and shells scraping the sides of my legs as I float out peering and the sky and the way the shades of orange and yellow melt away at the baby blue and how the sun looks so majestic at this time.

I’m still slightly tipsy from the drinks we had earlier but I'm not incapacitated, it's just a nice buzz, it reminds me of when I lay my head down in the grass and I can hear the tiny shuffling of ants.

But apparently I’m still drunk enough to not hear my friends shouting from shore for me to come back until I feel a hand on mine pulling me out.

“Jesus, I thought you were gonna drown out there.” It’s Harvey, I love Harvey. He always smells like strawberries and smokes with me without judging.

“I wasn’t, let me like the ocean in peace you guys are assholes.” I retorted but I didn't stop walking with him back to the shore with my friends.

I fall back onto the plush of the towel as Harvey joins everyone else in a game of beach volleyball.

Well everyone except me… and Vinnie.

Vinnie, the same guy that I was inseparable for 10 years, now seeing him for the first time in 3.

The same guy I fell in love with at 13 and who broke my heart at 17. 

That Vinnie.

He’s sitting right in front of me in his shorts leaning back looking at everyone playing.

He has tattoos now and is much bigger. His hair is darker and face is more aged. He dresses better now and looks a lot happier but besides that he's still the same Vinnie.

I tuck my legs into my chest and rest my head on my knees, letting myself take in everything that changed about him to distract me from the cold wind tangling up my hair.

He finally looks back at me and something about it makes me still smile after all these years.

“M’ sorry I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” I mumble and then look away from him.

“Why are you sorry? I love seeing you.” He still has that same warmth in his voice that I fell in love with all those years ago.

“Just… I don’t know, I figured it’d be weird for you and her.” There's a maliciousness in my voice that I didn’t even know I could muster.

“Right… Allison.” He takes a deep breath, “ She likes you, don't worry!”

Allison, Vinnie’s new girlfriend of two months, she’s really sweet and a genuinely kind person but I can’t bring myself to like her.

I feel so pathetic, being in love with the same boy who hurt me all those years ago and who was able to move on whilst I stayed where I was. The same 17 year old stuck in bed the night Vinnie told me he loved me.

“Do you wanna go smoke?” 

I don’t think I’ve ever said no to that question from Vinnie but now it’s different.

“Shouldn’t you ask her first?” I say averting my gaze from him and playing with my nails.

“She hates when I smoke so probably not,” He gets up and walks to me giving me his hand, “Get up.”

…

“Get up!”

“Vinnie fuck off this shit is broken.” I stand up and shove the skateboard into his chest.

“C’mon you barely even tried it’s actually very fun, please I wanna teach you!” He says beaming in the sun and smiling at me whilst I try to clean the cuts on my legs.

“You're a shit teacher, Hacker!”

We’ve been at this skatepark for four hours and the only thing I can do is go in a straight line and wiggle a bit and Vinnie knows how much I hate things I don’t get the hang of quickly.

“You're torturing me Vinnie, I’m gonna leave here with a cut off leg or something!” I cry out

“You're gonna be fine, I'm not gonna let you get hurt.” He pouts in a faux puppy dog face

“I hate you so much.”

“Stop being a pussy!”

…

“Stop being a pussy Vin.” He’s been dragging me to this secluded part of the beach for 5 minutes

“My girlfriend hates smokers, I really don’t wanna get into another fight tonight.” He sighs

Another?

“Why don’t you try to quit? I know you want to, you hate smoking.” 

“It’s easier said than done- See we're here, you're just lazy!”

“Tell me something I don’t know, genius.” I half-joke

The view is nice, like really nice. It's so much quieter and less people means you can see the ocean without any distractions.

I lay down on the sand forgetting about the fact I'll be covered in it when I get up- That's a problem for me in the future.

He takes out a mini bong and packs it whilst I lay there and close my eyes.

This is nice, it reminds me of when we were younger. I was actually the first person to introduce Vinnie to weed and it kinda became our ritual, he would get the bing ready and I would wait patiently for him.

I can hear the bubbles and turn to look at him as he turns his head up, flexing his jaw and blowing the smoke out. 

He always looks so pretty smoking.

“Do you ever miss it?” I ask, purposefully vague.

“Miss what?” 

Us

“Seattle?”

“Yeah, especially during the summer. It’s hard to miss it that much when I come back every month to see my family.” He replies by passing the bong to me along with the lighter as I sit up.

“But you never come visit me?” I turn my head and he looks away into the ocean

“I know… I wanted to but everytime I mustered up the courage something would get in the way… Plus whenever I saw your pictures you looked happy, I didn’t wanna fuck that up.” 

“So your solution was to invite to to the beach with your new girlfriend and all your old friends instead of I don’t know, talking to your fucking bestfriend instead of ignoring her for 3 years making her feel like she fucked up?” It come out in a condescending tone

Every sour emotion that I held against Vinnie is bubbling up. Every emotion I felt when I saw a picture of him with his new friends, when he got his first girlfriend in LA, when he won that stupid fucking match and didn’t even reply to my dm congratulating him. 

“I know I fucked up trust me,” The bong is still in my hands, lying their idly like a forgotten childrens toy, “But even if I did talk to you whenever I would come back I wouldn’t even know what to say to you.”

“Oh fuck off Vinnie, you could have said anything, I was waiting for you to say anything. Apologies are two words but you couldn’t even muster that up? God I hate you so much.”

I don’t.

“I’m sorry,” He breathes in, “I’m sorry I stopped talking to you, I’m sorry I fucked everything up, I’m sorry I never actually told you how I felt, I’m sorry I made you feel like it was your fault, I’m sorry I ruined the friendship, and I’m so sorry I never said this earlier to you. Your my favourite person and I fucked everything over cause I was to scared of loving you.”

He breathes out.

We both just sit there in silence, I’m getting colder by the minute but I don’t move. The apology I waited 3 years for finally arrived but I don’t feel any better. I just wanted Vinnie to say something to make all the pain feel worth it and then everything to go back the way it was.

“It wasn’t entirely your fault for ruining the friendship.”

…

“You promise this won't ruin our friendship Vin.”

“I promise you, and you trust me so relax.”

His lips slot in between mine, he pulls me closer to him as my hands thread through his hair. 

It’s rough. I should have bought him new shampoo for his 18th.

“Your lips are so soft, I love them.” He whispers to me in between kisses as I lay my body over his and he guides my hips over his dick, rutting into him.

“You suck as dirty talk.” I giggle before going back to make out with him.

I let my lips trail down to his jawline leaving faint kisses there as he holds me close to him so I can feel the way his chest rises and falls. My hands drag down his torso and then up inside his shirt. My kisses falter as they reach his neck and I start sucking love bites into them and hear his hiss and whimper above me.

“Feels s’ good baby.” He breathes out, letting his hands rest at my waist as his thumb circles the area soothing the skins there.

When I’m done he flips the two of us over so now he’s above me with my hands pinned to my sides. 

He locks his lips into mine again, my whole body melts into the kiss, I lean into him, shutting my eyes, letting myself save the memory. I moan into his mouth as he pulls the kiss closer to him in a tantalizing fight for more dominance. 

As he pulls back, his eyes meet mine and I get lost in the honey brown, I study the features on his face at this moment, intent to not forget a thing. He looks back at me with a small smile.

His hands free mine and let me hook my hands around his neck. I pull him closer to my body as he kisses down my neck whilst his hands go under my shirt.

“Say you want this baby.” His gasps 

“Please, I need you so bad, I want you bad.” I beg

His hand undone my pants pulling them off leaving me in just my shirt and panties. 

Vinnie lifts himself up to take off his shirt, letting my hands graze through his body as he undoes his belt and pants and throws them on the floor, then taking his dick out of his boxer, pumping it up in his hand whilst reaching over into his dresser for a condom.

I lean my head back and stare into the ceiling waiting for him before he pulls my panties to the side and slowly lets his cock stretch me out as I arch into his touch.

His pace is relenting, I clutch his shoulder for stability and cry out into his neck, his thumb is circling my clit, his free hand holds us up and his eyebrows are knitted together in focus even though his lips keep kissing my body to make sure I’m okay.

“Feel good, you're not hurt angel?”

“No, fuck, god no, feels good Vin.” I say, barely able to make any full sentences.

It’s not long until I cum under him, I drag my nails across his back and scream into his neck to make sure I’m quiet enough and Vinnie rides me out through my high as a gasp and falls back into his bed. 

It’s not long after Vinnie comes and places a kiss on my forehead before getting us a towel and me some water to clean up. He gave me my favorite sweatshirt of his, a red Seattle shirt that I ended up cutting the collar off so it wouldn’t stay on my shoulder. 

“I love you.” He whispers before laying his face into my shoulder.

I end up falling asleep in his arms as he pulls me closer to him.

In the morning I’m alone in his bed and in his house and I end up going back to my own, lying saying I was with a friend.

It wasn’t until that night until I got a call from Reggie telling me that Vinnie had left for LA last night.

I ended up giving Vinnie’s sweater back to Reggie.

…

“It might not have been my entire fault but I still left in the middle of the night, in my bed, in my shirt, without telling you.” He reminds me, snapping me back from reality.

I lie back down into the sand taking a hit of the forgotten bong and then placing it on my side, Vinnie copies me.

It’s quiet, I like it. 

Back home me and Vinnie would always sit in the same room doing our own things, he would game whilst I’d play with Poncho or message my friends. Being in the same atmosphere was relaxing for each other.

Now it’s just tense.

“Vinnie,” I look at him, “Do you ever miss me?”

He laughs.

“Everyday, every time I go to the beach, every time my friends talk about love, every time I remember home you're always there. I don’t think I could ever not miss you.” He turns his head to look at me.

I really do miss him. I miss going to his house after a long day, I miss skipping classes together and smoking weed, I miss telling him everything. I miss him so much it hurts.

“Everything could have been so different.” I chuckle

“Yeah, we could have both still be in University together, we could have both still be in Seattle. Hell could have actually gotten together.” He laughs but I finally look back at him.

We fall back into our comfortable silence letting the ocean waves wash over us. It's dark out now and you can see the moons and the stars. It’s calming.

It’s a short lived calm however since his phone rings and he jerks up to pick it up.

I don’t listen until I hear him call the person on the line ‘baby’. It’s Allison… his girlfriend.

Our time ’s up, so I pick up my things which are just myself and a bong whilst Vinnie ends the call and we walk back to where everyone is in silence.

We get back and Allison runs into Vinnies arms placing kisses all over his face and tugs him down to sit at the bonfire. 

I lean my head on to Harveys shoulder as I zone as I eat the burger he made for me but as I look up I see Vinnie staring at me but as soon as he sees me looking back at him he looks down at his plate.

Before we realize it turns to 1 in the morning and I’m ready to go to sleep. Harvey is dropping me off and Chloe is coming with us. 

Vinnie is leaving with Allison as she drags him away but he stops as he sees me.

Before Vinnie leaves he gives me a bag with something inside and hugs me without saying a word. 

It’s a hoodie. The hoodie. A red Seattle crewneck with a cut collar. The hoodie he gave me the night he told me he loved and then left. And he left again. Leaving me with nothing but his stupid hoodie and all the things we never said.

[kimsohn]

insignificance

pairing . eric x gn! reader about . 2k words, fluff (suggestive) warnings . 16+ cause there is heavy making out at the end, drinking wine, mentions of murder but it's all jokes!!

synopsis . it takes one dinner and a late-night drive for you to fall in love with your fiancé all over again. note . the inspo for this fic was @sohnric's plot twist make-out scene (and this pic) i hope i did it justice 💗 i wrote this on a whim and am posting this at 1am so please excuse me for this monstrosity 😭 tysm @juyeonszn and @mars101 for cheering me on YUPP tagging . @stealanity @invuwrld @gfksn (+ bar)

The background noise of the waiters shuffling around fades away as your two glasses clink together. Vivaldi’s Spring is playing in the background, a piece you’ve only heard once in a blue moon at an orchestra concert. Eric seems to have experienced differently, though, judging by the taps of his dress-shoe-covered foot beneath the table and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Cheers,” you whisper, giddy with excitement.

“Cheers, baby,” Eric whispers back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin.

The wine in your glass swishes as you take a tentative sip. It’s sweet and fruity, and you’ve already forgotten the name Eric rattled off to the waiter as if expensive drinks were second nature to him. They probably were second nature to the Sohn family, considering the elegance of this fancy restaurant, the outfit he bought that now adorns you, and the sparkling ring that sits on your finger.

You set the glass down next to you, already a little overwhelmed with the elegance of this atmosphere. You knew you married rich, but it never particularly occurred to you just how rich your fiancé is. In fact, you feel a little out of place sitting in a chair that costs half of your monthly paycheck and staring at a menu that you once never would’ve been able to. Despite already being engaged to the love of your life, you’re not sure you’ll ever find a way to fit into the intricate setting that the Sohns have grown up in.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asks, seeing the glimmer in your eyes dissipate with your overthinking.

He reaches across the table to take your hands in his, running his thumb over your ring. He traces the lines of it, following the swirl pattern as if he were seeing it for the first time. As if he didn’t spend hours agonizing over what design to gift you, so sure that you would reject him if it wasn’t up to your liking.

(You would’ve said yes even if he proposed to you with a lollipop.)

“I feel like I don’t belong here,” you admit, your head hanging low as the embarrassment clouds your features.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, lacing them tightly. Eric is all too knowing of the nagging thoughts in your brain, telling you you’re undeserving of the man in front of you and the wealth that comes along with it. However, you’ve hit the jackpot in the fact that Eric is always ready to argue back with the devil on your shoulder, even if it’s three in the morning and you’re delirious from sleep or if you’re a little bit too tipsy and crying in his lap. Eric, for lack of better words, is always there for you. Even now, as he holds your hands and stares into your eyes as if you’re the only person in the universe, he is here for you.

“I’m going to eat that little voice in your head so it goes away,” he responds a moment later with finality, extremely serious.

The statement is so absurd and unexpected that it has you giggling, and you grip Eric’s fingers tighter as you lean forward and can’t find it in you to stop. All your previous tension disappears when you look into Eric’s eyes, filled with mirth and kindness.

“You’re crazy,” you voice through laughter, reaching for the wine glass to calm your jumbling nerves.

Eric just shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile that reflects your current predicament.

“Crazy for you, babe. Now stop worrying your pretty little head and enjoy your food, okay?”

And enjoy the food you do. The three-course meal followed by dessert has you clutching your stomach after, full and bloated from the amount of delicious food you’ve consumed. You can’t even bring yourself to take a couple more bites of the black forest delicacy that sits on your plate, but luckily, you have the universe to thank for the takeout box that now rests in Eric’s left hand.

His other hand holds the car keys, and as he clicks the unlock button, the Orange Corvette lights up from across the parking garage. Its bright color is exactly reminiscent of the man standing next to you, exuberant and dashing. You felt like a little kid the first time he picked you up in his car, extremely impressed with the interior neon lights he showed off to you in the earlier stages of your relationship. Now, as his fiancé, the car is something comfortable to you, having seen it too many times to count by this point. 

He helps you into the front seat before getting in beside you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of your headrest as he backs the car out. You’ll never admit this to him, but the view of him looking back and inching the car out is devilishly handsome to you, and you have to fight the warmth that rises to your cheeks.

Once he repositions the vehicle and drives forward, the hand that’s behind you now moves to your thigh. The shiny watch on his wrist glints in the moonlight, and he absentmindedly draws circles on your clothed skin to the beat of the song. It doesn’t help that it’s an R&B track, so every movement of his finger is slow and torturous, and every trace ignites fire against the cloth. 

“Eric,” you start, watching as he pulls to a stop before the red light.

“Hm?” he responds, turning his head to face you.

You notice that he’s wearing a singular stud earring on his right ear. You can only pray that you’ll find some strength to survive the rest of this car ride because as soon as it’s over, you won’t let him see the light of day.

“How much longer?” you ask tentatively, like a little kid squirming in their seat.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to focus on the road. It doesn’t help though, because his side profile is just as alluring as his front.

“Couple more minutes, baby.”

True to his word, he exits the main road a few minutes later, driving up a dirt path unfamiliar to you. The road is slightly bumpy, and you’re a little tipsy from the wine so you shift around quite frequently, but Eric’s unwavering, strong grip on your thigh keeps you grounded. The more you stare at his hand, the more sexy you find his hand pressed against the silk you’re wearing.

You’re reconsidering your decision to spend the rest of your life with this ridiculously hot man when he pulls into a forest clearing.

“Are you going to murder me, Eric Sohn?” you tease as he parks the car, swiftly maneuvering the wheel.

You move to step out once he’s done, but he’s faster than you, and he opens the car door before you can even reach for the handle.

“If I wanted to murder you,” he says, holding your arm as you step out, “I would’ve already done so, my love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you have little to be annoyed about as you survey your surroundings. The dark forest around you is a contrast to the vividness of the car, but nothing seems brighter than Eric’s smile at the moment and the twinkling stars around you.

Eric leads you to a clearing, his hand pressed against the small of your back. You peer over, fascinated at the realization that you can see the whole city from here. The twinkling lights of the bustling city below you are something of a dream, and as you look towards Eric, you can see the stars reflected in his eyes.

Minutes like these, where you’re not surrounded by extravagance, are when you truly feel your connection with Eric. Raw, unearthed, and simply pure, you feel like you’re stripped of all labels. You both are just insignificant specks in the universe, and he is truly just some guy to you in this moment, but you know wholeheartedly that this very guy is the one you truly love. You would never have it any other way.

The grin on Eric’s face is infectious as you face him with one of your own. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, clasping them together as his arms find their way around your waist. 

“Found this place the other day,” he explains as if he could hear your thoughts, “I kinda regret not proposing to you here.”

“Don’t lie,” you mutter, knowing that he definitely does not regret whisking you away to his private condo in the mountains just to put a ring on your finger.

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The cicadas chirp around you, and all is silent when he calms down except for your two breaths in unison. His gaze circulates from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes, and whatever triangle method he’s using is working because one second later, you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

He tastes like strawberries, and you smile against his lips remembering that you’d gifted him strawberry lip balm two days ago. Your man, your sexy, diligent man, following your orders to take care of his lips stirs butterflies in your stomach. The fact that you hold some kind of power over the Sohn family’s heir makes you feel a little dizzy, but your only response is to pull Eric closer and kiss him harder.

The sweetness of both the strawberry scent and the kiss fade as he presses back with just as fervor, adjusting his arms around you to pull you in tighter. The space between you feels unbearable, and despite the proximity between you two, the gap is still too big for your liking. You need him viscerally, every part of him on you as if the very concept of distance is poisonous and Eric is your antidote.

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling back with shallow breaths, “the car.”

You end up in the front seat of his car, the seat tilted backward and you in Eric’s lap. One of his knees holds you in place against your back, and his hands rest on your waist. The position is far too intimate that anyone walking by will know exactly what’s going on. Your kisses have turned heady, mirroring the darkness in his eyes and the way you clutch onto the front of his black shirt. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, but Eric distracts you with his tongue swiping across your lips and the way he softly bites when you protest. By some miracle, you finish moments later, and you run your hands down his skin. He shivers, and everything feels like pure electricity between you two the way his fingers press into your sides tighter. 

(It will bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care. You’ll simply shrug on a shirt and try to fight a blush as Eric stares at you from the bed shirtless, a knowing grin on his face.)

His kisses trail down your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, finally finding a home in your collarbone, biting and sucking as if it was his favorite pastime. It probably is, with the way he kisses down your shoulder and tugs the strap of clothing down.

Your fingers trace his collarbone, and you hold his head in your hands as he looks up at you. He’s needy and restless, but he’ll always listen to you when you have something to say.

You may be an insignificant speck in the world, but in Eric’s eyes, you’re the whole universe.

“I love you,” you whisper.

It’s all you have to say before he flips you around, pressing you into the dip of the seat as he slides your clothing down. The air conditioning of the car and the ambient music bring goosebumps to your now exposed skin, but Eric makes everything disappear by resuming his previous ministrations.

He looks into your eyes before pressing a kiss right above your heart. It beats against your chest, heavy, and Eric knows it’s only for him. It will always be only for him.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, smiling against your skin.

“Forever and always.”

[inkluvs]

ribs — send me a sfw request (prompts here if u want)

sender, seeing that receiver is cold, wraps their jacket around them with rockstar!remus pretty please

stop here

moniqueee babe i hope u like this i miss remus so muchhh <3 tw: slightly tipsy reader ; pet names ; (0.4k)

remus lupin x reader

summer celly // masterlist // taglist

Your attendance at Remus’s shows is something the press seems to delve into too often; Analyzing your relationship and whether or not you’re together based on which dates you go to and which you don’t when in reality, the two of you had come to an agreement a while back. 

Fuck the press. 

Whichever dates you feel up for attending, you come to, and if you don’t, Remus meets you in the hotel. He never judges you for any decision at all. He knows how hard being under the public eye is and he wants you to have your peace. But when you do choose to show up, Remus makes the most out of it. He holds your hand as you jump to the music and pulls you on stage at the end, dipping you with his mic behind your back and his guitar slung behind his as he kisses you. The crowd goes wild.

Once your upright Remus waved goodbye, a dopey and kiss-drunk grin splitting his cheeks. The fans love the more vulnerable side of him. The side that only you brought out and only you had wholly. It was always a good show when you were there.

The drive home is always amazing. You’re always a bit tipsy, giggly, and touchy with Remus, breathing in the familiar scent of cedarwood and smoke as he loves on you.

“Did we do alright?” The words are hushed against your neck, falling from his lips in tandem with a purpling bruise on the tender skin.

You hum, though Remus isn’t quite sure whether it’s in agreement with him or if you’re humming along to whatever tape the driver had playing.

“Stop here.” The man hits the brakes suddenly and you fall forward, knocking your chin against Remus’s chest as he pulls you into him.

“Here? Isn’t your hotel a few streets down?” 

“Getting some air.” He replied, handing the man a few bills.

A shiver rolls over your skin as you step out of the car and you lean into Remus’s warmth, stumbling down the street as the two of you gain your balance. His thumb runs up and down your arm, pausing slightly when he notices the bumps.

“You’re cold.”

“I am not.” You giggle. Remus’s shows were always sweaty, both for the band and the audience, so you rarely bothered bringing a sweater, figuring the adrenaline would keep you warm. It never did.

“Here.” His jacket, black and warm and just a bit too big for you, is draped over your shoulders, a comforting weight as you lean back into him.

“Smells like you.” You sniffle.

“I’d hope so, doll. Wouldn’t want it to smell like James now would I.”

You nod solemnly. 

“Race you back?”

You were already halfway there.

[honey-flustered]

Too Quiet (Fluff)

YoungDad!Steve Harrington x YoungMom!Reader

Summary: You and Steve finally get a moment of peace until you’re reminded that you’re parents of two rambunctious toddlers and a puppy. Sometimes, quiet’s never a good sign.

A/N: This fluffy thought came to me because I have a toddler niece and whenever she gets quiet we know she’s never up to any good. This also goes out to the parents who just need a little break from time to time. (Note: this has also been in my drafts for so long)

Word: 1.6k+

You appreciated the mundane. Boring can be good sometimes. Like for instance, neither you or Steve had any work that needed to be done. No errands, no chores, no 8-12-16 hour shifts. It was just a simple day where the two of you got to relax.

You found yourselves so comfortable, in fact, you hadn’t recognized that you were laid on the couch with your back against his chest, scrolling on your phone until he randomly cleared his throat.

You jolt up, looking back at him. “Whoa! When’d you get here?”

He looks up from his book, reading glasses slipping to the bridge of his nose. “I sacrifice my need to get up and pee for like 2 hours just to be your body pillow. My legs are asleep.”

You roll yourself around, facing him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “I’m sorry I’ve ignored you. It’s just so nice having these moments of downtime.”

He kisses your nose. “I understand, love. I’m really glad we don’t always have to talk to enjoy each other’s company. I like the comfortable silence.”

“Me too,” You grin. “Sometimes, I don’t always want to talk. Sometimes, I just want to scroll through my phone or eat a whole pot of mac ‘n’ cheese all by myself without the necessary judgment.”

“Weird way of bringing that up…but I get it.” Steve chuckles. “And you know what—since we’re throwing things out there—I’m so over people believing that being ‘boring’ is synonymous to being ‘old’. I mean, if I prefer staying home over going to parties it doesn’t mean I’m not still King Steve.”

“Exactly! Boring is the new fun! Like vanilla sex…it isn’t so bad.”

“It’s fantastic! We don’t always need the theatrics. It’s just so extra to have freaky sex all the time. Um, waiter, I’d like vanilla sex with a side of missionary please.”

You snort at his dorkiness. “I have to admit that I don’t always care to drink when we go out. I don’t always want to be a tipsy ditz all the time. Sometimes when I’m out with my friends, they make me feel bad about ordering just wine so I just lie and say that I’m drinking vodka when it’s only water in my glass. I’m just really good at pretending I’m drunk.”

“You’re goddamn Meryl Streep and Viola Davis combined when you act drunk, baby. I could use some pointers. I don’t always want to drink either but the boys…” Steve groans. “It’s always ‘Steve, chug down this beer’ and never ‘Steve, would you like some chamomile tea.’ I don’t drink tea but I just might start if someone offers me.”

“I’d offer you since you’re taking interest. Would you like me to make you some now?”

“Maybe later,” Steve curls his arms around you tight. “I like talking about being boring with you.”

“Yeah, I could be boring with you all the time. Like if I decided to crochet some shit for the hell of it, you wouldn’t judge.”

“Course I wouldn’t. I think you’d be the best crocheter ever and that’s saying a lot because there are a lot of great ones out there. I know this because I watched a youtube tutorial of crochet making…in full. I don’t plan to make a not one piece but I watched it anyway because I had time,” Steve shrugs. “And sometimes, even when I have plenty of time, I don’t always feel like styling my hair.”

You gasp, putting a hand to your chest. “Not the hair!”

“I can be too cool for cool.” He smiles smugly.

“I wanna wear a oversized clothes.” You rush out.

“You deserve it! I’ve seen the kind of clothes you’ve had to wear. Super tight. Not that it’s a bad thing, of course. I don’t always wanna dress in the latest fashion either.”

“I hate going to the beach nowadays. I get sand in all of my crevices and I end up finding sand around the house even weeks after.”

“I hate driving too fast.”

“I like gardening.”

“I like socks with sandals.”

“I’ve been leaning into buying those portraits with the words on them that say things like “home is where the heart is” or some corny thing like that”

“Eww, you mean the ‘live, laugh, love’ crap,” He laughs. “I’m sorry but we’re not that old.”

“Oh, please, I’m sure you’ve got worse.”

Steve thinks for a moment. “I guess I’ve always wanted to ask an employee if they’re working hard or hardly working.”

“Oh, nooo!” You cringe. “That’s horrible. Do you want them to hate you?”

“Alright, so I’m that kind of old, too.” He admits defeat.

“I think mom jeans aren’t as bad as everyone makes them to be.”

“I think dad jokes are the epitome of comedy and I’ve brushed up on some.”

“Ooo, tell me one!” You beam excitedly.

“Okay. What do you call a nose with no body?”

“What?”

“Nobody knows."

You both join in laughter which soon dies down when the gears in each of your heads began to turn. The two of you stare in space, speechless and reflective of the conversation.

“Although, it is a bit quiet,” You say, breaking the silence. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, too quiet.”

“Not boring, though.”

“No, not boring. It’s a good boring if it is. But it’s like…something’s missing. Like we’re forgetting something important.”

“Or someone important?”

“Some…ones…” Steve says in a reflective tone, then his eyes bug out and so do yours as you come to the same realization.

The two of you exchanged looks and simultaneously yell. “Our babies?!”

The two of you jump up from the couch and heading in any direction the two believed the boys were in. You checked the pantry, he checked in the bottom cabinets. He checked the in the boys closet, you checked underneath the bed.

“How could have forgotten about them for two hours?!” Steve exclaims. “We’re terrible people! They’re literally all the reasons why we’re so old and boring now so how can we have forgotten?!”

“They’ve handled themselves just fine alone, babe.” You say trying to comfort him.

“You and I both know that when it gets quiet it’s never a good sign. They’re like Max from Max and Ruby and you know how sociopathic that bunny could be. Little Baby Blue hasn’t barked in 2 hours either. What could they have possibly done to him?” Steve says while running his hands through his hair.

The sounds of giggling from the master bedroom is enough to shake you and Steve to your core. The boys were for sure in there and possibly doing something that will cost you a lot of money to repair.

“For all we know they’ve just created armagedon in there,” You say, darting your eyes between the bedroom door and Steve. “Whatever happens, whatever we see…we must prepare ourselves. Some things may be damaged beyond repair and most likely there will be a lot of cleaning up to do…but we mustn’t take out our anger on the children. They’re children who are simply practicing their exploration and discovery skills.”

“Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one who found your game console submerged in a toilet bowl,” He clutches his chest. “You don’t know my pain.”

You groan, hearing more laughter from the boys. “What do think it is this time? Paint on the walls? The forbidden mudpie cake? Fisher Price Guillotine?”

“I don’t know. That’s the terrifying part. They always come up with the darnedest things,” Steve holds out his hand. “Hold it please, I’m not ready for this horror show.”

You swallow hard, taking his hand. Opening the masters bedroom, you see the twins with their thumbs in their mouths watching Saturday cartoons on the large bed. Little Baby Blue is wedged between the boys, relaxing as they both pet him with their free hands. Their eyes immediately dart to the two of you standing in the doorway like you’d just interrupted a nice moment.

“Mommy.” Oslo smiles and runs up to you.

“Daddy!” Bear runs into Steve’s arms.

“My boys,” You say in relief. “Mommy and Daddy are so sorry for not checking on you. We were very, very tired.”

“Das kay, mommy,” Oslo says, snuggling into your tummy. “Blue’s here with us.”

“Blue even gave us some things to eat.” Bear points to one side of the bed which was full of snacks from the pantry.

“I was wonderful where the Oreos went.” Steve says.

You pet Blue. “That’s a good boy! Maybe next time go for the healthier options in the fridge.” The dog huff and you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll cut you some slack. I know how hard it is watching two toddlers.”

“I’m going to whip us up some lunch and then we’ll go to the park for family fun day. How’s that sound, boys?” Steve says.

The boys jump up and down excitedly with Steve hyping up their mood. “Ok, but you have to go and get ready real quick. Think you two can do that like the big boys you are?”

“Yes!” They shout at once.

“Go on then after come down for the famous Harrington men’s sandwich.”

The boys run out of the room, Blur chasing after them.

You lean in to whisper to your husband, still in shock. “Everything’s neat. The boys were actually angels the entire day. Thanks to babysitter Blue.”

“I guess those two were having a relaxed day, too.” Steve quips.

Oslo enters the room, tugging your sweater. “Mommy, can you help me find my favorite sho”

“You mean the light up ones?”

Oslo nods and you take his hand, “Come on, we’ll look together.”

“Then, I’ll help Bear get dressed. We’re going to beat you guys!” Steve teases.

You all laugh enjoying the friendly competition. Although, you enjoyed the times where things get quiet. You couldn’t trade the moments of chaos and fun with your family for the world.

[kimaixun]

[It is what it is; Part Two] - [SKZ Bang Chan X M!Reader]

Part One

‼️Trigger Warning(s) : Bullied, Abuse, Rape, Depression, Suicidal‼️

“Are you still hanged up over it?” Seo ChangBin questions the red headed as he tried to secretly glance over his roommate who sat at the corner of the classroom. “If you’re gonna appear every single time we end a period, you’re labelling yourself as a creep. It’s been a week.”

It has been a week.

A week since that night where Bang Chan couldn’t forget the tiny little tint of hurt flashing across M/N’s eyes. He didn’t go after M/N when he left the restaurant but, as he sat back down, a sense of guilt ambushed him, stabbing his heart that the pain was almost physical. Why? Why did he feel that way? This shouldn’t be hurting him, this should only hurt M/N so why was he hurt? M/N didn’t come back that night and Bang Chan barely caught any sleep either. It was early in the morning the next day when Bang Chan heard the door of the dorm open and M/N came stumbling into the room, tipsy, stench in cigarettes and alcohol. Bang Chan got up to sit on his bed, his eyes observing every move of the latter who seems to ignore him indefinitely.

“M/N……I…. I can explain.” Bang Chan stammered.

M/N turned to him, his eyes glassy and unfocused, “It is what it is. You don’t need to waste your breath explaining and I don’t need to waste my time listening.”

That was all M/N said before dropping onto his bed, burying himself under his blanket. Bang Chan swore something in him cracked. Ever since then, neither of them shared any word or look even, at least not M/N. Bang Chan still stole glances over his roommate whilst M/N simply pretended as if Bang Chan was nothing but, a thin of air.

“Has M/N been different lately in class?”

ChangBin thought for a moment before shaking his head, “not really. He is still a quiet and reserved kid like he always was since forever.”

“T…That’s good i guess.”

ChangBin rolled his eyes, “seriously? Why are you so concerned about M/N?”

“I…I… I’m not concern about him, i….i just wanna see him suffer?” It came out as a question but for sure, ChangBin didn’t believe the latter.

ChangBin sighed and patted Bang Chan’s right shoulder, “I won’t judge if you end up caring about how he had felt you know. Besides, you did have to go through a lot just for a bet.”

At his words, Bang Chan winced. He did had to go through a lot to get to know M/N. He had to learn and study M/N deeply, taking notes of his liking and dislikes, his little pet peeves, etc. When M/N confessed to Bang Chan, there was no doubt that Bang Chan felt something, Bang Chan could feel the sincerity of M/N’s heart. Bang Chan had to do something to reconcile with M/N, or at least, get M/N to just look at him even for a minute and so the gifts came in. Bang Chan had left gifts with notes on M/N’s study table.

‘M/N, I bought you the cake you liked from the bakery nearby.’

‘M/N, I bought the puff you craved for before.’

‘M/N, i got this flowers cause it reminded me of you.’

‘M/N, look at this grumpy cat plush. It looks just like you.’

‘M/N, this was cute so i got it for you.’

‘M/N, the novel was going for sale at the bookstore so i thought of you.’

Bang Chan felt the ache in his heart looking at the untouched gifts on M/N’s table. It didn’t seem like M/N even care to look at them. This had been even worse than when Bang Chan had know him for the first time. The walls that Bang Chan had torn down previously was rebuilt with even more concrete security and to be frank, Bang Chan was losing hope.

Bang Chan dramatically plops onto the lunch table across ChangBin and whined, “he doesn’t even touch it, i doubt he even looked at it. I had to throw all the cake(s) and pastries that turned bad. Binnie, give me ideas please. I have to do something. I need to apologise to him.”

“You’re finally admitting that you don’t want to see him suffer?” ChangBin smirked. Bang Chan sighed in defeat and nodded to his words. “I mean, if the gifts aren’t working, perhaps do something more brazen? Like, just grab him and make him look at you and talk it out.”

“It could work, maybe?”

“Oh, by the way, have you heard about it?”

“About what?”

“It could be a rumour but proof has been circulating that M/N use to be a porn star. He was involved in a child pornography.” ChangBin said and Bang Chan gasped, “it’s sickening knowing that people are actually into it.”

“Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I told you it could be a rumour. I haven’t seen it for myself.”

Bang Chan abruptly stood from his chair, taking his belongings before he rushes out of the cafeteria. Reality smacked him hard on the face. Just when he thought he knew M/N that well, there was still some untold secrets kept by him. Could this be the reason why M/N declared Bang Chan was his will to live? Could this be why M/N confessed that Bang Chan had saved him from himself? Could M/N have gone through severe depression because if the rumour had been true, it could tear down one’s soul? Now, Bang Chan felt even worse than before. The red headed find himself sprinting to his dorm room, barging into it. There, M/N sat on his bed with his phone in his hand.

“You,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline from sprinting.

He locked the door to their dorm room, stomping towards M/N and he stood right in front of the latter who couldn’t care less to even look at him once.

“You…” Bang Chan breathed, “did you know that there are rumours going on that you were involve in a child pornography?” Bang Chan could see how M/N’s frail begin to tremble. “Is it true?” This time, M/N’s head dropped as if he was a child ashamed of being scolded. “M/N? Is it true that you were involved in a child pornography?”

“And so what?” Bang Chan breath hitched as soon as M/N spoke. It had been awhile since he last heard the latter talk and his voice still never failed to give shivers down his spine.

Bang Chan honestly didn’t expect himself to feel anger arise in him at M/N’s response, “so what?! You should’ve told me! You should’ve explain to me the reason why you’ve been telling me that i saved your life! I could’ve understood you better and—,”

“AND WHAT?!” It happened in a blink of an eye. M/N stood up, pushing Bang Chan hard that he had fell onto his bed, “SO YOU CAN TELL CHANGBIN AND YOUR GROUPS OF FRIENDS THAT I AM THE CHILD IN THAT PORNOGRAPHY? SO YOU CAN CONFIRM THE RUMOURS THAT HAVE BEEN CIRCULATING AROUND?! SO YOU CAN JOIN THE SENIORS WHO ARE INTENDING TO RAPE ME?” Raged was seen across M/N as he towers over Bang Chan, spit flying from his lips. In that moment of anger he'd said everything, whatever was most hurtful, whatever would give him the opportunity to relieve himself, “IF I HAD TOLD YOU EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED IN THE PAST, WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING ADOPTED BY CRIMINALS? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING SOLD TO PEOPLE, TO HUMANS FOR THEIR PLEASURE? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRAUMA AND SUFFOCATION I FELT? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND ME IF I SAID THAT I HAD TO KILL PEOPLE BECAUSE ALL OF THEM RAPED ME AT ONCE? COULD YOU BE HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU BRING BACK HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU STOP ME FROM TRYING TO KILL MYSELF EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. NIGHT?”

Bang Chan felt his heart throbbed immensely at M/N’s words. The pain and despair he had made M/N felt was nothing compared to what M/N had been through.

“I LOVED YOU! I LOVED YOU CHRISTOPHER BANG! YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE LIKE A FUCKING ANGEL IN DISGUISE. FINALLY, I COULD BREATHE! I FOUND A WILL TO LIVE! I WAS ECSTATIC GENUINELY HAPPY TO BE WITH YOU. I WAS HOPING THAT ONE DAY WHEN WE GRADUATE, GET A JOB, GET A HOUSE TOGETHER, I WOULD MARRY YOU. I WOULD MAKE YOU THE HAPPIEST MAN ALIVE IN THIS WORLD! BUT NO! EVERYTHING WAS A FUCKING BET! EVERYTHING CAME CRUSHING DOWN ONCE AGAIN AND I WANTED TO DIE IF IT WASN’T FOR HYUNJIN HYUNG’S LAST WISH! I WANTED TO JUST JUMP OFF THE BRIDGE THE NIGHT I—,”

M/N stopped himself abruptly, his breath ragged from his outburst, tears streaming down his cheeks. He took a second to breathe, rethinking about that words he had retorted. M/N felt guilty. He shouldn’t have burst out to Bang Chan out of anger. He should’ve just ignored him like he had been for the past few weeks. He shouldn’t have made the impression that Bang Chan had made M/N think about suicide. No one was at fault but, him. M/N was at fault to even exist in the first place.

“M/N,” Bang Chan’s chest heaved with each sob, breath catching in irregular gasps. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unchecked and hot against his skin. His throat tightened, a lump forming that made it difficult to speak. In that moment, M/N felt his heart shatter into pieces. In all his years of living, someone was crying for him. No one should need to cry for him, especially Bang Chan. He didn’t know what he should do and so, M/N left the dorm room, leaving the sobbing one.

“Here, I got you water.” ChangBin sat on the Bang Chan’s bed as the latter hide himself under the covers. Bang Chan finally crawled out and took the water.

“Why are you here?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying for days but, in actually fact, it had only been a couple of hours since M/N left him.

“M/N came running to find me. He said that I should come here and take care of you.”

“He did?”

ChangBin nodded, handing over a warm towel to Bang Chan, “i assume you guys had a fight? None of your faces look any better. You look like a puffer fish and so did M/N just now. I’m surprise you guys can see the world with those swollen eyes.”

“I fucked up ChangBin. I fucked up so bad that i just wanna go back to the time i met M/N for the first time.” Bang Chan sniffled.

“That bad huh?”

“I love M/N, i really do. Even if it wasn’t a bet, I would’ve still fallen for M/N.”

“Finally.” ChangBin smiled, “took you so long to admit it. I apologise to M/N earlier on and explain to him the real reason behind the bet. If isn’t for our seniors who threaten us to make our college life miserable on the bet, we wouldn’t have done it. Surprisingly, M/N asked for the seniors names and when i told him, he was silent.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said those seniors had been after him for a while now. He mentioned something about them knowing the truth from their government parents. I didn’t understand him though, do you?”

“Wait, did you said government parents?”

“Yes.” ChangBin affirmed, “Tae-il sunbaenim’s parents are apart of the government ministers.”

“If they are government minister, it means they technically can know each and every person’s background don’t they?”

“Technically yes,”

“Oh no.”

“Woah, where are you going?” ChangBin was taken aback when Bang Chan practically fly out of his bed, grabbing his phone and putting on his shoes. “Can you at least explain something to me?”

“I need to find M/N. I need to talk to him. I need to apologise. I need,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, “I need M/N.”

“Oh, good luck.”

Bang Chan wasn’t gonna waste anytime because if his institution was right, he needs to find M/N fast. Upon knowing another truth, Bang Chan assume that Tae-il and his gang of friends knew about M/N’s past thus they might have been the ones with the intention to rape M/N all this while. This time, Bang Chan was determine to be save M/N. He needs to. He spammed M/N’s phone with calls and messages but to no avail, there was no response. He searched through the campus asking around if anyone had seen M/N but everyone looked at him in disgust instead. That was until Bang Chan came across a group of seniors in the hallway, he didn’t approach them but, he overheard their conversation that put him sick to the stomach.

“Damn was M/N good.”

“I would do him again.”

“Tae-il is making a fortune.”

“Fucking him was definitely better than a woman.”

“Though the location could be better. The gym storeroom smelled horrible.”

BINGO.

Bang Chan sprinted as fast as a wind to the gym storeroom. He was met with groups of people hanging outside the storeroom. Bang Chan ignored the calls from the people that had deemed to be his ‘friends’ as he stomped into the storeroom. His blood turns cold the moment he was met with what was happening. M/N was tied up in ropes and Bang Chan could see the friction burns underneath it. He was naked, blindfolded, body covered in bruises and blood. As if M/N was a doll, three people were doing the deed, raping him simultaneously on the front and back. Tae-il sat by them, on the chair, cigarettes in his hand smirking proudly as if he had done the best thing in the world.

“FUCK OFF!”

Rage was all he saw. He couldn’t think ahead as he lounge towards them. RED. That was all Bang Chan could see. He didn’t know how or what had happened but he felt someone pulling him away from Tae-il and he came into realisation. Tae-il lay on the floor a couple of feet away from M/N, beaten almost to death. He could hear ChangBin telling him that everything was okay now. No, it wasn’t. M/N was still blindfolded, unaware of what was happening, trembling and curling up on the ground. Bang Chan realised he couldn’t save M/N. He failed to save him.

“M/N?” Bang Chan’s hand trembled as he reached out to M/N. He released the ropes, covering M/N’s fragile frail with the blanket Lee Know had handed over. “M/N, its me. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Bang Chan removed the blindfold and M/N’s e/c orbs looked at him but, his heart shattered. M/N wasn’t crying neither did he show the intention to cry. His eyes wasn’t even watery to begin with. All M/N did was stare into Bang Chan’s teary eyes, lifelessly and Bang Chan broke down as he embraced M/N tightly.

What had he done?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Author’s Note: Apologies for the late update but, here it is! I might just add one last part to this! A happy ending? Or shall I wreck my own heart with a sad ending?

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

INSECURITY

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Friends to lovers, fluff, tipsy shenanigans (reader is tipsy, not Leon) Leon calls the reader Squirt. Let your imagination figure out why cause I just picked one at random.

Words: 340

Author’s Note: Day 4! A day late cause my mental state was not good yesterday!

INSECURITY - uncertainty or anxiety about oneself; lack of confidence.

“Y/N, you have definitely had too much to drink,” Leon mumbles, brushing a lock of brown hair from his eyes as he watches you spin around his apartment, soft giggles spilling from your lips as you shout the lyrics to the new Metro Station you have been obsessed with lately.

“Now if she does it like this, will you do it like that?” You sing, the sounds slurring together a bit, just enough for him to pay special attention to the blush dusting across your cheeks. “Now if she touches like this, will you touch her right back?”

“Y/N, you need to get some sleep. You’re gonna make yourself sick, spinning like that.” The agent's words fall on deaf ears, or so he thought at first. You almost immediately stop twirling, opting instead to begin dancing, your hips swinging as your arms circle in front of your chest, which is rising and falling in a pant.

“Dance with me, Leon!” You shout, arms reaching for his much larger frame.

“I don’t dance, Squirt. You know that.” It would be so easy to fall into your embrace, your giggles and singing possibly the best sound he’s ever heard. The only thing in the way is his pride.

“Come on! I won’t judge you! Please dance with me, Agent Kennedy!” Your tone is as sweet as honey, the swish of your hips as smooth as the whiskey he had the bar with you.

“Squirt, I don’t-” But he doesn’t get to finish. His best friend, the woman who he has harbored a crush on since Raccoon City, giggles and grips his wrists, pulling his hands from his jeans pockets and yanking his body forward until your noses practically brush when he glances down at you. Glazed eyes, pink cheeks, a soft smile pulling on those plush lips as you speak.

“It’s just me, Leon. What are you so afraid of?” Your words come out firm. Challenging.

What is he so afraid of?

“Nothing.” Then he leans down and plants his lips on yours.

[solitary-cutie]

Darkness to our light. Part IV

Part I

Part II

Part III

prompt: you and coriolanus are married, it's unbearable for you, but it will all end soon

contains: dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. fem!reader.

The guests were slowly gathering. While you were spending time with Tigris, Ginny appeared on the doorstep, just 40 minutes after the evening had started. It was a good thing she hadn't missed dinner after all. It was clear from her astonished look that this was the first time she had seen such gorgeous outfits in person. No, she had been invited to such events with famous personalities, but because she was so tired after work, the diligent teacher had no desire to be there. She didn't want to waste the evening on shallow, partly lustful, greedy and proud empty human shells with a bag of money over their shoulders.

Coriolanus was not in the hall at this time, nor were Father Sejanus and Mr. Highbottom. You frowned and became uneasy, but Ginny, Tigris, and Sejanus, who had come up with a glass of whiskey, were nearby.

“Sanitizing before consumption?” You laughed. Sejan glanced at you with a frown and annoyed smile. By the way, it was funny. “Literally pouring it over your collar. Does your family have such fondness for drinking ?” Silent. “Come on, I didn't know. Well, it's not for me to judge, as they say!” continued with Tigris and Ginny laughing.

“Oh, Grandma’am needs me, I’ll be in a second!” Your Lord's gentle sister whispered, rustling her purple dress loudly because of her quick footsteps.

“Aren't you tired of being a clown?” Sejanus asked trying to be sarcastic but because of his habit of directness, it didn't work for him

“No, thank you for being concerned.”

The loud voices of Grandma’am and her other elderly friends from Capitol were heard singing the Panem hymn in the hall.

“Oh, you're sitting next to that tipsy madam and her friends, by the way.” You warned Ginny.

“Don’t I sit next to you?”

“I'd like to...” You looked away.

“Then sit with me, what's the problem? - Ginny asked, frowning.”

“I can't, the rules don't allow it, we have stupid etiquette here.” Not wanting to hear the answer, you took two glasses of red wine, one of which you handed to your teacher-guest. “Drink and relax! You're much easier to talk to when you're relaxed!”

And then the trio that had been absent all this time entered the hall. There were no smiles on their faces, but rather deep thought. You noticed the quick, blank glances Coryo was throwing in Sejanus' direction. Yes, that's right, He had always tolerated him, didn't even consider him a friend. It all made sense.

While He stood off to the side, talking to Dr. Gaul, Grandma’am, and Mr. Highbottom, you secluded yourself in a corner with Sejanus and Ginny. Three stragglers sipping cocktails and discussing revolutionary ideas.

“On what basis does the principle of elites exist, please explain?” Sejanus asked.

“You and I have been discussing this for the last time.” You replied, smiling, pronouncing the last syllable with a gasp.

“We are discussing it because you do not recognize my right that the formation of the elite and those who are behind it, i.e. people deprived of any rights, is inhuman and so in the spirit of our state, although you position yourself against the established regime.”

“You reason within the bounds of conscience and morality, and divine morality at that.” You laughed.

“No, we are all equal by nature, we are all born without money debts, with equal potential, just someone has more money, so he can afford not only school education, so he is considered smart, and therefore, the elite, and someone has nothing.”

“Yes, the downers are now and other people with deviations from the right foot are sent to hell.”

Several people turned around at your scolding. You were embarrassed. Again. But what can you do if you like to swear? Although someone once told you that the amount of swearing in the vocabulary depends on the level of fatigue... by this logic, suicidal people on the eve of tragedy should communicate only on crystal mate.

“You're trying to get off the subject. Of course, they are a different topic of conversation...”

“No," You interrupted Sejanus, "if you're going to talk about it, then be specific. If a dun is born into a well-to-do family, then with enough investment and effort, they will be indistinguishable from a person with a normal number of chromosomes. They'll be smarter than Arachne's idiot," they both chuckled. Gossipers, that's what being in the elite is all about.

“And yet, a poor family with enough investment of effort will raise an equally normal child. But children from well-to-do families won't let them break through, even if they are an outstanding geniuses.”

“I don't agree at all," you shook your head. “History proves the opposite. The same Leonardo da Vinci, born in the affair of his father, an aristocrat and a peasant woman. He grew up to be a genius, though he spent the first part of his childhood living with peasants who didn't care about your arguments about elites and education.”

“That's the exception.”

“Paganini? Or is this the second exception that somehow fucking proves your rule?”

“Look," Ginny finally intervened, "Sean comes from a family of politicians, and he's talking about inequality?”

“It's a paradox that we always talk about, word for word, at every party.” The mistress of the evening muttered, ignoring the astonished looks of the guests.

Sejanus was about to reply, but his father's sonorous voice distracted him. He withdrew and the girls were left alone. Ginny and you looked at each other, smiled embarrassedly, and then ran their eyes around the room, only to hide their gaze somewhere else. It seemed to them both, the beauty of the one standing across from them was incomparable to anything. You eere in a fitted blue dress with very wide sleeves and a puffy crinoline, wearing what you considered tasteless silver jewelry, because you hated that metal, with a hateful scent of roses, and standing surrounded by those same flowers, which He adored, and moreover, grew himself. And Ginny... in a stunning black dress that showed off her trim frame, she was a gymnast, for sure. It was simple, not flashy like everyone else's, but so elegant and beautiful. Just when Ginny wanted to say something nice to you, the bell rang. It was Mr. Snow.

“My dear guests," He found you, his cold eyes fixed on your face, making freeze to him. At the same moment, you hurried to be beside him, as a hostess should, “My wife and I will be glad to invite you to the table. I suggest that we continue to talk about everything over a meal, except politics, of course, or we'll all poison each other.”

The room reacted with restrained laughter. The men landed hands to their ladies, following the example of the Lord and Lady of the evening, and followed them to a table set with food for every taste. The abundance of colorful food, ranging from brightly colored vegetables, various kinds of meat to alcohol and desserts, abundantly watered with syrup, whetted everyone's appetite. The cutlery sparkled under the refracted rays from the crystal stones on the chandelier, and the multicolored plates with fancy patterns were like mirrors, so diligently cleaned by the assistants. The master felt proud. He pushed back a chair, tending to his wife, seating her beside him as befitted a mistress, before sitting down himself.

“Bon appetite to everyone.”

You glanced at Tigris sitting across from you, holding back a chuckle. The two of you always had fun together. His sister made a pained grimace, pointing her eyes under the table, at her shoes. You nodded understandingly, but Tigris nodded again, a little more steeply. Perplexed, looking down, amazed eyes. Tigris took off her high heels and dangled her feet under the table, urging her brother's chosen one to follow suit. It became awkward. "Grandma’am is next to you!" you pointed out with a glare and received rolled eyes and a wicked grimace with the tip of her tongue sticking out. You glanced quickly at your husband, absorbed in conversation with Mr. Highbottom and Sejanus's father under Dr. Gaul's curiously frantic gaze. After thinking for a moment, you followed Tigris' example and kicked off the hated heels that squeezed your forefingers. Relief. Tigris' smirk.

“Hopefully, under your careful guidance, the broadcast and the games themselves will improve each year so that our spectators and themselves will get a feel for the arena.” Coriolanus spoke softly, as if to address Dr. Gaul's remark, but looking into Highbottom's eyes.

“My husband loves not only spicy food, but also acute experience, so he offers them to others!” You joked, getting a dozen chuckles from the confirmation of the abundance of spicy food on the table.

“And so I found one who will share with me not only my aspirations, sickness and health, sorrow and happiness, but also acutes.”

So many puns could make you sick.

“Don't forget that everyone wants a thrill at least once! “ Shouted one of the guests Ginny was talking to.

“There's a new addition to the Sejanus Legion!” And so Ginny joined in on the wave of excitement.

“Explain it, sweetheart!” The other guest laughed.

To Sejanus, the Lord and Lady of the evening the second before her answer seemed like an eternity. Sejan's father glanced absent-mindedly at the unfamiliar guest and then at his son.

“Let's give an acutes not only to the Capitol, but to the Districts as well! What equality!”

The people at the table looked at each other. Everyone was noticeably quiet, still fiddling with their plates. Most looked at Sejanus and his father with open incomprehension or even annoyance. How could it be? The cream of the crop and in favor of equality? What heresy! What could this girl possibly know about you? Someone laughed openly.

Coriolanus immediately looked at you, meeting your gaze. And then He realized that now, for the only time during your interactions, your marriage and his observation of you in general, he had not grasped the essence of your actions. That was why you had joined the conversation so actively. That's why you had complained so much to Ginny about your life. That's why you were letting her listen to their conversations with Sejanus. Binding her, disposing her, showing her trust to take advantage of her at one point. That's why you taught her to mock Sejanus right in front of him, not behind his back. That was why you had invited her to dinner, why you had seated her next to the chatty, elderly ladies, who made up stories about their grandsons or daughters passionate love for poor, unhappy couple whose role Jeannie was apt to play. That's why you were getting the girl drunk, to make it all easier to pull off.

You knew everything. You learned everything from him.

[truthfulpoint]

Sex on the Beach

Slowly, but surely, this cruise was turning into a disaster. I had booked the trip to celebrate my recent tenure as a professor and also to spend some time with Jessica after long months of being cooped up with my research. Now the paper was submitted, and the initial reviews were very promising.

The boat was beautiful and the crew had great attention to detail. The food was fantastic and the other people on the boat seemed pretty nice for the most part. They were obviously way richer than me and Jessica were. I had basically used all the money from the research award I won for my last major paper to pay for the trip.

But somehow Jessica was in a foul mood. She stayed on deck with a book most of the time and didn’t partake in many of the activities that the crew organized for their guests. There, she was usually joined by a man of about 50 or so years by the name of John. John was constantly on his phone or hacking into a laptop and hardly seemed to notice the beautiful surroundings of the Greek islands.

John’s wife Veronica was much younger than her husband was, I guessed about 34 or 35. She had to look of a typical trophy wife with lots of time for manicures, pedicures, Pilates and appointments at the hairdresser. Initially that had put me off, but when I chatted with her, I was actually surprised that I quite enjoyed her company. She was a physical therapist and worked part time in an institution for children that needed rehabilitation after accidents. They apparently didn’t need the money, judging by his watches, John seemed to be richer than God, but it gave her a sense of purpose and fulfillment.

As we both were often flying solo for the group activities, we naturally gravitated towards each other. We chatted a lot over the first few days of the trip and got to know each other pretty well.

———-

One evening, after another delicious dinner on the beach, Jessica got up and said: “ I’m tired. I’ll go to bed. Don’t come too late, please. And don’t drink so much wine, it makes you snore.”

“ yes ma’am” I snapped, in an effort to lighten the mood. But Jessica just glared at me.

Embarrassed and angry, I turned to my glass of wine. What was going on? Why was Jessica so angry with me?

“Another evening all by our lonesome?” said Veronica as she walked over from the table where she had been sitting. She seemed a little tipsy.

“Yep. You too?”

“Yes. He’s already back on that damn computer.”

Maybe more than just a little…

She took a big gulp out of her wine glass.

“ I’m sorry”

“ You don’t need to be sorry. He should be!”

Another big gulp. Veronica seemed angry and determined to get very drunk.

“ He used to be different. He was always a hard worker, but when we were dating, he somehow always managed to find the time for a weekend away or a fancy restaurant.”

Another gulp finished the glass. One of the stewards quickly came by and filled it up again.

“ Now he seems married to his work. Some evenings he doesn’t even come home.”

Half the glass gone again.

“Or maybe he’s fucking his secretary. I don’t know. But I couldn’t care less. It’s not like I’m missing out on much.”

Ouch. Low blow.

“I mean, for real, he couldn’t even get it up without the little blue pills on the best of days. And now he’s so absent-minded with me, that he probably couldn’t tell my butt from my boobs”

Oh man. This woman was angry.

“ Well, why are you still with him?”

“ I don’t know. I guess it’s comfortable. I have to admit that I’ve gotten used to the finer things in life. He also donates a ton of money to the children’s rehab center where I work. That would probably dry up if we get divorced. And that would really suck.”

“Hmmm...” I didn’t really know what to say. “We should probably get to bed.”

She chugged her drink. She was very drunk now.

“Can I stay with you tonight? You’re cute.”

“I think you should return to your cabin and sleep it off, Veronica. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Adam. Sweet dreams”

Walking over the beach back to the boat, I couldn’t get Veronica’s words out of my head - “you’re cute”. She was more than cute. She was beautiful. And the more time I spent with her, the more I felt myself drawn to here.

That night, I did not sleep well. I tossed and turned, awaking often. Every time I woke up, my thoughts immediately returned to Veronica.

———-

The next morning, Veronica showed up to breakfast with a pair of large dark sunglasses and washed down three aspirin with her green tea.

———

Later that day, we had a guided tour of some ancient ruins. Of course, Jessica and John stayed on the boat. During the tour Veronica motioned me to stay back a little.

She hooked her arm under mine and started talking. “Hey Adam. About last night. I think I said a lot of stupid stuff. I was angry and a little drunk. Can we keep this to ourselves?”

“Of course “

“ I mean, I didn’t really mean it. At least most of it.”

“Which part did you mean?”

She squirmed a little and laughed nervously.

“well, I seem to remember that I might have mentioned that I thought you were cute? That part’s actually true”

“I’m flattered. I don’t often get compliments from drunk married women.”

“Now you’re being mean. I just repeated it, and I’m totally sober. Just very hung over.” She laughed and pulled herself closer to me, holding on to my arm.

I have to admit, it felt good to be complimented by a beautiful woman. I suddenly noticed how much I missed being touched. Things between Jessica and me had been pretty cooled down for a while now.

I brushed the thought aside, and we rejoined the group.

————-

The the next day was a beach day. We all chilled under the parasols and pavilions the crew had set up and enjoyed piña coladas and watermelons.

Veronica wore a white bikini that I hadn’t seen yet. After a week under the Mediterranean sun, she was quite tanned, and the white bikini complimented her bronze skin. When she went for a swim and came back out of the water, I had flashbacks of Ursula Endres coming out of the water in that James Bond movie. Hot!

I also went for a swim, but pretty soon had to stop because my shoulder and neck started to hurt. When I came out of the water, I was massaging my neck and wincing with pain. Veronica noticed me.

“What’s the matter? Hurt yourself?”

“ I don’t know. I went for a swim, and I had this strong pain going from my neck to my shoulder.”

“Want me to take a look at it? You’re a little bigger than my normal patients, but the basic mechanics are the same.”

“Sure, thank you!”

She sat me down on the edge of one of the deck chairs and started to examine my neck and shoulders with her hands. Admittedly, I quite enjoyed that. Probably more than I should.

She manipulated my arm and shoulder and stroked different muscles in my neck. The pain started to ease a little, but I hoped she would keep going for a little while longer.

“You are very tense. Probably from all that work hunched over a computer. I can show you some exercises that should help your neck and shoulder mobility”

For some reason, her hand was still resting on my pectoral muscle. I looked at it and she withdrew it, however, not without lightly brushing over my nipple in the process. I felt my nipple harden and blood rushing to my groin. She noticed it too, and gave me a little smile.

———

In the afternoon we were back on the boat. I was heading to the bathroom, which happened to be in a very tight corner of the upper deck. As walked I towards the door, it opened and Veronica emerged. The entry was so tight that we couldn’t avoid brushing against each other. As we were both still in swim clothes, a lot of skin touched. I had the impression that neither of us tried to minimize that contact.

————

That night I woke from a dream. I didn’t remember any details, but I clearly had the searing image of Veronica in her white bikini in my head. I was sporting a capital boner.

Jessica was sleeping next to me. I glanced over at her and then started to masturbate. I closed my eyes and imagined Veronica in her white bikini coming towards me. Taking the bikini off and giving me a free view of her perfect boobs. Cut. Veronica, reaching for my boner. Cut. Veronica rubbing my cock with her perfectly manicured hands. Cut. Veronicas mouth closing around the head of my cock. Cut. Veronica giving me a sloppy blowjob. Cut. Veronica turning around, spreading her butt cheeks and whispering “ I want you to fuck me in the ass” Cut. My dick in Veronica’s ass. Cut. My dick pumping cum into Veronica’s ass.

With that image, I came. Hard. Cum rained on my stomach and my chest. My cock twitched and a pool of cum gathered on my belly.

Jessica raised her head. “ what’s going on?” She asked sleepily.

“Nothing. I just had a vivid dream and moved around. Go back to sleep.”

I got up and went to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up with a towel and looked at myself in the mirror, slightly embarrassed. Not only had I fantasized about a married woman. While my girlfriend was laying next to me. Also, I had never been into anal sex, but that fantasy sent me right over the edge. I wasn’t sure that I could look Veronica in the eye tomorrow.

—————

As luck would have it, Veronica joined us at our breakfast table the next morning. I had the impression that Jessica didn’t like Veronica particularly well. But I decided to ignore it.

I grinned at her sheepishly and tried to make the most boring conversation ever. She looked at me puzzled.

“Final day in paradise, huh?”

“Yeah I can’t believe the 10 days are already over”

“ Well, Adam, it was very nice to get to know you and for you to keep me such good company during the excursions”

What was she doing? Jessica was sitting right next to us.

“Uhm, yeah. There were quite a few nice people on this boat.” I tried to downplay and defuse the situation.

“Yes, but very few as nice and gentle…manlike as you. I hope to see you later!”

And with that, she walked away, swaying her hips just a little too much for Jessica not to notice.

———-

When we got to our cabin, I could sense that Jessica was fuming. We had hardly closed the door when she went at me:

“ What was that bimbo all about? Thanks for keeping me such good company? Nice and gentle? What the fuck?”

I didn’t know what to say. “Hey, Veronica is not a bimbo, she’s actually pretty nice”

“Yeah seems like it. More than nice from what I can see”

Well, that maybe wasn’t the best thing to start with.

“What do you expect me to do? You never wanted to come to these activities. Most of the other guests went as couple, so obviously the two people abandoned by the partners kind of stuck together.”

Not helping things…

“I didn’t abandon you. I just wasn’t feeling like doing these stupid excursions anyway. This entire trip was all about you, and your fancy research award. Look, I’m Adam, the neuroscience hot shot.”

Ouch.

“Baby, where is this coming from? I booked this trip for us!”

“You booked this trip for you!”

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time. What can I do?”

“I don’t know. I need some space”

“Ok baby. No problem. I’ll go and come find you later”

“No, I mean more permanently. I think I don’t want you in my life, at least for a while”

“Baby, what the hell?”

“When we get back to London, I think I will stay with my sister for a while”

I was dumbstruck. Without another word, I turned around and left the cabin.

On deck, I ran into Veronica.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Everything ok?”

“No everything is not OK! Jessica and I just broke up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!”

“You’re sorry? You’re part of the reason! If you hadn’t done your little show this morning, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Is that so? Well, if you ask me, your relationship has to be in a pretty bad place if one tiny flirt manages to break it”

She probably had a point, but I was not willing to admit that just yet.

“Stay away from me.”

—————-

Lunch was on the beach that day again. For me it was a sad affair, as I sat alone, sulking in a corner.

Veronica came up to me.

“Can we talk?”

“Hm, okay”

“I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have done that. Even if I stay by my point that such a stunt could never derail a healthy relationship “

“Yeah, you’re probably right “

“The fact of the matter is that I see us as mirror images. Both stuck in sorta crappy relationships. And…”

“What and?”

“Nevermind. Why were you looking at me so funny this morning?”

“Nevermind”

“You tell me your’s, I tell you mine…”

“Okay, okay. But you go first.”

“Ok, here goes. I thought we were both stuck in sucky relationships. And that I would much rather be with someone like you. Well, you specifically.”

“Oh, wow!”

“Yeah, I know. It’s confusing. I probably have to sleep on this a bit. But I definitely have a bad crush on you.”

She blushed. “Now tell me your’s”

“Ok, whatever. I had a dream about you “

“A sex dream?”

“Uhm, yup” I blushed.

“Was it good?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“Did we make out? Did we sleep together?”

“Well, sort of”

“Did you cum in your dream?”

“No, not in the dream”

“What do you mean, not in the dream”

I squirmed under the interrogation. “Well, afterwards “

“Afterwards? What do you mean? Did you jack off thinking of me?”

My head was probably red as a tomato now. “Hm, yeah, kind of”

“Oh, wow. I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered… but it is kind of hot to think that I make you horny.” She giggled.

“It was just a dream! These things happen all the time!”

“Well, why don’t we try if was really ‘just a dream’?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come with me”

She took my hand and we walked away from the tables to a small secluded bay behind some rocks. Veronica undid the Pareo she had been wearing and spread it on the sand. Underneath, she wore that bedeviled white bikini.

“Adam, I am so sorry. I’ve been a bad girl”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ve been really bad. I think I deserve some punishment “

“Are you kidding me?”

“No Adam. You need to show me my place”

With that, she walked up to me and pinched my nipple.

“Ouch”

“Oh, so sorry. Let me make it better.”

She stepped up to me, pressed her body against me and started gently licking the pinched nipple. A familiar tingling traveled from there up and down my spine. Blood rushed to my groin. I gave in.

“You are right, you have been bad” I said with a raspy voice.

“Yes Adam”

“But I don’t believe in punishment.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I believe in showing the right way” With that I grabbed her hair and started gently, but firmly pulling it down. Her face came up, and I started kissing her greedily. I kissed her mouth, her chin, her neck. Her breathing accelerated.

I let go of her hair and unclasped her bikini top. Her tits sprang free. Glorious, glorious tits. I pinched one of her nipples. Pretty hard.

“A little payback”

She gasped from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

She untied the string of my shorts and let my cock spring free. She wrapped her hand around its base and started stroking. I had a flashback to my dream. This was just like it, but a million times better.

She kneeled down and put my cock in her mouth. Pretty soon, she was giving me a deep, sloppy blowjob.

I needed more. I needed her. I pulled her up. I turned her around and bent her over one of the nearby rocks. Her hips and ass swayed in front of the cock glistening from her saliva. I grabbed her round ass and pushed myself inside her. Her pussy was soaking wet and my dick slid in and out with ease. I started to thrust into her. All the pent up anger and frustration over the trip, the breakup, about Jessica went into my pushes. I fucked her hard.

“Yes, yes, yes” - little screams of pleasure came out of her mouth

“Is this just like your dream?”

“Almost” I gasped between to panting breaths.

“What’s different?”

“In the dream I was fucking your ass”

“Oh, do you want to do that?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never really done it. “

She bent over a little further, put her hands on her butt cheeks, and spread them a little.

“Adam, I want you to fuck me in the ass”

I was stunned. What was happening?

I pulled my cock out of her pussy. It twitched and glistened from her juices. I hesitated. Veronica reached around and placed the tip of my cock on her anus.

“Come on! Take me just like in your dream!”

I pushed forward. My glistening tip, lubricated with her juices pushed past the initial resistance. I heard Veronica take in a sharp breath, as she adjusted to the new sensation. I started to slowly push into her. The sensation was phenomenal. I started moving back and forth. Feeling her tight muscles gripping my cock, hearing her heavy breaths, and seeing my dick disappear inside her caused a rush of arousal and excitement. I realized I would come very quickly like this.

“Veronica, I don’t know how long I’ll last like this.”

“Don’t worry about it. This one’s for you”

As if her words had unlocked something, I felt my orgasm build. A powerful wave of lust and excitement washed over me and triggered my dick to explode into Veronica’s ass. She felt the pulses of my orgasm, and pushed her butt back, taking my cock all the way in. There she stayed, just lightly swaying , until she felt that my penis stopped twitching.

I pulled my dick out, panting. She got up and turned around to me. Her hand on my cheek, she kissed me sensually.

“THAT was not a dream.”

———-

After we had calmed down and gotten dressed again, we went back to our table. The steward spotted us and asked if we wanted to drink anything.

Veronica smiled: “I’ll have a Sex on the Beach, please”