#Hum FM

[withwritersblock]

Kiwi pt. 2

~Kiwi by Harry Styles~

Part one Author's Note: you guys wanted a part 2 so you shall receive a part 2 but I never said that you shall receive a happy ending tehehee Summary: Quinn wants something more than a summer fling Warnings: some brief smut, barely anything but still there! Word Count: 3,439 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

Quinn had been flustered all day. It seemed like every hour passed and she was sending over photos and messages of her plans for the night. His phone was constantly held to his chest, protecting over the seductive photos constantly being sent to him. His body was constantly hot and he kept finding himself jumping into the lake to try and cool off. The boys could tell something was off, he barely spoke the whole time and his gaze was constantly on his phone.

They knew it had to do with Y/N. They knew that he was head over heels for her and Quinn wouldn’t let himself admit it. Not only was she the most attractive girl he’s ever met. But she was the greatest girl he’s ever met. She was funny, kind, and sexy and she knew it. He loved a confident girl and damn she was confident.

He was awkward and a relationship guy but they made a promise to each other to have a fling. But she was also a relationship girl and she was freaking out that the single greatest summer of her life was coming to an end. Which is why she wanted to make it perfect. 

He was waiting in his room for her to come over. He was sprailed out on his bed, picturing the photos she had continued to send him all day. He was flustered and in extreme need of her in his bed, naked. Every few seconds, he would turn his phone screen on waiting for her text saying that she was here but nothing.

He was starting to get paranoid that she was not going to come over. She said that she would be at his house by eight and it was ten after. It was supposed to be the last hurrah. But he hated the idea that this was ending. He was definitely falling for her and it would be impossible for them to continue after this weekend.

He lived in Vancouver and she lived in St. Louis. It wouldn’t work. Especially since they weren’t even in anything official. It wouldn’t make sense. He knew that but he couldn’t stop thinking about what if they could make it work.

He was willing to fly her out every weekend, but he wasn’t sure that she would be willing to do that. A relationship that starts long distance was definitely not ideal but he was falling for her.

She was laying facing the window, still asleep but he was slowly gliding his fingertips along the curve of her frame. Delicately, he brushed her hair away from her face as he slowly started glided his fingers from her jawline, down her neck across her shoulder; down the curve of her side. His hand slowly glided across her hip. 

After a few seconds, she stirred and slowly rolled onto her back. Y/N pulled the blanket against her chest as her eyes opened softly. A small smile formed to he lips once she met his gaze.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he looked over her features. Taking a deep breath, she reached her hand over and delicately ran her hand over his shoulder and down his bicep. 

“Good morning, pretty boy,” she mumbled as she looked into his eyes. He reached his hand over and rested his hand onto her cheek. He ran his thumb across the apple of her cheek. Her eyes shut as she tilted her head into his hand. “How long have you been awake?”

He chuckled softly. “A while,” he mumbled. “But you were pretty busy last night so I decided to let you sleep in–”

Her mouth fell open as she shoved him back, laughing. “Jerk,” she muttered while smiling. He hummed while stifling a laugh. Taking in a deep breath, she scanned his features as she continued to hold his arm as she ran her thumb across his bicep. 

“What are you all doing today?” he asked as he scanned her features. She pressed her lips together as she squinted her eyes slightly.

“Not sure,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side. “Probably just going to hang in our pool,” she explained as she continued to look into his eyes. He nodded as he looked over her features. “And then go dancing,” she elaborated. He nodded again while pursing his lips forward.

“Dancing?” he questioned. She smirked as she hummed, “Like at a club?” he asked as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She hummed again. 

“What are you guys doing today?” she asked as she glided her hand up his shoulder, she slowly ran her fingers through his hair. He cleared his throat as he nodded.

“Uh–uhm I think we’re going to the club tonight,” he said as he fought off a smirk. She chuckled as she rolled her eyes. 

“Oh really?” she questioned teasingly. He nodded dramatically. “Quinn Hughes at a night club?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” he whined out as he pouted for a second. “I dance,” he let out while chuckling. 

“Really?” she asked while smirking. 

“I find that very offensive,” he said as he took a hold of her waist and ran his thumb across her skin, “I am a great dancer.” 

“Well, I would love to see that,” she said as she slowly sat up, holding the blanket against her chest. He smirked as he laid on his back as he looked up towards her. She began to slide out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched her walk around the bed towards her bathroom.

“I was going to shower,” she explained as she pushed the door open. “Wanna join me?” she asked teasingly. Without an ounce of hesitation he whipped the comforter away from his frame as he followed her towards the bathroom. A giggle fell from her lips as she walked into the bathroom. Quickly, he rested his hands onto her waist as he guided her inside.

His phone vibrated beside him and it was a text from Y/N. His eyes widened as he read the text that she was waiting outside of the house. He smirked as he quickly, climbed off of the bed. He walked out of the door and started walking towards the stairs. Walking past Luke who was walking out of his room.

He chuckled as he walked towards the bathroom. Quinn rolled his eyes as he climbed down the stairs. Jack and Trevor were sitting in the living room, looking towards Quinn. “Big night?” Trevor teased.

Quinn rolled his eyes as he walked towards the door and pulled it open. She was standing outside of the door, awkwardly holding a bottle of wine. Quinn smiled once he saw her. He tilted his head to the side as he allowed her to step inside. Y/N’s eyes landed on Trevor and Jack sitting on the couch.

“Hey Y/N,” Trevor and Jack said at the same time. She smiled politely as she met Quinn’s gaze and he quickly rested his hand onto the small of her back. 

“Let’s go,” Quinn mumbled as he forced a tight lip smile towards the boys on the couch. She hummed as they both climbed up the steps. “I’m sorry about them,” he mumbled. She muffled a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as they turned the corner towards his room. Quinn quickly shut the door and twisted the lock. He looked down towards her as he took a hold of the wine bottle and delicately placed it onto the night stand. 

Quinn stepped towards her as he looped his hands around her waist. She smiled softly as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath as she met his eye.

“Hey baby,” he whispered as he glided his hands up her shirt, already so desperate to feel her skin. 

“Hey,” she mumbled as she lowered her gaze towards his lips. She took a deep breath as she felt her heart start to beat faster. “Can’t believe this is the last time we’ll be doing this,” she mumbled as she started gliding her fingers through his hair. 

“I know,” he mumbled as he pulled her towards him, a giggle fell from her lips as her arms wrapped around his neck. He leaned towards her, kissing her desperately. She smiled into the kiss. 

Stumbling backwards, she quickly kicked off her heels as he guided her towards the mattress. She pulled away from his lips as she looked into his eyes deeply. He leaned towards her, kissing her so softly. A soft hum fell from her lips. He leaned back as he took a hold of the ends of his shirt and pulled it over his frame. 

She smiled as she looked over his body; his muscles tensed as the cold air hit his skin. Slowly, she glided her hands over his skin. He scanned her features as she continued to feel his skin erupt in goosebumps under her touch. 

“I’m going to miss this,” she whispered as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. He smiled softly as he took in a sudden breath.

“Me too,” he muttered as he tightened his grip around her waist. “I’m gonna miss this–” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his lips against her cheek slowly. He slowly began to trail his lips down her neck. Tilting her head back, she giggled as he continued to kiss her skin. Her breathing started to pick up as his hands started to hike up her shirt. 

“Wait, wait–” she said while laughing. He pulled his head back, while grinning. She glided her hand against his chest. His gaze flickered all over her features as his was slightly breathless. A small smirk formed to her lips, “Sit,” she let out softly. 

His eyes widened as his lips curled upward. His body instantly ran hot and he was dizzy. Swallowing hard, he listened and sat down on the mattress. She stepped back, a teasing smirk on her lips. 

“You’ve been very patient today,” she began as she took a hold of her jean shorts. She unbutton them and slowly glided them down her frame. Kicking them away, she stepped towards him. Quinn bit his bottom lip as he tried to stop the grin forming to his lips. 

His eyes trailed her frame, watching the t-shirt hike up as she brushed her hair off of her shoulders. He could see the lace dark blue underwear on her frame. “Fuck,” he muttered as he raised his gaze up to meet her eye. Pursing her lips forward, slowly she climbed onto his lap. Quinn’s hands hovered in the air, trying to decide if he was allowed to touch her.

Her hands rested on the base of his neck as she leaned towards him, kissing him slowly. He hummed against her lips as she slowly grinded against his lap. Several seconds passed before he took a hold of her shirt and began to pull it up her frame. Pulling her lips away from his, she assisted him and tossed it towards the floor. 

His eyes were admiring her body, the matching lace bra. His hands hovered in the air again, in awe of the woman in front of him. He let out a huff of air as his eyes met her gaze. “Wow,” he mumbled. She smirked as she leaned towards him kissing him desperately again. His hands rested on the curve of her ass as she continued to grind against his lap. 

“What if–” he mumbled against her lips, “What if this isn’t the end of us?” he asked. 

“What?” she let out as she pulled away from him. Her hands were still rested onto the base of his neck. His hands glided up and rested them onto the small of her back. 

“What if we try the whole long distance thing?” 

He glided his callased hands across her breasts as he began to suck on her bottom lip. A gasp fell from her lips. Slowly, Quinn trailed wet kisses down her neck. He began to suck her skin, circling his tongue against the hot skin. He delicately bit her skin. Tilting her head back as her fingers ran through his hair.

He quickly took a hold of her breast as he took her nipple into his mouth. He began sucking and biting against the sensitive skin. “Oh fuck,” she mumbled breathlessly.

He hummed against her skin, causing her entire body to erupt in goosebumps. He slowly began to twist her other nipple between his fingers as her hands glided along his upper back. “Quinn, please,” she let out. A grin formed to his lips as he pulled away from her breast. 

He began to trail wet kisses down her stomach, she began to squirm under his touch. Quickly, he pinned her hip against the bed as looked up towards her as if asking for permission. She nodded while gripping the sheets beside her. 

“What do you need, baby?” he asked teasingly as he pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh. His thumb brushed against her clit teasingly, watching her buck her hips towards his hand. He smirked as he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. 

“Please–” she muttered, her mind was all over the place; words were impossible. He smirked as he applied more pressure against her clit as he started circling slowly. He pressed his lips against her thighs as he kissed closer to her center. 

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled as she squinted her eyes shut. He dipped two fingers into her center, causing a moan to fall from her lips. He smirked as he admired her. He curled his fingers inside her as he continued to play with her wetness. 

He pressed his lips against her skin before he leaned down and took her clit into his mouth, he began sucking and swirling his tongue. Her stomach was tightening as her fingers found his hair. “Oh my god,” she muttered as she pressed her lips together.

“Talk to me, baby, what do you need?” Quinn asked against her center as he pulled his fingers from her center. A smirk on his lips as he looked up towards her again watching her squirm under his touch. 

“I don’t know, just don’t stop,” she forced out. He chuckled, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Are you serious?” she asked as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair. He nodded slowly. Furrowing her eyebrows, she scanned his features. “What are you–where is this coming from?” she asked as she looked into his eyes so desperately. 

“Where is this coming from?” he asked while laughing softly. He shook his head as his hands glided away from her frame. He rested them onto the mattress behind him. “We’ve spent literally every day together for the last two months and you think this is just some idea I had right now?” he questioned. 

She took in a deep breath as she looked over his features. “Quinn, we had rules,” she whined out as her hands landed onto his cheeks. 

“I know,” he muttered.

“No! Summer fling, no feelings. Just sex, that was the rules,” Y/N said as she looked into his eyes. “You live in Canada for fuck sake.” she whined, a small pout on her lips. He smirked as he fought a chuckle climbing in his throat. 

“I know,” he let out as his eyes widened slightly.

“And tonight was supposed to be our last time–”

“It doesn’t have to–”

“It was supposed to amazing. We were supposed to be amazing but no you made it weird!” she whined as she climbed off of his lap. His eyes widened as he watched her pace back and forth slightly. It was impossible not to admire the way her body looked with the blue lacy set on her frame. She shifted her gaze towards him, watching him stare towards her. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re the one wearing a very ho–hot underwear okay?!” he said while chuckling. He stood up, adjusting the sweatpants on his frame. “Like really hot, is this new?” he mumbled as he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. Her eyes widened as she clenched her jaw. His mouth fell open as he fought a grin.

“Quinn!” she said while chuckling.

“You cannot tell me this hasn’t been the best summer of your life,” he let out as he took another step towards her. Clenching her jaw, she looked into his eyes.

“Best summer is pushing it,” she mumbled as she smirked. She took a deep breath as she took a step towards him. “Why are you making it weird by bringing up a relationship?” she asked as she continued to look into his eye. 

“Weird or are you scared that you might actually like me enough to want one?” he asked as he looped his arms around her waist to pull her towards him.

“Quinn,” she let out softly as she kept her hands to herself. 

Lifting his hand up, he took a hold of her chin, forcing her to fully meet his eye. Quinn glided his thumb across her jaw as he looked over her features. 

“I had plans for tonight, dirty sexy plans and you ruined them,” she said while frowning. He smiled while he stifled a laugh. “One last time with a lot of things that would’ve made you a very happy man but you are ruining it!” she explained while fighting a grin of her own. 

“You know what’s crazy about relationships? You can do dirty sexy plans all of the time,” he explained as he leaned towards her trying to kiss her. 

She pulled back and stepped away from him as she crossed her arms over her chest. He tilted his head back as he stared towards the ceiling. “See it wouldn’t be all the time because you live in Vancouver and I live in St. Louis! This would never work, Quinn!” she said while shaking her head. 

“We can try! We work so well together! You even said that you’re not a hook up person, I’m not either! We can try this!” he reached towards her but she held her hands up defensively. Slowly, she chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly fully aware that she had no clothes on. 

She reached down and took a hold of her t-shirt and pulled it over her frame. Quickly, she found her shorts as well and began to pull them up her frame. “What are you doing?” he asked as he scanned her now clothed frame. 

Buttoning her jean shorts, she shook her head again. “We had rules Quinn,” she let out barely above a whisper as she looked into his eyes. “We had rules, no feelings,” she muttered as she felt her chest get heavy. He stepped towards her, his gaze dipping towards her lips. 

“And how well is that going for you?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

“We can’t,” she mumbled as she stepped away from him, taking a deep breath. Quinn reached towards her, pulling her back towards him. He kissed her urgently as her hands found his hair. He gripped her shirt, desperate for it to be off of her frame again. 

Pulling away, she was breathing heavy as their nose bumped into one another. After another second, she reluctantly stepped away from him. Quinn’s hands slowly slipped from her frame as she walked towards the door.

“Goodbye Quinn,” she mumbled as she took a hold of her shoes and started walking out of his room. She shut it delicately behind herself. 

He stood in the center of the room staring at the door. Blinking slowly, he pressed his lips together. He let her walk away. She was right. It wouldn’t work but fuck all he wanted was for it to work. Y/N was funny and kind and beautiful. So beautiful.

Slowly, Quinn sat down on the mattress, still staring towards the door. 

Several minutes past and the door was shoved open by Jack. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Dude what happened to your big night?” he asked as he sat down beside him. 

Quinn shrugged as he stared ahead. “She left,” he forced out while poking his tongue against his cheek. 

“I saw that, what happened?” Jack asked as he rested his hand onto Quinn’s shoulder. 

Quinn nodded as he stared down towards his lap. “I don’t do hook ups, man,”

[squoxle]

hayy can I request Heeseung and yn hotel sex

Sex is always better in someone else’s bed, especially when you don’t have to clean up afterwards…

Who’s in the mood for a spicy hotel hookup? I know I am…

Room #216 ~ L.HS

𐙚pairing: stranger!heeseung x fm!reader | 𐙚wc: 950 | 𐙚plot: one night stand with Heeseung. | 𐙚cw:🔞MDNI!! SMUT!!! unprotected sex and dirty talk (hint of fluff at the end)

“Here’s your room key,” the man said, holding out a key card for the room you had just paid for…well, technically the room Heeseung paid for.

You met him a few hours ago at the club about 15 minutes from the hotel. Though you were in the healing process after a messy breakup, you weren't looking for a hotel hookup...

But he was so fucking hot. And you were so fucking horny. How could you pass up an opportunity like this?

You didn't know much about him other than the fact that he was single and had a singing gig at a jazz club. Oh, and that he was hot...as if that wasn't clear enough.

He held your hand as you walked with him down the hallway to the room. With a gentle beep, the door opened as he waved the key in front of the touchpad.

You felt a cool breeze hit your face as the door swung open. He didn't say a single word as he slammed you against the door, closing it with the force of his body on top of yours. He grabbed your face, sucking your lips in as he scrambled to lock the door as he kissed you, tugging eagerly at your hips, pulling you in closer to him.

You moaned softly as he moved down to your neck, biting you as he groped your ass. He started to grind his hip into you, lifting your leg up to wrap it around his waist before lifting you off the ground completely.

He walked you over to the king-sized bed, throwing your body down as he tore your legs apart. He pressed his clothed dick against your pussy before unbuckling his pants. He leaned down to kiss you as he stepped out of his pants.

You looked down to see his dick twitching in excitement as precum seeped from the tip. He pulled his shirt over his head as he slid your panties to the side. You threw your head back as he pushed his dick into you.

"Mmm!" you winced, covering your mouth.

"You okay?" he paused to make sure you were okay.

"Mhm, yeah I'm--AHH!!" you moaned as he bottomed in you.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll make you feel good," he hummed as he fucked your sloppy wet cunt. He raised your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into you.

You moaned as he pumped himself into you, stretching your pussy open. "D'you like that, baby? You like it when I fuck you like this huh?" he cooed.

"Mhm," you hummed as you bit your lip.

"It feels good, doesn't it? I know how to make my baby feel so fucking good." He was so big that you could feel him hitting your cervix as he pushed every inch of his big dick inside of you.

He picked you up, flipping you on your stomach before pulling you up by the hips. He lined his dick up with your ass as he pushed into your dripping wet pussy. "Ugh, fuck," you moaned.

"Mmm fuck, baby. You're so fucking tight," he groaned. "Ngh! Fuck I can feel your pussy gripping my cock. Ugh, I'm gonna cum" he moaned as he fucked you faster before pulling his dick out to spray cum all over your ass.

He climbed off the bed and walked around to the other side to shove his dick into your mouth. "Suck my dick like a good girl," he hummed as your head bobbed.

You gasped for air as he pulled his dick out. It was coated in your saliva and a stream of saliva kept you connected. "C'mere," he whispered as he climbed onto the bed. "I want you to ride me."

You climbed on top of him, slowly lowering onto his dick, feeling every inch going deep into your pussy. He threw his head back as you bounced on his cock.

You reached down to stimulate your clit as you rode him. You were coming closer to your high as he pressed his thumbs into your core. You could feel his dick even better with the added pressure. He was so thick, you felt him stretching you open as your pussy tightened around him.

You leaned back as you felt yourself getting ready to finish. "Uh uh, I wanna feel you cum on my cock," he groaned as he pulled you forward. You placed your hands on his chest, balancing your posture as he bucked his hips into you.

You whined as he fucked your cervix, breathing heavily as you lost all control. "That's it, good girl," he hummed as he gripped onto your ass. You fell onto his chest as he flipped you over onto your back.

Your legs hung over his shoulders as he pounded into you, making you cum all over his thighs.

This is usually the part where you fall asleep next to each other and wake up alone, never to see the other person again, but this was different.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see the sheets pushed to your side, covering your nudeness. You looked around, wondering if he was still there only to find a small brown bag and a note on the bedside table.

"Hey, sorry I had to leave you in bed like that...completely forgot I had work this morning. Anyways, I picked you up some breakfast. Hopefully you like donuts. And here's my number," You looked down to see his phone number written at the bottom of the paper.

"Maybe we can meet up again sometime. I really enjoyed hanging out with you last night," you held the paper to your chest as you opened the bag to see a pink-sprinkled donut and a few napkins.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[cherryredstars]

so I seen you 1k prompt ! And my eye gyat (😭 I need help ) something’s And I see you have a boss reader and I was just thinking . What about a boss FM reader who’s is dominant like 😏 think about it! and Miguel is like a civilian that is married to reader because of his love not because Of this look, his built body, no it how he laugh his, his eyes, the way he caring, and his ass personality 🤭..

so what about a sub/dom Miguel , like your game , and your assistant fic 😌☝️ can you mix these two pls !!

1k Prompts and Company Matters Extra

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Handjobs, Blowjobs, Unintended Edging/Orgasm Denial, Bondage, Praise

Summary: Appreciate your employees! 

A/N: Subby Migs!!! Welcome back, dear!!!

Word Count: 1.7K (Unedited)

Part 1. Part 1.5, Part 2

You needed a break. 

The paper work wasn’t helping your budding headache, and you were in desperate need of some coffee. As if he knew of your distress, Miguel knocks on your door. He slips in, a coffee cup in his hand. It makes your shoulders relax in relief, watching him as he smiles at you and places the coffee on your desk. 

“My savior,” You mutter while taking the coffee and sipping it. Just how you like it. 

He shrugs, looking at the ground as he chuckles with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s nothing. Just thought you’d need a little pick me up.”

You hum around the edge of your cup, eyes scanning Miguel. He’s wearing a grey button up that stretches over his wide torso, a loose charcoal black tie to match his slacks. You cross your legs as you pull the cup away, licking at your bottom lip. With your keen eyes, you can see how Miguel’s eyes track the movement, eyes slightly darkening before he blinks it away. He stutters a bit as he goes to excuse himself, turning around and giving you a perfect view of his ass. The way he looks right now has to be considered extremely unprofessional.

“Miguel,” You call out, standing up from your desk. Miguel turns around quickly, looking eager to meet your demands. “Come take a seat.”

You have no chairs in your office besides your own. Made it that way to make snobby businessmen uncomfortable when they come to your office to pester you. You can see Miguel’s obvious confusion on where he’s supposed to sit. His lips part in realization when you pull your large leather chair back slightly, and he walks over silently. He walks past you, watching you the whole time as he moves to sit. His eyes don’t leave you even as your hand pushes at the center of his chest, making him fall into the chair.

“How about you? Where will you sit?” He whispers out, nervous at being so close to you. He can still feel your hand at his chest. 

You smile down at him, an almost predatory one. How sweet, still wanting to take care of you. “Right here.”

Miguel’s breath catches in his throat when you throw your leg over his thighs, caging him in. You’re hovering over his lap, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear your flared slacks instead of your pencil skirt. Your arm is thrown lazily over Miguel’s shoulder, your other hand toying with his loose tie. 

Miguel swallows loudly as he stares at you, “What are you doing?”

“Y��know, I appreciate you so much, Miguel.” You ignore, eyes watching the way his tie unravels with a light tug. “You’re so sweet to me. Such a good boy for me.”

Miguel lets out a shuddering breath, squirming under you as he grips the chair’s arms tightly. His knuckles are blinding white. “I-it’s my job.”

You let out an airy giggle that makes his brain fuzzy. His eyes are lidded and hazy as he watches your finger trail down his chest, slowly starting to undo a few buttons. Your hands burn against his exposed chest, and you can feel his rapid heart beat against your fingers. You smirk, leaning in and mouthing at his jawline. It makes Miguel gasp out, hands twitching to grab onto you. Your hands continue to rub at his chest as your mouth comes to his ear. 

You give the lobe a small nip, breath hot against the shell of it, “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

You can feel Miguel’s thighs twitch under you, pushing away from him. He almost whines as you get up, but it dies when you slowly part his legs and sink to the ground. You try to not laugh when he whimpers out an ‘oh shit’ as he watches you. Your hands rub at his clothed thighs, moving up until they’re at his belt. They slowly start to undo it, pulling the black leather out of his belt loops as you look up at him. 

“Would you like that?” You ask, basically cooing at him. He nods quickly muttering out a breathy ‘yes’. Good boy. 

You reward him by undoing his zipper, pride coursing through your veins when he instantly lifts his hips so you can pull them down. As you slip  them down to his thighs, your eyes zero in on the large bulge in his briefs. He whines when he finds you staring at it so intensely, his cheeks burning. Your hand ghosts over it, and he can feel your nails scraping against him gently. He curses softly when he bucks his hips into your hand, breathing in deeply. 

Your hand slips into his underwear, and he groans when your warm hand wraps around him. You pull him out gently, pumping him in an agonizingly slow pace. He cries out when your thumb brushes over his slit and you snap your face up to him. You coo at him, letting him go and standing up again. He whimpers at you as you let go of him, an apology is at the tip of his tongue. However, he quiets when you take the tie from around his neck. 

“Be a good boy and open your mouth for me.” You say sweetly, and he blinks up at you as he slowly relaxes his jaw. 

You hum, rewarding him with a slow caress to his cheek. He melts into the touch, but his eyes instantly widen as you shove the tie in between his parted lips and start tying it around his head. He speaks around it, his talk muffled. 

You bring a finger to your lips, shushing him gently. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Never know when someone might come up here.”

He nods in understanding, watching as you pry his hands away from the arm rests. You grab his belt, starting to tie his wrists together. “And this… is just for fun.”

Once the belt is secured, you sink back down to your knees again. He slumps in the chair, manspreading so you can sit comfortably between his legs. Your hand slowly begins to pump him again, and you can hear him sigh against his tie. You give him slow pumps, occasionally massaging under his mushroom head. It makes him whine and buck, eyes fluttering from the pleasure as he watches you play with him. You continue to praise him as you work him, muttering about how pretty he looks. 

Once you begin to tire of playing with him, you suck his tip into your mouth. It makes him moan out, tugging at his restraints. His hands itch to tangle in your hair as you bob your head around him. You take more and more of him into your mouth, pausing when he hits the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and try to take more of him in, and he moans loudly while bucking his hips. It makes you gag around him, and you push on his abdomen warningly. He whines apologies through the tie. They die down as his head rolls back, a dragged groan filling the room as you shake your head slightly. His eyes roll to the back of his head, nails leaving crescents into his palms as you move your head up and down with vigor. 

You can feel him twitch in your mouth, and you smirk from around him. Miguel’s whole body tenses in preparation of the orgasm that’s about to wash over him, babbling nonsense around his gag. You move faster, closing your eyes and letting him hit the back of your throat repeatedly. Miguel’s hand clenches and unclenches, hips lifting off of the chair as h-

Knock, knock.

Both you and Miguel freeze. The knocking continues once again, and the both of you look at each other. Miguel has a wide eyed and pleading look in his eyes. Is he begging you to stop or continue? You slowly pull off of Miguel as the person on the other side of the door calls your name, your thumb wiping away the spit from the side of your mouth. Miguel lets out a muffled whine, a pained look in his eyes as his poor cock aches with his built up release. You quickly throw your hand over his mouth to muffle him further, glaring at him as you hold a finger to your mouth. 

Both of you stay silent, until the person on the other side curses, mumbling something about forgetting a file at their desk. The sound of footsteps retreating meet your ears, and the two of you relax as it becomes quiet again. Miguel’s chest is heaving, brows furrowed. He whines again when you pull your hand away from his mouth. His orgasm has completely died down, and he bucks his hips up in hopes to lure you back in. 

Hope jumps in his chest when your hands reach down, but it quickly dies as you begin to undo his belt. His eyes are desperate as he mumbles ‘please’ around the tie and shakes his head. You coo at him, massaging his wrists before tucking him back into his pants and underwear before zipping him up. You button up his shirt again, removing the tie around his mouth last. 

“I know, I know. But break time is over. You gotta get back to your desk before that person comes back.” You shush as he begins to beg you to finish what you started. You caress his cheek lovingly, taking the wet tie and stuffing it into his pant pocket. He whines again, but nods his head in understanding as you ease him up from the chair. You give his cheek a small peck, before he’s rounding your desk and walking towards the door. 

You sit back in your chair, sighing as you pick up a pen and grab a piece of paper. Miguel readjusts his clothing as he opens the door, making sure he looks appropriate. 

“Miguel.” 

He turns quickly, gulping and half-hoping you call him back. But instead, you’re leaning against your desk with your coffee cup in your hand. “Be a doll and warm up my coffee.”

Miguel takes a deep breath, his grip on the doorknob tightening. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

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[threepandas]

Bad End: Restructuring

The blast doors on my office were stronger then the ones on most bunkers. They matched the one's on the company dorms AND my personal rooms. Thing is? They weren't designed to hold out forever. In fact, I was pretty sure they were a pretty bit of security theater, just to let us fleshys feel safe.

We weren't.

Not a single moment of a single day.

The pay was unmatched. But then again, it'd HAVE to be, with the mortality rate. The morbidity rate on top, too. You didn't take a job like this unless you were crazy. Or, you know, desperate. College loans, man. They get you over a barrel and don't let up. But a few years of this? I'd be clear an free~

Few MORE years? I'd ever have a tasty little nest egg to fall back on, in case of emergencies. I just... you know, had to play it smart. Be really, REALLY careful.

No slacking off. No getting comfortable. Vigilance and best manners. Then we all get to go home alive. Because what's out there? In the Labs? Those guys can pop diamonds like we crush packing peanuts. Highest grade, fancy ass, metal bars of specialty blend metals? Tied up in pretty little bows.

They may LOOK like some sort of waifish boy band... but God, they are NOT. They are really, REALLY not. And their "personality" matrix program thingies? Apparently still a work in progress. A LONG work in progress.

People have fucking DIED.

But does management care? Of course not. Pay out some life insurance. "It was an accident on the job". And "of COURSE steps will be taken to insure to never happens again". Ha! My ass, it is. And my ass, they are. They aren't doing SHIT. Nor are they GOING too. They're in too deep with this project, whatever it is. And us?

Well WE'RE expendable.

Just the cost of doing business.

I watch bleeding edge technology move like dancers, room to room. The wall of screen lighting up my cramped little office. The mini-fridge hums and the fan whirrs, filling the silence. I try to spot FM-036 on one of the screens. I can't find him and it makes me nervous.

He might be hiding. Trying to be polite, in his own way. Since there was an incident.

I FUCKING TOLD Ric not to call them "it"! I TOLD him! It aggravates them. Provokes. You don't DO that with something... some ONE, with that much physical power. 36 put their fist through his SHOULDER. And the God damned wall! He might LOSE his arm, which? Given their ability to calculate better then most supercomputers?

Was probably the point.

I notice one of the androids messing with a computer in a lab. Fuck. I lean forward, hating drawing their attention but knowing I have to do my damn job. I press on the speaker system for that room after a quick glance at the ID on their jumpsuit.

"FM-047, could you please not touch that? I know you are aware that you are not supposed to tamper, meddle, or otherwise engage with the researchers notes or electronics."

The android stop typing. Their head rolling up and to the side to look directly at the camera, their body perfectly still. The angle borders on impossible. Almost owlish, nearly snake like. All perfectly smooth movements effortlessly controlled. Joint not limited by human designs. His face is bemused. Pleasant.

"Of course, night gaurd. My mistake. Thank you for correcting me." He replies, something almost like laughter, nearly like mocking, but not quite, in his smooth voice. They always sound like they are... HUMORING us. Working around us.

It sends a jolt of cold fear though my veins.

I... I REALLY hate talking to the androids.

Pity, they seem to like talking to ME.

"I was unaware you were on shift tonight. I will update the others. It's good to hear your voice again, you seemed nervous, last time we spoke."

Yeah. Because you were asking PERSONAL QUESTIONS. Oh, sure, they had dressed them up as "We're so CURIOUS about Humans~☆" but I wasn't an IDIOT. You Did NOT, under ANY circumstances, try to bond with the machines. NO chatting. That was lesson number one from my trainer.

And Frank? Frank had seen too many "but THIS time it's DIFFERENT! We're FWIENDS~!" Incidents end in unspeakable carnage. Lost too many noobies. We DO NOT chat! With the machines!!! DO. NOT.

"Ah~, you made her nervous again, FM-047" came from a different screen. I flinched. Jerked back so I could see it. Oh god. "Besides, I told you. The calculations showed she wasnt going anywhere. The 'money' is too good."

The androids had stopped. Turned, in some cases unnaturally, to stare up at the cameras. At me. It was a blatant show of how interconnected they were. How distance meant nothing to them. How... how enmeshed they were, in the Lab's systems.

COULD they see me?

I didn't want to know. I NEEDED not to know. If only so I could continue to sleep at night.

They smiled, clearly hoping I'd engage. I wanted to. God did I want too. Wanted to demand "what calculations" and for them to STOP looking at me like that. But I didn't. With tense muscles I careful lifted my finger from the speaker system's button and leaned back. Crossed my arms like I was hugging myself.

Do. Not. Engage.

Remember what Frank taught you.

My... my office felt so claustrophobic. Painfully small. Across the screens before me, matching faces huffed laughs of condescending amusement. Some out right DID laugh. Bright and mean noises that echoed in silence of the night.

Humans? Frank had observed (and I kinda had to agree) were beneath them, in their minds. Flawed little flesh creatures. Annoying. It was something the scientists were trying to correct. Pretty sure they fucked up. Badly. And long, long ago.

Watching over these guys? Felt like watching over a sea of identical demons. Pretty, cruel, and incapable of human understanding. Fond of tormenting the nearest human for sport.

"Tell us, night gaurd, are you afraid?"

Oh that's just PETTY. Fucking cliché as shit, too. I mean, YES, obviously. But STILL. And... and you know what? Fuck it! Frank, gave me his number for a reason! I scramble for my belt. The communicator there. It barely rings.

"Mph, m'awake! Wus happin' kid? Come on, talk to me."

I ramble. Knees dragged up on my chair, curled in a ball. Frank's low, old man, rumble a soothing focal point. These guys are so creepy. I HATE that they KNOW that. Gleefully will TRY to be, sometimes. Can BACK IT UP.

"Hey, hey. I'll stay on the line, okay? You just need to make it to morning shift. They're are creepy lil shits, but they can't get past the doors. I'll come get you myself, okay? Walk you right back to the dorms. You're going to be okay, sweetheart."

I nod, even though I know the old man can't see me. Manage to crackle out a "Mmmhmm". The androids haven't stopped staring. The worst part? Is they realistically DONT HAVE TOO. Can stay, perfectly still, like statues... forever, if they wish.

Watching.

With those "I'm laughing at you" grins. That "aaaw, how PATHETIC" expression. As though I were a wretched little animal to be observed. I ask Frank to tell me about his new show. It's... it's something about socialites, right? Historical? He's glad too. Filling my office with the sound of his voice. It's gonna be a long shift.

I don't notice, high up on the wall, near the back of my office?

A security camera that I do not control. It's red light on.

The company has to be sure it's employees aren't slacking, after all! Aren't up to no good! But don't worry, THAT camera is connect to a database the androids shouldn't be able to access! Because we told them not too.

And THAT'S IT.

No one will learn of the security breach until its far, far too late.

Now? They watch as I watch them.

And it's just the beginning.

[wheezyseeker99]

Too Sweet

Warnings: body appreciation, pda, teasing, alcohol consumption, swearing, oral (female receiving), soft domination (little bit of daddy kink), hair pulling, unprotected sex (fm)

18+, MDNI

Summary: An entire day where Cam cannot keep his hands to himself.

AN: This picture got posted while I finished editing this so I think that means I need to use it.

Cam has always shown appreciation for my body, but his enthusiasm for my curves surpassed anything I have ever experienced. This morning I woke up and made myself a cup of coffee and brought a cup of chocolate milk to bed for Cam. He’s been sleeping in later now that it’s the off season. I smile to myself as I look at him softly snoring. His messy hair shined brighter from the sun streaming in through the windows.

I climbed back into bed and grabbed my book from the bedside table, and read until Cam woke up. He rolled over and laid his head on my lap while I flipped through the book. Well, that was until his hands started to roam my body.

I looked down at him, and his eyes held on my thighs. I rarely ever bother to put on pants when I go to bed so I’m still just in an oversized old tshirt. It’s nothing special, but Cam loves it. He trails a hand up and down my thigh. I let him get lost in his head for a little while so I could keep reading. It was only when his teeth met my thigh that I slammed the book shut.

“Cameron,” I gasped and looked down at him, “why did you do that?”

He took the book from my hands and sat it on his bedside table. He picked up the glass of chocolate milk, smiling to himself before drinking from the glass. He sat it down and then laid back down.

“Wanted your attention baby,” he sighed before kissing over the red bitten skin on my thigh.

“Yeah?” I say and run my fingers through his hair, “and how did I taste?”

His eyes gleam with excitement and he sits up a little to give me a chaste kiss. “The usual, honey. Way too sweet for me,” he states, grinning ear to ear.

“You say that like you didn’t just drink chocolate milk,” I laugh.

He hummed softly. “You’re sweeter than that, though.”

“If you say so Cameron.”

“I do,” he places another kiss on my thigh before nuzzling his face into the skin. “5 more minutes.”

…

5 more minutes turned into nearly 30, and now we’re both getting ready to leave the house. Today we’re going to a bonfire out near Chesapeake Bay at one of his friend’s houses, and Cam got us an airbnb for the night. I knew he would convince me to go out on a boat in the morning to fish so I packed extra clothes in my overnight bag.

While I’m zipping up my bag, a slap comes down on my ass. I let out a gasp before two arms snake around my waist. I lean back into Cam’s chest and I felt a kiss being placed on the top of my head.

“What was that for?”

“It was right there, calling for me to touch it,” he laughed into my hair. His hands stroked my sides gently.

“I’m sure it did,” I rolled my eyes and played along. “Let’s go before I send you by yourself.”

“Like you could get rid of me,” he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. He grabbed the bag and walked out the door.

…

The entire drive Cam had his hand on my thigh. He hummed to the music playing from the radio, but otherwise, he was quiet. Typically he would want to talk so this is a stark contrast to how he usually is. Silence is just weird in this car. I placed my hand over his to get his attention, and his palm squeezed my inner thigh through my leggings.

“You’re being quiet,” I told him. I traced my fingers over his hand and looked over at him. His gaze is still fixed on the road.

“Just content baby,” he glances over at me. His hand squeezed my thigh again. A bolt of electricity races through me and I clamped my thighs closed around his hand, trapping it between them. I held back a moan by biting down on my lip. “Very, very content.”

“But I want you to talk,” I whine. He arches an eyebrow when he looks at me for a second.

“Nah baby, you can talk about anything and I’ll listen. We have 10 minutes until we arrive at the airbnb.”

Asshole.

I pout in my seat for the remainder of the drive, and I don’t wait for Cam when we pulled into the driveway of the house we’re staying at for the night. I got out of the car and grabbed my bag from the back without sparing him a glance. I punch in the code and walk in through the door. Cam walked up behind me in the entryway and pulled me back into him.

“Is my little brat mad at me?” He cooed before turning me to face him. “Need me to talk and touch you all day long to satisfy you?”

“Ugh, don’t make fun of me,” I chastise him.

Cam slotted his mouth to mine for a moment and he tucked my hair behind my ear. Beaming down at me, he said, “it’s my favorite past time, honey.”

I shoved his chest and grabbed my bag.

“You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep this up Cameron.”

…

At the bonfire Cam and I are sitting on a blanket, watching the fire roar in front of us. He talks to his friends and teammates while I sip the whiskey sour in my glass, listening to him. I guess I’ve finally caught up with Cam with the content feeling soaring through my chest. I lean into him and a press a kiss on his jaw, silently telling him that I’m enjoying this too.

I like being out of the city, even if it’s just for a little while. I can tell he does too. A lot of people treat him as if he’s only a last name and a number on a jersey, but the people here know him as just Cam. It put a smile on my face for him to be normal and comfortable in a space around people. ‘Drunk on life Cam’ is one of my favorite versions of him.

I finished off my glass before standing to refill it at the minibar. From afar, I can still feel his eyes on me. All the sudden I hear the pop of a bottle being opened. I glanced over and it was Tyson pouring wine into Katie’s glass. In my mind it wasn’t the pop of a wine bottle, I heard the smack of Cam’s hand on my ass. A shiver ran through me at the thought. When he had done it earlier I knew I’d end up thinking about it once I drank a little.

Now I feel the horniness settle inside me. I move my eyes back to where he is, loving the way he’s laughing. I go back over to my spot to sit down, but he tugs me down between his spread legs, caging me in with his arms around my waist. I lean back into him and get lost in the haziness he makes me feel. I tuck my face in the crook of his neck. I breathe him in, smelling his cologne, and I feel him laugh as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. I love him and he knows it without me saying a word.

“Honey,” Cam whispered into my ear. I hummed in response. I feel his warm breath against the shell of my ear. “Do you want to head out soon?”

I shake my head while taking a swig of my drink.

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Jamie asked, narrowing his eyes at us.

“Nothing Jameson,” I spoke up. “Just how we need to head out soon. You know I’m an early riser. And I need to have time to get comfortable in bed with Cam.”

From the outside perspective, my words were innocently sweet, but Cam knew what I meant. I tilted my head to connect our eyes and his flared at me. I didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to my lips. My insides feel warm instantly. Whenever I use the term ‘get comfortable’ that usually meant I would be naked and waiting in bed for Cam. Jamie and the guys probably didn’t know that though.

“Boring,” Jamie snorts. “Are we going out with Tys and Katie in the morning?”

Cam nods his head while licking his lips. He bites down on his bottom lip and I move my eyes away from him. I take a long sip from my glass and focus my gaze back on the fire. It wasn’t long before I felt his lips trail down the back of my neck. I tilt my head to the side so he has more access, and I try to hide the involuntary moan coming out of me by finishing what was left in my glass.

“Cam take your girl home if you’re going to be acting like that bro,” Tyson laughs.

“Gladly,” Cam groans behind me. He lets me go and jumps up to grab my hands, pulling me up with him. “See you guys in the morning.”

…

We barely make it through the door when my back is slammed against it. I felt satisfaction already twisting deep in my stomach when he looks at me like this. His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds before they met mine again. They were a darker shade of blue and they made my chest feel tight. He drags the backs of his fingers down my cheek, “where were we, honey?”

“Kiss me.”

That was all I could say before his lips attack mine confidently, passionately. His hands slide into my hair, slightly tugging my head back. I feel the heat rushing through my body, building between my legs. I need him on top of me, inside me. I need him in a way that’ll screw up my mind forever.

His hands dropped from my hair before gliding down my curves to rest on my hips. Cam pulls his lips away from mine before he pulls me towards the kitchen.

“Hop up on the counter,” he murmurs.

My gaze flicked towards the hallway where our bedroom for the night is, but he steers me to the countertop, pressing me against it. His fingers hook into my leggings and panties, tugging them down my legs.

He straightens his posture before his hand came beneath my chin, tipping my face up, “I've seen and tasted every inch of you. There's no point hiding in a bedroom now. You’re going to get comfortable right here.”

Cam presses a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling away, lifting me by the hips to settle on the counter. He steps between my spread legs, grinning at the sight. He groans while lowering himself to come face to face with my core.

“Please,” I whimper out.

He softly kisses up my inner thigh from my knee to my pussy. His beard scratched against my skin, teasing just enough to make me squirm. He placed a kiss against my clit while dragging his fingers over my folds.

“So wet for me already honey,” he moaned before diving in. His mouth traced shapes on my clit and two of his fingers entered my pussy, knocking all of the air out of me. I gasp and rake my fingers through his hair, holding on. His fingertips increased pressure inside me, and I feel my stomach tense.

“Cam.” His name on my lips is a constant plea for more, moaning it out like it’s a melody. My hips thrust into him, his tongue caressing all of the right places. My body is aching for release when he pulls his mouth away, his fingers still thrusting into me.

“Yeah?” I can hear the cockiness in his voice while he bites down my thigh. “I make you feel good?”

I nod my head, only able to moan at how good he’s making me feel.

“Say it,” he gritted out, sucking my swollen clit back into his mouth.

“You make me feel so good Cam,” I say obliviously. A harsh moan tore from me and he continues to push me closer to the edge. My eyes closed tightly as Cam coaxes me through my orgasm, massaging my sensitive clit with his tongue until I tug a fistful of his hair to bring him to his feet. I can taste myself on his lips, opening my mouth for him.

Cam kissed me for what seemed like forever. His hand slid upward to grab a fistful of my hair, and the other came around my throat. I whimpered at the forceful grip. I’m far beyond aroused at this point. I need him. Now. I need all of him.

I trail my hands down to his shorts, tugging them down to reveal his cock, inch by delectable inch. I need him inside me so bad. His cock taunted me and it only urged me on more. Cam groaned and released his grip on me when I grabbed a hold of his thick, hard length. I stroke him slowly while his eyes watched me, sliding over every part of me that he could see. From my face to my barely covered breasts.

“Why didn’t I take off your tank top earlier?” Cam rasped. His hands settled on either side of me.

I cocked my head to the side and I released his length from my grip, “you were pussy driven, daddy.”

Cam’s eyes flared as his gaze dropped between my legs. If my body wasn’t on fire under his stare before it definitely is now. I drew my legs around his hips, tugging him closer.

“How can I not be honey? Your pussy is fucking sweet.”

My legs tightened around him, urging him forward into my throbbing core. I lift his shirt over his head and toss it away. His cock slid along my wet folds and I moaned at the contact. I clutched the back of his neck, sliding my fingers through the hair at his nape. Cam groaned as he entered me, his hot breath against my skin sent a shudder through me. His hands went to my hips, tugging them towards his, meeting his thrust.

“Fuck baby,” Cam grunted. His beard scratched my lips as I trailed soft pecks down his jawline, knowing that he loves the attention I give his neck in intimate moments like these. The sound of his low groan made me smile against his heated skin. I bit down on his earlobe before pulling my gazed back to his face.

"So fucking good daddy,” I praise him. “Please, don't stop."

His head fell onto my shoulder as he plunged in further, each thrust making me fall apart at his fingertips. His teeth pulled the straps of my bra and tank top from my shoulder and his mouth comes to my nipple. I clench around him and tug at his hair as he sucked the nub. Cam hits the spot inside of me over and over, gripping my throat again. He loses his composure completely as he slams his lips to mine in a bruising kiss.

“I love you,” he moaned as he released my lips.

“I love you,” I whined against him. His thrusts were forceful in the most delicious way, sending me into a powerful orgasm. He kept plunging into me during the aftershocks, leaving me whimpering and clutching onto him. I pulled his lips back to mine and he held my hips to his as he came inside me with a guttural groan. I open my eyes and watch him come undone, mesmerised by his features. His mouth hung open, breathing uneven. I can feel his body relax, his arms came around to hold me to him. I tried to pull back to look at him, but his arms tightened around me.

“Feels too good baby,” Cam shoves his face into my neck. We stay wrapped in each other for a few more minutes until he brings his eyes to meet mine. I feel too sated to move. I gasp and whimper when he slides out of me. I try to tug him back into me by my legs that are still wrapped around him, but he just chuckles, “not cockwarming you tonight, honey. Time for bed.”

He lifts me from the counter and takes me to our bedroom for the night. He cleans me up and tucks me into his chest before we both fall into a deep sleep.

…

The morning after Cam was up before me for once, getting the gear ready to go out on the boat. I shoved my head into his pillow when I realized he left the bed. I’m not sure what time it was when he slid into bed to wake me. He places soft kisses on my shoulder, “wake up, honey. Car is packed so now we need to get you dressed. Jamie is getting breakfast but we need to meet him at the dock before Tys and Katie.”

Cam tugs me out of bed, smacking my ass as he turned me around to attempt to dress me in my bikini. Once he ties the straps on my top and slides the bottoms on, he turns me to face him.

“Baby I’m pretty sure I should be taking clothes off instead of putting them on, but we need to hurry.”

Cam places a soft peck on my lips and lifts my arms and places my flyers hoodie over me. He tugs shorts up my legs and I whine in protest, still half asleep.

“Go brush your teeth. I’ll brush your hair,” he says and steers me towards the bathroom.

…

At the docks 20 minutes later we’re sitting on the boat with Jamie eating breakfast. He eyes us suspiciously.

“I don’t want to know why you both are marked up, just don’t do it in front of me.”

“Don’t tell me that Jim,” Cam snickers and wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me closer to him, “I love my girl.”

“I love you,” I whisper and kiss him.

“That’s enough,” Jamie says before walking to the drivers seat. “Don’t have sex on the boat.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Cam tells Jamie looks down at me, biting his lip. His hand slips under my hoodie and dips his mouth to whisper in my ear, “your sweetness is addicting.”

[lovingapparition]

If Would Sure Do Me Good (to do you good)

Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Smalltown American Aesthetics

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

A retired Simon moves to town. There are vibes.

Light warning for not very subtle sugar daddy implications that will ramp up later on.

AO3 Link

Modern civilization would be all but dead and gone, turned to dust, before this guy stopped talking. He's a regular at this dingy little convenience store, in at exactly 5:15pm Monday through Friday because it's, “just down the road from my job, and on my way home!” he reminds you, over and over as if you could possibly forget after being told for the second time that week. He insists you call him Pat but you never do, he's mostly just this fucking guy in your head. And boy, does this fucking guy love to yap your ears off. 

You blink rapidly, not that he notices, focusing in on his hands. They're dirty, always are, with some weird mystery grime that makes you vaguely queasy when he hands you his warm dollar bills. You think he might be a mechanic, he must have told you at some point, but information like that doesn't really stick during the evening rushes because hello dude there's like ten people behind you- 

Deep breaths. You are taking deep breaths, nodding, and smiling. The guy pauses for a breath, and you pounce. “So your total’s gonna be $13.47, the usual,” with a tight smile, your jaw a little clenched. Across the counter, he hums and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He's still describing something, gesticulating with his free hand before he pulls out a few bills. Through a couple of well-placed hums and nods you manage to focus on counting the proper change from the drawer. He pockets it without recounting his bills, too busy looking right at you as he tells you to, “Have a good night. Stay warm, honey.” 

Ugh. 

At least the next few transactions go quick, other people also getting off work but not as willing to talk your ear off. The weather was too cold for anyone else to feel like idly chatting. Your shift was just beginning, and already you felt worn out. Working evenings into the early hours of the morning wasn't ideal, but a job is a job. You value paying your rent more than seeing the sun or having time to hang out with your friends and family, at the moment. At least your cat was always happy to see you at one in the morning. 

When the first rush eventually slows down, you're able to take what feels like your first real breath since clocking in. You let your mind wander as you wipe the counters down, fill out the daily logs, and stare at the grimy spot on the ceiling that seems to grow inch by inch each time it rains or snows. It's all become a familiar routine, as horrifically boring as it is. You'd listen to a podcast or something in one ear bud if you could, but your phone barely got service inside the old building. A perk of the cheapest phone plan you could find.

The night goes without too much fuss, and when you've tidied the shelves and double-checked that your boss hasn't left any cryptic notes for you to interpret, you find yourself leaning against the counter. There's early 2000’s rock playing softly over the old speakers, and you desperately wish that your boss would give you permission to change it to anything other than 98.8 FM The Rock. 

Against your will you hum along to a Nickelback song as you watch the clock tick its way closer and closer to 9:30pm. Lunch. Also known as the only time you were allowed to lock the store. Your boss doesn't really vibe with the idea of paying two people at a time, so obviously you still had to help customers on your fifteen-minute breaks.

Halfway through the song you step out from behind the counter to go lock the front door. It's dark outside, and the street lamps cast everything in a warm, rusty yellow. The unshoveled and slushy snow looks like crushed gold, mixed with the oil and dirt from the parking lot. Inside, the lights inside Mo’s Mart buzz overhead. Their sickly green cast makes you feel a little ill if you think about it too hard. Looking outside just reminds you of it. You try to not feel disappointed as you trudge back to the counter to sit down for the first time in four and a half hours. 

The stool beneath you is only a little rickety, and you sigh as you lower yourself into it. For lunch you pull a bag of potato chips out of your bag. You'd bought them from the store yesterday and saved half for tonight. At a certain point the frozen burritos and hot pockets stopped being appetizing. This isn't much better, though. The chips are already going a little stale, gumming up in your molars as you chew. 

You're in the middle of digging at the crevices in your teeth with your tongue, zoned completely out as you stare at yesterday's crossword section from a newspaper your boss had left out. To be without. Six letters across and it ends in T. You're tapping your pen against the paper in thought, trying to ignore the urge to check the clock to see how much time you've got left on your break. You know you've got to have at least- 

The locked front door clunking in the frame snatches your attention. You sigh. There are three loud knocks on the glass. You set your pen down. Without a doubt in your mind you know you taped the handwritten, “On break! Back at 10!” sign up at eye level. When you look up and make eye contact with the man out front, this only seems to incense him. You recognize him, a regular who's never really happy about anything. Why he keeps shopping at Mo’s you'll never understand. He shouts something that's muffled through the door, like you're the asshole right now. A quick glance tells you that you've got eight minutes until the inevitably awkward confrontation where you have to let him in. You would rather sink into the tiled floor and never come out. It almost makes the rest of the break not even worth taking.

Almost. 

Trying to quell the unease his presence brings, you stay behind the counter. It's your break, and it's your right to take it without having to worry about some guy who wants his convenience store snacks in the middle of the night.

When you approach the door you try to avoid his eyes, you can practically feel him staring daggers already. As soon as the lock turns in your fingers he's pushing the door open, brushing past you as he haphazardly stomps the snow and salt off of his boots. You mentally add sweeping and mopping back onto your short mental to-do list. 

You count your breath on the inhale, and again on the exhale, as you walk back to the counter. The small monitor on the cluttered counter shows the store’s security cameras on three separate little boxes. You’re vaguely aware of the man hovering by the liquor section, but you can’t bring yourself to head out into the center of the store to bother him in the hopes of deterring theft, your boss be damned. His abrupt entry brought in enough cold air to make you shiver and jam your hands into your pockets. Standing behind the counter gives you an odd sense of security as the guy wanders from aisle to aisle. You know exactly where the store's panic button is under the counter should anything go away. Some cynical part of you wonders if it even works, knowing how cheap Mo is. 

The door chiming as someone else enters the store jolts you out of thought. You turn your head to greet the customer and you're met with probably the scariest individual you've ever seen. He's huge, wearing a heavy black work coat that doesn't hide the bulk of his body. The fact that he's wearing a skull print balaclava is what makes it worse. This guy could be totally normal and just wearing it because it's snowing out. He could also be about to ruin your night. 

He's looking right at you as he beelines to the counter. 

Anxiety bleeds into your hands, makes them feel like you've just stuck them in freezing water. Slowly, you take them out of your pockets and press them flat on the counter. You watch your own fingers spread out. From some job training or another, you recall that it's worse to look into the eyes of someone trying to rob you. “Hey there,” you try and fail to sound like you're not nervous. “What can I get you?” He's quiet for a long time. Too long. Risking a glance up at him, you find he's not even looking at you. The guy is carefully scanning the rows of cigarettes behind you.

You breathe a small sigh of relief. He doesn't say anything and you don't feel like pushing your luck tonight. You scoot over to the side and quietly thumb over your abandoned crossword. With a quick glance up you can see the man running a gloved hand over his jaw. There's a faint sound of his stubble rubbing against the balaclava. His eyes are dark, half lidded. Without moving his head, his gaze flicks to meet yours, and you look away without even thinking. Bright blue. Jesus Christ this is awkward. You tap your pen against the newsprint, wishing whatever was happening right now would just end. This guy isn't a regular, and he's certainly no one you've ever seen around town. Fingers crossed he's just passing through, never to be seen again. 

“Hey dickhead, anytime now!” Your head jerks up. The masked man slowly looks over his shoulder. The guy who came in earlier is cradling a bottle of cheap rum and a liter of coke, clearly pissed about the long wait. Your stomach feels like it's about to fall out of your ass. A stranger you've never seen and a pissy regular, what could possibly go wrong? Chewing at your lip, you take a step back from the counter. 

“Hey Marvin, I can get you over here. Relax,” you say over the stranger's shoulder, just barely managing to remember his name. You've carded him everyone else in this town enough to remember a few faces. The giant man in front of you steps over wordlessly as if Marvin hadn't just insulted him. Wanting to get him out as quickly as possible to avoid anymore confrontation, you check Marvin out. He's still grumbling to himself, working the toothpick in his cheek with his teeth. “Have a good night. Drive safe,” you tell him as you hand him his brown paper-bagged liquor. Marvin scoffs at you and yanks his items from your hands. You try not to react as he lets the door slam on his way out. 

The fluorescent lights buzz above you. Coldplay is on the radio, crackling softly. The man approaches your register, already reaching into his coat for his wallet. “I'll have your cheapest menthols,” he rumbles in an accent you've definitely never heard in town. What the hell was this guy doing in Mo’s this late at night? The vibes were sketching you the fuck out. You school your face into as neutral of an expression as you can manage and turn to reach for a pack of Marlboro Black Menthol 100’s from the shelf of tobacco products behind you. The man is looking down at your crossword, still unfinished, when you turn back to him. You were half tempted to ask where he was from. You don’t. 

When you ask him for ID he hands you a card from his wallet. Upon inspection, you find that it’s a British Military ID and heavily censored. It only tells you his first and last name initials. S. R. The photo is censored as well. As far as you can tell, it looks real to you. If it’s not, then he’s gone through an awful lot of effort for the worst cigarettes Mo’s has to offer. You weren’t in the business of prying. Most everyone else who lives in town you stopped carding years ago. Over time you just know through the grapevine who has what birthdays and when. Hard not too. Regardless, you nod uneasily at the man and carefully slide his ID back to his side of the counter.

You tell the man his total and he slides you a crisp twenty, avoids touching you directly. With a quick hand, you count his change back to him. It's all very normal until he neatly drops the cash into the dusty tip jar by the register. What the fuck? The cigarettes were barely five dollars, and you're pretty sure in your entire tenure at Mo's you've never been tipped anything other than the loose coins people don't want to keep. You're in the middle of trying to figure out how to thank him when he nods to you once, and turns to leave. 

Stunned, you have no idea how to react. Genuinely what the fuck was any of that? You eye the tip jar suspiciously as if the man had filled it with Monopoly money instead of enough cash to buy yourself a couple of hot meals. You entertain the idea of going to the local burger place you used to love as a kid. Hot, fresh fries and a large coke would probably fix you at least a little bit, you think. When you return to the comfort of your crossword you see in very neat, small handwriting, that the last word has been penned in. 

Bereft. 

The rest of the night goes without much else of note happening. You sweep the floors and mop the salt and grey sludge from the entrance. The coolers are stocked and the cash drawer is counted when your replacement arrives at two in the morning. Mo liked to keep the place open 24 hours since it was close enough to a busy highway that folks came through at all hours of the day. Your coworker, Olivier, arrives a little early so you can check them out at the register. Each morning they like to buy an energy drink in a tall pink can and whatever gummies they wanted to snack on that day. You enjoyed the little moments you got to have together. Olivier was one of the few people in this town who you could relate to. Their hair seemed to change color and style by the week, and they always had the best fashion sense. It seemed they were an expert at thrifting in a way you could only dream of. Layering different fabrics and patterns, they seemed to somehow never repeat an exact outfit.

“How was everything? Good night?” they ask, already rooting through their bag of gummies for the blue ones. You shrug, making a high-pitched noise somewhere in your throat. Olivier, bless them, immediately understands. “Did that weird masked guy come in again? He pulled in with a giant moving truck the other night.”

This immediately perks you up. “No shit?” That guy was moving here? “What's wrong with him?” you half-joke as you punch out on the register. Olivier chuckles with you, and the shared judgment over a new face in town reminds you how glad you are to have them. These small moments in the quiet hours of the morning made the town feel like it wasn't so small and empty. 

As you pull your heavy coat on you look out the windows into the parking lot. The lot had been heavily salted, but it was dusting snow. You could see the suspended motes in the yellow street lights outside. Part of you was a little jealous of Olivier. This time of the morning always seemed so peaceful and quiet. You knew you’d never want to work their hours though. Waking up at midnight to get ready for work? No thanks. You wish Olivier a good shift as you pull your gloves on, before pushing out into the parking lot. The air shocks a chill into your chest as you breathe it in. Your breath puffs in a heavy cloud as you exhale. Already you could feel your fingers burning as the cold licked it’s way through your heavy layers. Awkwardly, to avoid slipping, you shuffle your way across the lot to your truck. It’s a little blue beat-up thing. How you’ve managed to keep it running all these years, you have no idea. Apparently, luck and hoping for the best are good enough for the ancient beater. It takes a couple tries to get the engine to turn over, and you sigh in relief when it finally roars to life. After idling in the cabin for a few minutes, you shift into drive and begin the slow crawl home. The roads aren’t plowed, but it’s not slick enough to worry you. The sound of snow crunching beneath the tires, barely audible over the low hum of the radio, accompanies you home. 

When you pull into the driveway you can feel your shift finally weighing down on you. You turn the key and slouch down in the seat, eyes shut. Your feet are cold. Your shoulders sag under your heavy coat, but you're somehow not warm enough. The cold always finds a way in. After a few moments, you manage to drag yourself out of the truck and you make the short walk to your front door. The only benefit of small-town living was the fact that you could afford the rent on this little house. Never mind the fact that you were pretty sure your landlord lived about an hour and forty-five minutes up the highway and owned most of the houses in your street. 

Your nightly routine goes without much fuss. Tabitha, your cat, is pleased that you've come home on time to refill her dish with wet food. You undress, shower, and bundle back up in your warmest sleeping clothes. The house is cold, no matter how well you insulate the windows and the cracks in the baseboards. In the dark, you sit in bed with microwaved pasta in its plastic packaging with the instructions on the side. It's not good but it warms your belly and fills you up. As you eat you scroll on your phone, lazily browsing your social media and clicking through posts. Your mind wanders to the man you saw today. He was odd, and him moving here was even stranger. In all your life you can't really remember anyone moving into the town. Mostly your friends from high school have slowly trickled out, save for Olivier. You weren't sure why you'd never left for the bigger city, you'd just never felt the pull to get out and see more. 

When you sleep that night it's restless as ever. You wake up often, teeth chattering. Your cat is nestled somewhere beneath the blankets with you, and you're careful not to roll onto her. You vow to do a once over, just to see if you can stuff any more of your hand-me-down towels into the draftier baseboards. It feels like it's been winter forever now, but with Christmas barely around the corner, you knew it had just begun. 

—

You start seeing that guy around town. You pass by him in the grocery store. He's got a cart full of stuff, and you figure he's just stocking his kitchen. You grab your scant groceries, milk, and some canned goods that will last. While you're in the checkout line he pushes his cart behind you, leaving a respectful amount of space. You're not really the type to engage in the painfully long-winded Midwestern custom of talking about everything you possibly can, so you don't acknowledge him. You set your items down on the belt when it's your turn, and you offer a polite smile to the cashier. 

“Hey, find everything okay?” he asks, nice as you please. 

“I did, thanks Carter.” He was a few grades above you back in school. He also stuck around after his class had graduated. You vaguely wonder each time about his dreams of joining the military, and whatever happened to them. Maybe it was just life that happened. You know he's got a little boy to take care of with his high school sweetheart and another on the way. Maybe that was all it came down to, at the end of the day. 

Carter tells you your total and you mentally curse. You'd counted your cash twice before you'd come in the store, and you were certain you'd been doing the right math as you grabbed your items. Carter gently angles the register's screen to you so you can see the line items. God damn. You'd just plain miscalculated, probably too tired to keep it all straight in your head. You look down at the things you'd grabbed, trying to calculate what you could do without. You force a laugh. Humiliation roils in a dark pit in your chest. You find yourself speaking without thinking, “Oh whoops! Sorry, go ahead and take off the soup cans.” Carter, bless his heart, doesn't make a fuss. He punches the register keys quickly and counts the cash you hand him. You very much do not want to look at the stranger behind you. You pray to whatever god might be listening that maybe he wasn't being as nosey as everyone else was in this town, and that he didn't just hear that you can't really afford an armful of groceries. 

Carter hands you your single plastic bag, tells you to “Have a good one, hon,” You speed walk back to your truck, your breath puffing in clouds around you. 

–

The next time you see him you're driving to work. The radio is playing softly and your truck's heaters are blowing semi-cold air onto you. You're stopped at a light when you see the guy, dressed in a light coat and the same balaclava. He's jogging, somehow managing to work a sweat on the cold. You have no idea what kind of psychopath goes on a run in the dead of winter. When the light turns green you have to drag your eyes off of him before you accelerate through the light. 

It was rare that anyone in your town went on a jog. Unheard of in the winter. You were certain the old ladies would be gossiping up a storm at church. You figured it was no different than you and Olivier at Mo’s. You smile at the thought of sharing your sighting of the masked stranger with Olivier tonight. The little chats in the quiet morning hours were a light in the dark of winter. 

It was easy to get lost in the cold. It seemed all your waking hours were spent in the dark, during these months. You'd wake up later in the afternoon, always too tired to rise any earlier. It wasn't great for your mental health, but neither would being homeless. You'd take your victories where you could get them. Without much family nearby to rely on, you had to get by on your own.

The joy of adulthood.

–

You see him again that same night. He comes in around midnight. He's the first customer in around an hour. There had been a small rush of truckers passing through, trying to make it off the major highways before some snowfall was forecast to hit the area. You note that he's better dressed for the weather than he was earlier while he was jogging. He's in the same black work coat and leather gloves as before. You find it hard to meet his eye when he approaches the counter. 

Something about seeing him in town made the transaction feel off in a way that you've never experienced before. Getting Janet her pack of Marlboro Reds and ringing her son Nick up for his energy drinks was never sullied by the fact that you saw them at the Sonic Drive-In in their old beater from time to time. Seeing him now with the sense that he was apparently sticking around in town made you feel strange. You didn't know anything about him besides his initials and the skull print on his balaclava. Knowing he was likely some retired military operative from a foreign country was nerve-wracking and exciting and weird as hell for your little town. You had no idea how to interact with him. 

When you're getting the register open to count his change, you can't help but blurt out, “Are you liking it here?” Immediately you wish you could stuff the words back in your mouth when you see his eyes flick to meet yours. How on Earth could anyone be enjoying one of the worst winters your town has seen in years? 

To your surprise he humors you. “It's nice. Quiet,” he says after a beat. You blink at him, quickly looking back down to the cash you're supposed to be counting back to him. 

“Good. That's good. Folks can be weird about new people, but I'm glad you're settling in.” Oh God, you're rambling. Make it stop. 

To this, he hums. It's a low sound, almost silent, deep in his chest. You suppose that's the only response you're getting as he accepts the cash. You slide his pack of menthols across the counter. Your eyes widen as he doesn’t even recount the bills you’ve handed him, just folds them once and drops them into the tip jar. Sputtering already, cheeks red with embarrassment, you search for words but find none. This had to be about the grocery store. You were completely fine. Really, you were. You get paid this week and you would definitely go back to the store and probably pick up some extra groceries. None of this is coming out of your mouth though, as the man has basically vanished already. You can hear his truck starting up outside, the crunch of the snow and gravel as it pulls out of the lot. 

Guilt rolls through you, thick and familiar. You had no idea what to make of this guy. First, he blows into your dead-end town and starts leaving you ridiculous tips on the cheapest cigarettes possible? What the fuck? It makes you feel ashamed and unnerved. No one had ever given you more than the change they simply didn’t want to carry around, and you’d never expected anything more than that. 

When you talk it over with Olivier that night in the early hours, they eye you mischievously, clearly very interested in the man’s motives to give you excessively large tips. “C’mon, let the guy toss you a little cash here and there, it’s a free country. He can do what he wants, even if it's to give all his money away,” they tease over the lip of an energy drink. You hang your head, groaning in response. 

“I dunno… I don’t know what to make of it, is all,” you admit. That little pit of nervousness in your gut had been sitting heavily all night. Olivier gives you a pitying look. 

“Don’t worry too much about it, I think you should just let it ride. And tell me all of the details.” You can’t help but choke a small laugh at their insistence on being in the know. Almost nothing new ever came to town, of course it was the juiciest thing ever to Olivier. You give them a weary smile and wish them a good shift before heading out.

–

The next few weeks are more of the same. You see the man around town, like any other local. At the grocery store, he’s always got a cart full of food, and you’re sure to hurry off out of his way with your armfuls of items. Once or twice you’ve seen him meandering around the local shops, and you sort of dread the idea of running into him at the little cafe you sometimes indulge in when you’ve got a little extra cash on hand. Something in you wanted to be protective of your favorite spots in town, but you knew it was irrational. Soon enough he would be just as familiar to the folks around here as you were. 

Without fail, he continued to come into Mo’s with large bills. He’d ask you for his cigarettes, tip you far too much, and leave before you could really say anything about it. He never spoke to you more than you spoke to him and he was never anything other than perfectly polite. You hadn’t begun to have a single idea as to why he insisted on tipping so much. 

Eventually, you had come to terms with his insistence on leaving all of his excess cash with you. You started squirreling some of it away, using it specifically on groceries and smaller bills. It was nice to have a little extra padding in your wallet, especially during these cold months. You definitely weren’t touching the thermostat though, that’s for sure. Old habits, and all that. It was easiest to be thankful, to not look this gift horse in the mouth, and to do your best to just keep pushing through the winter. 

–

A winter storm was forecast for your town. The weatherman you’d grown up watching warned this would be one of the worst in years, and to stock up on the essentials. You knew you had about a month’s worth of cat food and a few cans of something or other in the back of your cupboards and called it good before heading to work that day. Calling out wasn’t really a thing Mo liked you to do. It didn’t help that you’d woken early today, sweating through your layers of blankets and somehow still chilled to the bone. 

Getting ready for your shift had taken about twice the time. You’d taken a cold shower, teeth chattering and your stomach turning the entire time. You did not look in the mirror while brushing your teeth and getting dressed. It had to be bad, the way folks looked at you when you arrived. You were bundled up in a hoodie and an oversized flannel. There was something about being ill that just made the cold weather feel so much worse. The black K-95 mask you’re wearing isn’t doing much to hide the puffiness or dark circles under your eyes. The near-constant sniffling and perspiration aren’t doing you any favors. 

Between the little rushes of your shift, you unabashedly sit on the floor behind the counter, not caring if Mo saw you on the cameras and wanted to give you a pissy little talk about it later. You hadn’t had any medicine to take at home and all the store carried were caffeine pills and Tylenol for eight dollars per two-pack. You do your best to stay hydrated, refilling a small styrofoam cup from the soda machines often. The water tastes vaguely like Hi-C Punch, and you try to not think about it. When you’re able to focus on your own hands, you see them shaking as they bring the cup to your lips. 

You think it’s around one in the morning when you hear the door chime. Close to the start of Oliver’s shift, the end of yours. No one has been in the store since around eight, you think. Time has stopped feeling real at this point. Breathing heavily, you muster the strength to stand. You lean heavily over the counter, trying to wet your mouth against the sudden nausea crawling up your throat. Under your layers, you’re sweating and chilled and just so uncomfortable. Whoever’s just entered the store stomps the snow off of their boots, and you can hear their steps squeak on the linoleum straight to your counter. A quick glance up and you’re making eye contact with the masked man who has become strangely familiar to you. 

You can only manage a nod to acknowledge him, before turning around to grab his cigarettes. He’d been in the night before, so you weren’t expecting him tonight. Normally his packs last him a few days. Why would he come out so late, especially during this bad weather? You can’t really bring yourself to think too critically right now, instead choosing to focus on not passing out before you can clock out and go home. When you turn around, pack of menthols in hand, you find that the man is eyeing you more intently than normal. You think? The mask made it hard to tell. Your hands are shaking, you realize it just as the cigarettes slip from your fingers. 

“Fuck, ‘m sorry-” You bend to pick them up and are met with a rush of blood in your ears. When you rise you lean against the counter for a moment, eyes closed. It would later come back to you as an embarrassing moment, but currently, you’re focusing very hard on staying upright. 

“You're sick,” the man says, so plainly it's kind of funny. You huff a small laugh, nodding. 

“Why’re you here? Storm’s gonna get bad tonight.” It’s a poor attempt at deflecting the obvious statement. Something bristled in you at him, it was enough that he’d seen you at the grocery store. Being seen by him like this now, especially after all the cash tips he’s been leaving you, makes you feel cagey and defensive.

“I could ask you the same.” He slides you a twenty as he says this. You meet his eyes, briefly. It’s easier to look at him with half of your face covered, you realize. Maybe that’s why he’s never been seen around town without his balaclava. He meets your gaze evenly, seemingly unaware of the shame that pulses under your skin. You sniffle loudly, not looking down at the bill on the counter. You’ve got about a dozen questions for him, but your jaw is clenched so tightly you’re not sure where to even begin. Just when you’ve worked up the nerve to fire a question at the man, the door chimes. 

Both of you turn to see Olivier entering the shop. They wave one mittened hand at you. “Oh hey! You’re here too, Simon. Nice to see you again.” Simon? Somehow Olivier had failed to mention his name after all this time. Admittedly, you’d never even thought to ask. He’d never introduced himself formally, and you weren’t one to pry, especially into the lives of odd men who only buy their cigarettes after sundown. Simon raises a hand to greet Olivier, the most human thing you’ve seen him do so far. 

“Hey Liv,” you croak, clearing your throat a little. At the sound of your wrecked voice, Olivier grimaces at you. Already, they’re reading into their tote back and donning a mask. 

“Stay over there, and disinfect the counter when you leave!” They harp, only half joking. You nod wearily and quickly check Simon’s cigarettes out on the register. It feels strange to even think of him using his first name. Simon takes his leave, and as soon as you've got your coat on you’re following right behind him, waving a quick goodbye to Olivier as you go. They’re immunocompromised, and the last thing you want is to make their life harder by getting them sick.

The snow falls heavily, immediately sticking to your eyelashes and blinding you. You drag your gloved hands over your eyes, trying to clear them. Blinking rapidly, you see that the parking lot is a smooth expanse of honeyed yellow. The street lamp makes the area look warmer than it is. You can already feel the cold sinking into your fingertips. The trees on the edges of the lot are bowed heavily under the snow’s weight. When you step into the lot, the snow is powdery soft, but icey beneath. Not good. It would be a very slow drive home once you got your truck moving. The snow is only about halfway up the tires, but you’d still need to shovel it out to give it a fighting chance of leaving the lot if you could get it started in this cold. 

When you get it started. 

Historically, your beloved fossil of a truck has not done well in the cold. You’d been meaning to replace the battery and get the transmission checked out this Summer. You had forgotten. 

The sound of snow crunching behind you tells you that Simon has not left the lot, and is apparently watching you have your silent meltdown now. Great. “You want some help getting that snow shoveled?” It’s strange hearing him outside of the contained environment that is Mo’s. The wind changes his voice. It’s odd to be shoulder to shoulder with him, and not talk about cigarettes. Dejected, you know when to choose your battles. You nod your head and lead him to the driver's side door of the truck. 

“I might need a jump, it really doesn’t do well in this weather,” you admit wearily. Simon nods like he knows that already. Maybe he did, it’s not exactly the nicest-looking vehicle anyone’s ever seen. You crank the door open and hop in the seat. When turning the engine over multiple times does nothing but pitifully crank the engine, you lean your forehead against the steering wheel in defeat. Before you can say anything you can't fight the urge to suddenly cough. You turn away from Simon, who's kind of hovering near the open door of your truck, to bury your mouth in your elbow to cough. You've honestly had enough of being gross and embarrassed in front of this guy for one night. When your coughing fit is done you lean back, exhausted, against the seat. Your throat is raw, and your entire body feels weak. The thought of shoveling out your truck and waiting on the battery to charge fills you with dread. “Fuck this, man.” 

Snow has started sticking to Simon's coat, dusting white onto the black fabric. He's standing a small distance away with his hands in his pockets, giving you a decent amount of space. “You want a ride home? Can come deal with it in the morning with you, if you like.” You turn your head to regard him, thankful again for your mask to hide behind. There's plenty of security footage of him coming into the store over and over again. You supposed if he wanted to kill you there would be at least a half-decent physical description. Plus Olivier probably knew more about him, given that they're a chatterbox no matter the time of day. 

Your eyes flick out to the lot. The snow shows no sign of stopping. Fuck it. 

“My house isn't far from here.”

[hatsukeii]

12:51 FM / K. AKAASHI

BROWSE EPISODES HERE

-PROLOGUE: 12:51 AM-

01:43 ━━━━●───── 15:58 ◁ PREVㅤ ❚ ❚ ㅤNEXT ▷ ㅤ

warning(s): use of y/n (format)

wc: ~1.0k

Akaashi: Is this thing...working?

Y/n: Course it is! Hear that? It's whirring, that means something has to be working.

Akaashi: You know what else whirred? My old laptop that blew up in physics last month.

You tap the microphone, and a high pitched ring sounds from the speakers. Akaashi slaps the headphones on, forgetting that they are connected to the two microphones.

Y/n: Ow! What the hell?

Akaashi: You haven't put the windscreen on yet! Mute the mic!

One hand over your left ear, the other hand scrambles for the mute button to stop the ringing, and Akaashi breathes a sigh of relief as the auditory torment comes to an end. You let go of your ear, now shuffling through papers and packaged food for the foam cover that has been buried beneath them. You manage to fish out a ball of tangled cables, the black piece of foam trapped in between. Pulling and threading wires through each other, they loosen enough to release the windscreen from their mess, and you stretch it over the metallic mesh of your microphone.

Y/n: There, is that better? I think it's better.

Akaashi: Much better.

Y/n: It's official, sound engineering is my future calling.

Akaashi: The last time you used my guitar amp, you almost blew up the insides plugging a bass into it. Please stay far away from sound engineering.

Y/n: You're no fun Keiji. Loosen up! Relax!

Akaashi: I'll relax when I walk us out of this studio in one piece. Why is the mic still whirring? I don't like that.

You clear your throat, before snatching a pack of melon bread and ripping open the plastic wrap haphazardly. Crumbs land on the pop filter of your microphone, and Akaashi clicks his tongue, swiping them off gently from beside you. From the recording booth, two bells sound simultaneously- the muffled, distant class bell from the neighbouring high school, and the booming lunch bell of Fukurodani. 12:51 pm.

Y/n: Hello hello to Fukurodani High! God, this is a really weird time to be broadcasting, isn't it? I mean, who starts lunch almost a whole hour after noon? Like, just pick twelve, or like twelve thirty, right? Even twelve fifty would've made more sense. Why twelve fifty-one?

Akaashi: Yeah, but that gives us a killer podcast name, doesn't it? 12:51 AM sounds way better than 12:50 AM.

Y/n: That's- good poi- Keij- input is- crashed?

Akaashi's audio cuts off, popping and crackling through his headphones as you continue to speak. He clicks his tongue, flicking the mic once, twice, and a third time with his finger. When that doesn't work, he cranks the mic clamp, and curses beneath his breath just quietly enough to not be picked up by the microphone. Pushing and twisting it around, he finds the perfect position, just above his head, angled upwards ever so slightly. Yes, he has to crane his neck for the duration of the podcast, and he can already feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing. But he can hear your voice perfectly this way, the silent humming of static buzzing unobtrusively beneath your talking. He's going to feel the strain at volleyball after school, but this is close enough to perfect for the broadcast.

Y/n: Alright, it's registering again.

Akaashi: I give it another five minutes to cut out again.

Y/n: Man, can't the school fund for a better PR system or something? Keiji, remember that one time we had a bomb threat and the announcement wasn't working in our classroom?

Akaashi: Yeah, this might just get us killed one day. To any teachers listening to this, can we please get a PR system upgrade?

Y/n: And that's not even the worst part! We're using AM radio at the moment, but if only we could use FM... not like anyone would notice the difference anyways.

You take a bite of your melon bread, and crumbs fall onto your pop filter again. Akaashi can't help but to swipe them off the foam cover for you, even as you keep talking. The recording booth now smells like metal sound equipment, with an odd hint of artificial melon.

Y/n: Anyways, you are currently tuned in to 12:51 AM radio! We're your hosts, y/n-

Akaashi: And Akaashi. Fukurodani's weird lunch time means that no one else is using the same frequency as we are, so we can actually run this show without any interference. Hooray to that.

You laugh at Akaashi's random spiel, punching his arm. He rubs his bicep, even though you didn't hit him that hard, before realising that his head is off centre from the microphone. He readjusts to his original seating position swiftly.

Y/n: Oh come on Keiji, no one understands enough about radio frequencies to get that! What's important is that we'll be your central student hub for-

Akaashi: I don't think we can call ourselves the student hub, isn't that the wellbeing area upstairs?

Y/n: ...True. Well! The two of us will be your main source of lunch entertainment once a week then! I'm not even too sure what our main topics are gong to be, so I guess stay tuned and be surprised?

Akaashi: I second that sentiment, stay tuned and be surprised everyone, because we'll be surprising ourselves as well. These episodes are available to watch on the school's website, so if you ever feel like going back to an episode again, or there was something you didn't quite catch, you can go back any time for it.

Y/n: Buuuut all you gotta do is show up at school, and you'll get the unedited, unfiltered first edition of each episode! How 'bout that!

Akaashi: Correct. The school is definitely not making sure we endorse good attendance.

Y/n: Don't say that Keiji!

You punch his side this time, and Akaashi snickers at your weak hit, head staying scarily still as he catches your wrist in his grasp while you pull away. You twist your hand from his fist, smacking his hand, before erupting into a fit of giggles. He raises his brow tauntingly, watching you turn back to your microphone from the corner of his eye. You take a deep breath in, and Akaashi doesn't miss the way your fingers grip the edge of the table so hard that they turn pale. You've never been this quiet.

Y/n: Now, without further ado....

He thinks you'll do just fine.

Akaashi: Welcome, to the first edition of 12:51 AM radio.

author's note: do you guys fw the script format? I'll probably be mixing this and full prose between chapters, but I've been really getting into scriptwriting and staging things, but i'm not exactly a filmmaker so scriptwriting is all i can do. take it as dialogue practice i guess. hope you guys enjoyed anyways!

tags: @wyrcan @kawoala @bakery-anon @catsoupki @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @fiannee @staraxiaa @akaakeis @velvetreds @tokeposts @kongkhoi @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @kuroppiii @bailey-reeds @kameyyy @tokeposts @tobiosluvr @gumims

p.s if you're not in the general taglist, comment/ask for tag if you'd like to be included in the taglist for this series!

[mooseung]

୨୧ take a break

lee jooyeon (xdh)

ᨳ your boyfriend can’t stop playing five nights at freddy’s

𖧷 got bored

𖧷 fm reader but it’s not obv until the end lol

𖧷 lee jooyeon is totally the type to take this challenge i pray he never finds out about custom night

your boyfriend has gotten 3 hours of the sleep in the past four days of his life. he’s trying to beat 20/20/20/20 mode in five nights at freddy’s, and it’s quite possibly the worst quest he could’ve given himself this summer.

it’s the first game of the series and, if you’re being honest, the most boring one he could’ve chosen. you’d rather him spend time with the sequel (the best game in the franchise) than this mundane one, but you respect his love for the classics. he’s been dying to brag about having a badge tied to the original and iconic game. jooyeon dreams of rubbing a shiny medal in jiseok’s face; apparently that guy found a loophole to cheat his way through the night which led him to obtain his glitched achievement. jooyeon just wants to exhibit his skills the old-fashioned way.

you were supportive for a while, but soon enough things started to get lonely. you’d let yourself into his dorm and sit in the corner watching his attempts. you did your homework, studied for exams, doom-scrolled on all four relevant social media apps. his franticness wasn’t appealing to watch either. stress kept causing his bloodshot brown eyes to squeeze shut, his hands becoming pure veins after gripping onto the mouse for hours on end. you even noticed how dwindling patience ate his skin in a desperate attempt to remain present. your boyfriend is losing sanity to this. you suddenly wish he hadn’t finished the semester early so he would have something better to do.

“jooyeon…baby…”

you carefully speak as he sulks, staring at the start screen he was brought back to. he eventually hums in response, evidently defeated.

“let’s take a break.” you think for a moment. “we should have quick picnic!”

jooyeon can’t seem to remember what the outdoors looks like, yet he remembers when he pictures you there. the boy loves picnics with you; they’re known for relieving stress when the both of you inevitably hit rock bottom during tough semesters. he’d find himself to be a monster if he refuses, being no better than the purple guy. the offer is given like a beam of light to his pale state. with his head fallen, he nods. you’re unable to see the soft, relieved smile cradling his face.

an hour later and you both find yourselves outside. he immediately finds comfort in everything, from the way the wind brushes his long hair behind him gently to the way the sun warms his cold skin back to honey. you fill him in how your classes have been treating you recently, and he tells you funny stories about his life since he gets the feeling you’re not interested in the strategies he has learned in recent days. it’s okay; this is the calmest he thinks he’s ever been.

eventually your bodies fall flat on the blanket, eyes scanning the array of colorful clouds above the sunset. occasionally, someone would pipe out what they’d see in those unique shapes in the sky. you point, “that’s a dog, for sure.”

he giggles, shifting his position as he searches for another one. it’s difficult. they all look like freddy fazbear.

“this game is starting to rot my brain.”

“they’re all freddy?” you ask.

he shrieks and nods, shielding his heated face in embarrassment. the two of you laugh in harmony and you playfully push him a little.

“you don’t have to beat the challenge…unless jiseok promised you some money…”

he sighs and shakes his head. “i just wanna achieve something. i wanna put hard work into something and then go around all high and mighty with my authentic medal, y’know?”

you reach for his sore hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the two of you continue to gaze at the pink sky above.

it’s beautiful, and when he turns to his side, you’re beautiful. everything about this setting is relaxing jooyeon, like not everything is about left light - right light - open camera to check on foxy - repeat. he’s instead thinking about how lucky he is to have something else to brag about: you. and before he could even express these feelings out loud, you bring up some advice.

“whenever i’m stuck on something, i get better with the more breaks i get in between attempts. i think playing back to back makes you more frustrated and the run can get sloppy, BUT if you take more breaks you can be way more precise!” you turn to him, shining him a smile. “but that’s what i think. everyone’s different. i just brought you out because i missed you.”

jooyeon laughs at you and the wisdom you always brought, “i missed you too. i’ll be sure to focus on you more.” he shifts himself one last time, looking back at the sky as your body curls to cuddle him with a perfect fit. “this is more our element anyways.”

the two of you finally relax in one another’s embrace, occasionally snacking and shooting sappy flirts to one another. your hands are still intertwined, and none of you plan on letting go any time soon.

jooyeon grabs his phone for a second, swiftly texting with one hand. he sends this message to jiseok.

i may not have beaten 4/20 mode yet but at least i have the best girlfriend ever !!!

jiseok responds,

that’s one more than i have rn so

you got me there 🙄

𖧷 do u guys wanna see what was in the drafts before this

[grapehyasynth]

young royals playlists - a collection

this is not by any means an exhaustive list - i'm just collecting. send me suggestions! character playlist, fic playlist, general show playlist, all fair game.

if you send me a playlist, please let me know if it's yours or someone else's, and let me know if you want other info attached (is it for a fic, for example).

alphabetical by playlist name.

shoutout to @books-books-smolderinglooks for getting this off to a riproaring start!

Almost Is Never Enough for the fic Almost Is Never Enough by @in-amor-veritas

cinnamon coffee for the fic That's What I Really Want by yr_bb

FEELS LIKE for the fic feels like by @willesworld

Grasping at Shadows for the fic Grasping at Shadows by @in-amor-veritas and paspeurpasseul

he(art)felt for the fic series he(art)felt by museraphoria

heavy is the head by @prncewilhelm

i see you in my future for the fic i see you in my future by @little-fandomfandom

i want you to hold me by @grapehyasynth

i want you (to take me out) for the fic i want you (to take me out) by @pleuvian

i would drive on (to the end with you) for the fic i would drive on (to the end w you) by @glassdollls

iwdo(ttewy) simon for the fic i would drive on (to the end w you) by @glassdollls

iwdo(ttewy) wille for the fic i would drive on (to the end w you) by @glassdollls

monotony blues for the fic Monotony Blues by @stardiveatnight

My Bad Wilmon for the fic My Bad by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Reckless Abandon for the fic Reckless Abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues

Rewrite the Stars for the fic series Rewrite the Stars by @in-amor-veritas

say a prayer for me in the dark for the fic say a prayer for me in the dark by @pleuvian

Simon Eriksson - Lights Down Low for the fic The Prince and The Popstar - Fuck The Monarchy and Other Hits by @pagegirlintraining and @the-amber-fox

simon's playlist by @glassdollls

Simon's Playlist AINE for the fic Almost Is Never Enough by @in-amor-veritas

The Boyband Fic for the fic Is It Over Now? by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

The humming for the fic The Humming by Everysongends

The Language of Roses for the fic The Language of Roses by despassurlaneige

the sound of our hearts for the fic the sound of our hearts by @simons-purplehoodie and @little-fandom

the vibe fm for the fic play my song by @ishotforthestars

unexpected melody playlist for the fic Unexpected Melody by emerybemery

we are dust and shadow for the fic we are dust and shadow by @pleuvian

We Left Footprints for the fic We Left Footprints When We Passed By by @in-amor-veritas

wilhelm & simon by @rhetorical-conscience

Wille's Playlist AINE for the fic Almost Is Never Enough by @in-amor-veritas

[constellationguy]

That Radio Show

Summary: In the absence of the radio demon listeners of hell find a new broadcast to enjoy.

Chapter three

Chapter one: The New Voice On the Air

Every child dreams to be famous when they grow up, you were no different. When you were younger you wanted nothing more than to have your voice heard from all corners of the globe, to be heard on every radio station, to have your voice ring in the ears of millions of people. You took countless vocal lessons as a kid to prepare you for audition after audition, however very little came from it. Until in high school, you landed a job with your local radio station and fell in love with the art form. You worked almost full time despite school work piling up, the high of being live on air was worth barely passing a class or two. You did school work while music played on air when you weren’t speaking, it was the best job in the world in your book and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Eventually you took over the station after you graduated, working from 5:30am to 6:00 in the afternoon on most days, but night shifts always had the best callers and the warmest ambiance. You pored your heart and soul into your work until you died in a freak hunting accident in 2017.

When you arrived in hell you had dear like qualities, “I guess getting shot like game turned you into game in the after life” you thought looking at your new doe like features. Being new to hell was such an uncomfortable feeling, however you tried to get yourself in your feet as soon as possible. You spent about half a year working in a tailor shop getting yourself a house and a phone. Once you got enough money you finally got yourself an office and radio equipment to start broadcasting within the month. To advertise the radio station you made a hellstagram account just simply named “That Radio Show”. Your bio stated “That Radio Show will be making its debut on station 66.62 fm on the air in 2 weeks time at 5:30am on XX,XX, 2017! Be sure to tune in and maybe give us a call while on the air to chat at (666)-xxx-xxxx or send us mail to read on the air at xxxxx PO Box. Can’t wait to be on the air!”. You made posts advertising your debut, and asking your followers about ideas what to name your new radio show, and of course song suggestions. To your surprise your account went viral and got millions of followers in just a few days, your dms and comments filled with suggestions and surprisingly sweet comments with very little backlash. So when you debuted at 5:30am you had thousands of listeners tune in. Just as 5:30am graced hells residents, a sweet piano piece started to echo through the streets of hell. You lowered the volume just slightly hoping it would give just enough ambiance to your broadcast before speaking.

“Good morning residents of hell.” you said cautious of the volume of your voice.

“It is currently 5:30am in Pentagram City and for many it is time to start the day. As some of you may know this is the debut broadcast of That Radio Show!” You said excitedly.

“So please be sure to check out That Radio Show on hellstagram to send in song suggestions. As this is my first day on the air I hope my dear listeners can treat me with some grace” you hummed.

“Well, I’ll let those of you who got woken up by me go back to sleep and those waking up in peace for a bit, here is “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire” by The Ink Spots”.

You then muted yourself before fading the piano music and changing it to the song. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held and smiled into your microphone. You spent about two hours introducing the next song in the broadcast order before you got your first call.

“That was “Let’s Do It” by Ella Fitzgerald. Such a sweet song this early in the morning don’t you think? Well-“ you were caught off guard by the phone ringing.

“It seems we have our first caller,” you answered the phone.

“Hello dear you’re on the air!”

“Oh darling!” a southern voice called through the phone.

“Your voice is just velvet to the ears of all of us in Cannibale Town, we are loving you down here darling! Keep up the tunes and let that voice shine.”

“Aw thank you dear,” you cooed into the microphone, “Such high praises on debut day, but nonetheless it is well appreciated.” Listeners could hear the smile in your voice and boy did it pull heart strings.

“Well of course darling, can’t let a beautiful voice go un-complemented, you have a good day now.” The lady said into the phone. “You too, Miss.” You exhaled, chuckling a bit, a smile evident in your tone.

“How sweet that was, ha, well it is currently 8:00am in Pentagram City and the weather is perfect for a morning walk. I hope you can take that opportunity and start your morning off right. This is “Je Te Leaisserai Des Mots” by Patrick Watson, hope you enjoy.” Once you muted yourself you practically squealed in joy with the blatant success of the radio show. Your hellstagram was full of comments praising your voice and pick if songs. The overwhelming support uncommon in hell was shocking and such a surprise, a welcome one though. You got a few more calls throughout the day, only one of them being rude and chastising radio for being an out of date media and flirting with you brazenly on the air.

“Oh that’s no way to speak to a lady, let alone live on air,” you cooed feigning innocence. You sent a devastatingly loud electroshock through the line and your callers line went dead as he fell to the floor.

“Oh dear it seems he hung up,” you chuckled “well- no matter, just remember dear listeners don’t be brazen and you won’t get shocked,” you said with edge in your voice. “Well, this is “Viola Sonata: 1. Largo” composed by Andrei Volkonsky.” You said giving out a light satisfying sigh. As the song closed your voice again rang in the heads of your listeners, “Well doesn’t that piece just tear at your terrible heart strings, such an erre sounding piece. How about something a bit lighter, this is “Bella Belle” by the Electric Swing Circus, hopefully a good dance will shake off any lingering weariness and tension, tune in and dance along, here’s Bella Belle”.

The rest of your day was rather uneventful.

“Well dear listeners, it is 6pm and my time on air is sadly up, don’t worry though. If you stay tuned into this station you’ll still hear music that I lined up to play until I get back tomorrow at 5:30am. Have a lovely evening sinners, I hope you all can tune in tomorrow.” You finally muted yourself for the last time today and leaded back into your chair sighing satisfied. You missed this feeling when you died. Well, no longer would you miss this feeling, you thought as you grab your things and left your office. Just as you locked up the owner of the building spawned behind you.

“SHIT-“ you yelled jumping and dropping your things.

“Such a jumpy thing you are,” the man teased to your annoyance. “You made a rise out of hell today toots, all the old souls have been craving a new voice to cling to after that old shit up and disappeared.” This man was just trying to get a rise out of you at this point but you indulged him, wouldn’t want to get kicked out of your office, he owned the building after all.

“Cut to the chase, what do you want,” you said shortly electricity dripping off your tongue.

“Oh I thought deer were jumpy and scarred things, never thought one would bite back so violently.” He said, voice full of tease and annoyance.

“Unless you are here to tell me about the this “old shit” of a senior I apparently have I would like to leave,” you said pushed through him going down the stair well.

“No need to be a bitch toots,” he called after you. You let it go for now, a little insults in exchange for a bit of information was a fair trade in your opinion.

After fixing yourself a meal you looked up your supposed senior, from what you could tell that “old shit” the building owner was talking about was the Radio Demon. He disappeared this year, a terrifying demon just up and left the public eye. From what you found online he was an overlord and a powerful one at that. He used is radio show is display his power, so this is what you were needed to live up to. Odd.

Chapter two: In the Eyes of the Public

With the radio demon’s disappearance there is less competition, you thought, though that’s a big role to fill for the public. No matter, you thought, you’ll learn to manage, he’ll be back soon… probably….

Everyday your influence on hell’s population grew, listening to your opinions and snide comments, hells older population absolutely fell in love with you. The younger population wasn’t to fond of radio as you were but, to each their own, as long as they keep their complaints between each other and not on your broadcast. As the months past the public grew fonder of you in the radio demons absence, you worry for his return but as months turn into years you worried less and less about him coming after you.

Well into your first year broadcasting you made a slip up that you somehow ended up in your favor.

“Good evening my dear listeners, it is currently 3:30pm in Pentagram City and this lovely winter has graced our dear city and lulled us into a somber mood. I can’t deny that I am not feeling it too so todays music is definitely in the feels today, here is “I’ll Never Smile Again” by Tommy Dorsey” you lowered a dial and muted yourself before sitting back and singing along to the music. Little did you know you turned down the songs volume and muted the piano you had playing in the background, not yourself. So as you listened to the light music and sang along to the sad tune all of hell could hear your voice. Many of your regular listeners simply enjoyed the show while newer listeners decided to record the song and it spread like wildfire, to your embarrassment.

You tried gloss over your mistake however hell seemed to love this little mishap and blew it way out of proportion. Soon enough your dear listeners began calling you “the princess of radio”. As much as you didn’t like the name at first, terrified for when the radio demon came back, it stuck and there was nothing you could do about it.

[withwritersblock]

No Caller ID

~No Caller ID by Megan Moroney~

Author's Note: requested! this is definitely my favorite song by her I think. italics are flashbacks Summary: Y/N and Jack broke up several months ago but he keeps crawling back and her friends are sick of it. Warnings: nothing too crazy Word Count: 1,405 Jack Hughes x fm!reader Part two

It has been six months since they broke up. It wasn’t entirely mutual but neither argued the idea of ending the relationship after she brought it up. Y/N needed space, being with a professional athlete was exhausting enough. But being with Jack Hughes was a whole different level.

But after the relationship ended she realized that it wasn’t a good one. Most of the relationship, he gave her reasons to be insecure. He was constantly going out after winning games, being suspiciously close to other girls. But she was convinced she was overreacting. 

Her friends said he was her kryptonite, she always had a soft spot for him, especially after they were together for nearly two years. 

It was also exhausting because every few weeks he’d give her a call. Even after the several times her friends forced her to block him. The same night, she would always unblock his number and wait for his call. 

She wanted to see him, but she knew she shouldn’t. Her friends were constantly lecturing her and right now was no different. 

While hanging out at her apartment, she received a call from him and her friends saw it.

“He hurt you, more than once and you’re still letting him!” her friend Georgia said. Her four other friends all nod and hum in unison. Y/N rolled her eyes as she reached for her phone. “He’s awful for you, you need to delete his number,” she further expressed. 

It was past three a.m. and she was awake because Jack called her thirty minutes ago. He begged to come over to see her. She sighed as her phone flashed on to show a text from him. It read that he was standing outside of her apartment.

She took a hold of her hoodie and covered her frame, she stepped into the hall, the woodened floor was icey against her feet as she delicately stepped past her roommates room. 

He wasn’t supposed to be coming over, he was still supposed to be blocked. She walked towards the front door. Unlocking the door, she pulled it open to see Jack standing outside of the door. He had a wide grin on his lips as his gaze scanned her frame. 

He stepped inside, delicately shutting the door behind him. 

“I missed you,” he whispered as he reached towards her, wrapping his arms around her. Wrapping her arms around the center of his back, she sunk into the hug; taking in the smell of his cologne. His hand ran along her hair as he shut his eyes.

“Come on, before my roommate hears us,” she whispered as she slipped from his grasp. Crossing her arms over her chest, she started walking away from him, knowing he would follow without a hesitation. 

Stepping into her room, she delicately shut the door behind Jack. He stood in front of her, smiling. “You look so pretty,” he whispered, he shook his head. 

She couldn’t tell if he was drunk. Assuming since it was past three in the morning he was, but usually he was touchy. But he wasn’t. 

“Just come on,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his arm and guided him towards her bed. She sat down, looking up towards him. Holding out his hands, she gladly took them. 

“We should stop sneaking around,” he brought up. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as she looked into his eyes. 

“Like get back together?” she asked while shaking her head slightly. He raised his hand up and rested it onto her cheek.

“Don’t you want that?” he asked. 

“I broke up with you,” she mumbled as she scooted back away from him. She leaned her head back against the headboard as she watched him sit down. 

“But you let me in,” he muttered as he reached his hand over and rested it beside her thigh. He leaned towards her, keeping a small distance.

“That doesn’t mean I want to get back together,” she said as she tilted her head to the side. His eyes scanned her features, lowering his gaze towards her lips. 

“Then why’d you let me in?” he asked as he leaned towards her. There was no sign that he was drunk. She wished he was drunk, it would be easier to say no. He leaned towards her. She didn’t move as she stared towards his lips, craving his lips on hers. 

“I don’t know,”  she let out barely above a whisper.

He was like a drug, every time she was around him she found herself intoxicated. She couldn’t breathe, she was so captivated by him.

“Can I kiss you?” he let out barely above a whispered. She nodded softly as her eyes were flickering all over his features. 

Leaning towards her, he delicately kissed her. Her entire body softened once his lips were on hers. He reached one of his hands up and delicately took a hold of her cheek. His lips were soft and comforting. She hummed against his lips as he slowly started to climb on top of her.

“I’ll block him, I promise. I swear that last night was the last time. I swear,” she expressed urgently, reaching towards her phone like a child reaching for candy. Georgia held the phone away from her.

“He was here last night?” Georgia asked, somewhat harshly. Y/N took in a sharp breath, trying to find something to defend herself with but nothing came to mind. “Y/N, girl, come on,”

“He wants to get back together,” she muttered as she avoided the gaze of every one of her friends in the room. They all let out a long dramatic groan. “I didn’t say I wanted to!” she defended. 

“What did you two do last night?” Bethany questioned as she stood up from the couch. Her eyes widened as she looked towards her suspiciously. 

“We just kissed, I promise,” she muttered as she shook her head.

“Kissed like a peck on the lips or did you two make out?” Georgia questioned as she delicately rested Y/N’s phone on the countertop.

“What’s the diff-difference?” she asked as she shyly crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh my god,” every girl in the room let out at the same time. 

“You ended things because of how he treated you, remember?” Georgia let out.

He pulled his lips away from hers as he watched her slowly open her eyes. She reached her hand up and delicately took a hold of his cheek. He leaned into her hand, shutting his eyes. 

He leaned down, pressing his lips against her forehead for a second before he pulled back away from her, looking down towards her. 

“I’ve missed being this close to you,” he whispered as he brushed a piece of hair away from her face. She pressed her lips together while looking deeply into his eye. 

“I’ve missed it too,” she mumbled as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip.

“Enough to want to get back together?” he asked as he scanned her features. 

She took a deep breath, “You weren’t a good boyfriend, Jack,” she let out barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back. 

“I was a dick, I know that. Can we start over?” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against her lips for a second. 

“Jack,” she let out as she ran her fingers through his hair, “You shouldn’t even be here.”

He chuckled as he rolled away from her, he laid on his back. Holding out his arms, she stared towards him. His lips fell into a pout as she didn’t lay with him right away. “Lay with me baby,” he let out barely above a whisper. 

Hesitantly, she laid down resting her head in the crook of his neck. His hand glided up and down her body, slipping beneath her hoodie to feel her skin.

“This is starting to sound like an intervention,” Y/N let out jokingly. Her friends didn’t find it funny as she sat down beside Bethany. “He’s out of my system, I promise. Next time he calls, I’ll send it to voicemail and every time after that. I swear,” 

Bethany pulled her towards her. Y/N rested her head onto her shoulder. “Why do you keep going back to him?” Bethany asked as she ran her hand up and down her arm. 

“Because sometimes he actually makes me feel good,” she muttered.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi! First of all I love your work ❤️ and I hope you have an awesome spring 🌱 ☀️

My request is both twins being competitive to gain the reader's affection (smut and fluff and a bit angst).

Thank you so much for opening requests.

Thank you so much!! I cannot believe we are spring already, this year is flying by! This has been an absolute pleasure to write, I hope you enjoy🖤

Warnings: smut, mentions of piv, oral fm receiving, fingering, fluff, angst. I’m sorry about the ending.

Words: 1.8k

Self Preservation.

Fred and George went together like rhubarb and custard; always complementary and very rarely ever seen without their counterpart. They’d grown up together, literally from the second their cells had split in the womb and formed two identical replicas of one another. They’d shared a bedroom, a blossoming business, most classes and the title of beater on the quidditch team, but they had never shared girls.

That was, until you came along.

Fred talked about you first, telling both George and Lee about this gorgeous, funny girl he’d apparently fallen for, something completely out of character for Fred Weasley. Unbeknownst to Fred, George had actually spotted you a few weeks earlier and had been harbouring a crush since that moment.

The twins were naturally competitive but up until this point it had very rarely been with each other, usually as a team and not pitted against one another. This was completely new territory. To make matters worse, you weren’t sure who you liked more. You’d admitted that you’d liked them both, and had made it very clear that you could tell them apart and it wasn’t because you saw them as the same person, but still you absolutely could not choose.

Though they were still on talking terms, the tension between them was palpable. Fred seemed to enjoy stealing you away from his sibling, putting on a display whereas George was quieter about it, ignoring his brother’s show.

“Evening love,” Fred grinned as you approached the twins on the sofa in the common room, tired from the long day and feeling very sleepy. George greeted you with a sweet smile and began to budge up to make room between the two brothers but Fred pulled you unceremoniously into his lap, locking his arms around you. You knew it was a power play in front of his brother but you were too tired to care, choosing instead to curl up into his lap, enjoying the warmth Fred seemed to naturally radiate. Your hand found George’s, not wanting him to feel left out and you entwined your fingers with a smile, feeling your eyes shutting.

When you wake, there’s no sound except the fire slowly crackling and the sound of someone breathing. You turn slightly and see that you’d fallen asleep on Fred, cuddled into his side with his arm around you. Someone must have strewn a blanket over the both of you as Fred had clearly also fallen asleep, but your movement seemed to rouse him, his leg twitching underneath you and some sort of groan slipping from his lips. When you looked up to his face you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing that a piece of parchment had been taped to his forehead. He frowns as you delicately peel it off, his eyes opening slowly, a smile forming on his lips as he looks at you so closely to him before he grows again, seeing the parchment.

‘Gone to bed sleepyheads, G’

You smile, showing Fred the note as he brings his hand up to run at his forehead where the tape had been.

“Just you and me then princess,” he smirks, pulling you back down onto him, quickly looking around to see that you were both alone in the common room.

You make a sort of pleased hum as you rest you head back onto his shoulder, bathing in the warm he radiated. When he shifts, trying to get comfy again there’s something noticeable underneath you, poking you right in the thigh.

“Fred,” you say, adjusting your head to look up at him from under your lashes, slightly shocked. He looks largely unfazed, smirking down at you with his eyes still shut.

“Beautiful girl in my lap wiggling about, what did you think would happen sweetheart?” You nudge him gently and hear his little breathy laugh, making you bounce slightly as you learn against his chest.

You nudge him playfully, making him inadvertently move against you and you suddenly hear the most beautiful breathy moan from him as your arse moves across his erection. It’s like a fire has been lit under your skin, the noise propelling you into arousal even though you’re tired and your eyes want to close, your body is most definitely focused on Fred.

You lean up to kiss him, surprising him slightly before he leans forward and accepts the kiss, his lips moving against yours. He takes control quickly, sensing the urgency and arousal in the kiss and scoops you up with his hands, adjusting you on the sofa until you’re underneath him. He’s beautiful in the light of the fire, his red hair looking like it’s own flames, face illuminated to showcase his best features. His hands paw at you whilst yours wrap into his hair and underneath the collar of his T-shirt, the mood and playfulness of the conversation disappearing quickly.

“Let me touch you baby, please,” he says against your lips, fingers dancing across your hip until he cups the globe of your bum, squeezing gently.

“Please Freddie,” you say, not wanting to break the kiss, your hips moving on their own accord. He smirks and begins to slip his hand into your trousers, toying with the thin strip of underwear at the side before his fingers trace further down.

You bite your lip to stop moaning out when his fingers finally make contact with your pussy, his deep groan muffled against your lips.

His fingers are perfect, long and thin but with the dexterity that could outshine seasoned wandmakers. When his fingers slip inside you, first one and then another you feel like you’re in heaven. He kisses you gently, allowing you pauses when he feels you pull away to quietly moan, knowing he was hitting every single one of your spots. It’s so dirty, to be out in the open like this, Fred on top of you with his hand so clearly down your trousers. You’re cumming in no time at all, his name falling from your lips as you hold him close.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says, pulling away from you slightly as you come down from your high, a smile on both of your faces.

Once you recovered, your hands slipped down across his chest towards the obvious tent in his trousers but he stopped you, making you frown.

“Rules princess,” he says, fighting his own intrusive thoughts.

There was only one rule that existed between the twins and their little competition with you; you could be pleasured in any way you wanted but nothing could happen with either of them until you’d chosen.

“Self-preservation,” George had put it.

“Torture,” Fred had retorted. But he’d relented, agreeing that if you were going to pick one, he didn’t want to know that you’d slept with his brother too. You agreed, understanding, but right now you weren’t so certain.

“But,” you argued, feeling guilty that he was still hard and without any resolution. You can see his mind whirling, weighing up his options as he looks at your flushed face and pleading eyes, his lip pulled between his teeth in worry. He sighs, shaking his head slightly.

“Rules is rules sweetheart- and that’s coming from me.”

You kissed him goodnight, still feeling guilty as he tries to hide the obvious erection from you and trotted off to bed to think. You’d come very, very close to breaking the pact, did that mean you wanted Fred? Or where you just horny and carried away?

The next morning at breakfast, George was the one to pull you down beside him, his hand already linking with yours under the table.

“Meet me at the prefect bathroom later?” He says quietly, whispering into your ear and making goosebumps rise up on your skin at the proximity of his lips. You don’t look at him directly but instead bite your lip and give a little nod, eyes glazed over with a mixture of mischief and arousal. It seemed your little moment with Fred last night had awakened something in you that wasn’t completely fulfilled.

Arriving at the bathroom, you paused to take in just how gorgeous George looked in his T-shirt and cord trousers as he turns and notices you stood there, a sweet smile pulling at his face. You were already aroused, the feeling never leaving you all day, remembering his lips so close to your ear at breakfast.

The kiss is passionate and needy, which he recognises instantly and matches your energy. His hands are everywhere, on your neck, your breasts and on your hip to hold you close to him. It’s greedy and you can’t help but rub yourself against him, trying to get any friction you can to give you the relief you need.

“I’ve got you Angel,” he says, “you want this?”

When he drops to his knees in front of you, you feel like you’re done for. You nod feverishly, feeling a little gush of excitement and arousal as he begins to pull at your jeans, slipping them down your leg and off, along with your panties before he reaches out to hook your leg over his shoulder.

He starts to kiss around your lips, your inner thighs and you let out a whine so loud that you’re worried someone will have heard. His tongue pokes out and slowly draws a line right from your little aching hole to your throbbing clit, patting your folds with the tip of his tongue as you gasp and moan, clutching his hair tightly between your fingers.

He teases for a little while before he suddenly begins feasting on your cunt, licking up your arousal and sucking on your sensitive flesh. His tongue flicks quickly over your clit, sucking and slurping at the little bud until you’re crying out his name, hips moving as you climax riding his face.

“George,” you say, the only thing you’re able to say. “Want you, please.”

You’re so desperate to be filled, so painfully aroused that you almost lose it. You know the consequences, as does George but you don’t care at all, too concerned with your need.

George barely even hesitates, slipping open his brown woven belt and pulling down his cords and boxers until his cock, long, hard and perfect is released. You’re seconds away from joining until you jump apart, scrambling for your clothes having been spooked by a noise of the door opening.

The colour drains from your face when you see the intruder starting between you and George, both naked from the waist down though trying to cover yourselves the best you can.

Fred.

[mak3itr7ght]

Pair: Jimin x fm!reader

Words count: 1235

A/N: just a very quick and out of contest scenario I imagined after listening 'Who' for the 192939939th time🫡 Hope you like it!

"Three minutes before getting on stage" the assistent announced before exiting the dressing room.

"Oi, so how was that date?" Hoseok approached his friend and roommate, Jimin. "Who was..oh, yes, that actress"

"I don't even want to talk about that-" Jimin cut his friend out. The older chuckled. "Was it really that bad?" He sat on the chair next to Jimin's, resting his chin the palm of his hand, curious.

"I went back home in the middle of the date because I couldn't stand her- she was so arrogant, and oddly flirty..ew" Jimin frowned at the memory. "What about you? You're not dating in ages, bro, at least i'm trying. You practically gave up" the blondie tried to swap the conversation.

Hobi shrugged. "I'm into my job for now. I don't feel like dating for now. I have this strange sensation, like i have to wait" he murmured, zoning out as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"Hyung, you've lived too much in your studio, in my opinion" Jimin joked, making Hobi smak his arm.

"Ouch-" Jimin faked pain, but then leaned against his chair. His hyung's words made him overthink.

"Anyway, let's get on stage, it's the first time we perform in Rome and i want to give a good impression to italian armys~" Hobi jumped on his feet and walked outside the dressing room.

Jimin didn't react to those words, he just heard them and hummed in response, still zoned out in his own mind.

Love, what a strange concept, especially for idols. They used to sign contracts that forced them to not date someone, and then most of them used to do it secretly from anyone. The media were always ruthless when it came to this topic. Even having the same necklaces with a person that probably was just a stranger could start a whole drama. That was truly shit. And, in the end, the whole media player work almost unconsciously pushed idols to search for rumors and scandals to gain more popularity. It was sick and toxic. And thank God Jimin and his friends didn't fall for that, even if there were a lot of temptations. Fame is dangerous, terribly dangerous. Jimin kept wondering if not dating and choosing to focus on himself was the best decision or just unnatural for an idol, because for the audience, idols must date! Not matter about their sexuality, because Jimin knew some asexual and aromantic people, so he started dating here and there, even without putting too much effort.

But that day, Hoseok's words made him realize that maybe not dating was more normal than he thought. Maybe his mind was already subconsciously linked with another woman or man, and that he didn't met him or her yet, just like the lyrics of his song, 'who', which he struggled to write, because, to quote him, 'he even forgot the last time he had a crush'.

The blondie kept mental tripping while rocking on his chair. When Namjoon went inside the room to call him again.

"I'm sorry! I was lost in thoughts!!" Jimin stood up and rushed outside.

Mics checked, in-ear monitors checked, another day, another concert of BTS's comeback tour after their discharge from military service. It was pretty long, many dates in many places of the world, all sold out, of course. And that was the first time the group performed in Italy in almost 13 years of career. What a day. Everyone was excited.

The concert started with their new title of their new album and the hours passed quicker than usual. A small break and then the solo-performances started. Jimin was the fourth, ready to perform 'Who'. He felt a strange sensation, like a tingle in his chest.

"No, i can't die now, come on. At least when I come back at the hotel" he told himself, trying to calm down and joke on that sensation.

And then, there he was, dancing and singing on stage, the choreography was composed to suit the concept of 'I love you, but I didn't even meet you yet', so Jimin had to dance with severals girls trying to find the right one, ending up alone on stage. That night, he felt that song more close to his self. While enjoying the Armys' cheering, shouting, crying and clapping he stared at some of them in the front rows. He loved his fans so much, recognizing his fame, the whole group's fame, was thanks to them. So he always used to look as many of them as he could, trying to remember at least vaguely their faces.

As his eyes met with one of them, that feeling on his chest intensified. I know what y'all are thinking and no, it wasn't like he fell in love, he just felt like he knew her, very deeply, just a veiled sensation, that kind of sensation that you can't even recognize or study enough because it's so delicate and fragile, yet unbreakable, and it's always there, you don't know it at all, but it's there, it gets louder when you're silently trying to sleep, and it gets quiter when your mind just turns off and focuses on the loud daily life. That was the moment Jimin felt that little pinch in his chest and it lasted less than a second. He didn't even see her properly, it was dark, the lights where flashing here and there and he was still boosted by adrenaline. That's why he stayed on stage even more than he had to and felt someone calling him from the backstage, it was Jungkook, ready to start with his 'Standing next to you' performance.

Jimin shook his head and rushed off the stage, quickly forgetting about that trance state he went in unconsciously. He went back in the dressing room where the other members were getting ready. Hobi approached him, a worried look in his eyes. "Oi, Jimin?" The brunette put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What happened? You seem off all of a sudden" He added.

Jimin just hugged him, out of nowhere.

"What's with this affection??!" Hobi scoffed, patting the younger's back before pulling away. He was slightly more worried at that point.

"I just felt like it.." Jimin commented, as he sat on one of those uncomfy couches near the mirrors.

Hoseok exchanged looks with the other members before looking back at Jimin. "You know what? I think tomorrow we should visit Rome"

"That's risky, we will have to prevent Jungkook from starting acting like a Roman warrior when we'll get into the Colosseum-" Yoongi laughed and the others followed.

Jimin chuckled too. Visiting the city, yeah, it sounded pretty good. Sounded...somewhat, right.

"Now now after the solo-perfromances, there will the the big pause and then the last-quarter of the set list, so let's revise the songs." Namjoon took the paper with the set list while one of the stylists where adjusting his hoodie.

"I think Armys will be happy to hear Airplane pt.2 again~" Taehyung commented while chewing a candy. "The audience is pretty cheering today~ I definitely want to comeback here next time" He added.

"I'll return here to perform The astronaut with Coldplay in a few months~" Jin pointed out, smirking.

"Why we took so long to come here?" Jimin wondered suddenly.

"Don't know, but now we're here and I think we'll have a great time" Hoseok patted his shoulder before standing.

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 4)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Chapter 4 in the building y'all!!!! I just needed to see my Buggy.

Part 1 can be found: Here

Part 2 is right: Here

Part 3: Right over yonder

Don't be afraid to send me any requests my loves and if you are waiting for the next installment I have another Mihawk story:

*Shadows of the Blade (Dracule Mihawk x Assassin reader)

If you like sexy swordplay and themes of overcoming trauma then this is the story for you!. If you wanna skip to the good stuff try chapter 3.

Backstory:

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

Also, muneca-chan= baby doll

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~

________________Chapter 4: A Clown's Counsel___________________

"Everything is going to be fine," you murmur softly, your voice echoing faintly into the open air. 

Your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stand alone in the vast, empty waters of the ocean. With a determined expression, you whisper reassuring words to yourself, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

"You've locked down the castle securely. You just need to make this quick trip and return before Mihawk, Perona, and Zoro even realize you're gone." Taking a deep breath, you glance around the dimly lit deck one last time before turning your attention to your bag.

With meticulous care, you rummage through its contents, double-checking that you have everything you need for your journey. Each item holds a significance, a memory of past adventures and encounters that fuels your determination.

'I am a pirate queen of all the oceans. I was raised on an island in the Grand line and chose to live a life of peace. I can fucking sail a boat!'

After hanging up with Shanks last night, you decided to get up and moving if you were going to make your trip in time. Mihawk rarely ever sent word of his return home, unless he wanted a specific dinner and wine waiting for him.

You knew you'd have anywhere from a few days to two months before you saw him again. With a long sigh, you held your face in your hands for a moment of calm. 

The weather had turned for the worst overnight leaving you to sail the nearby waters in the middle of a rain storm. But, you honestly didn't mind one bit. It reminded you of your home island and like the homesick tall-child you were, you stood there on your little boat without a jacket or umbrella.

Call you crazy, but you wished for it to rain harder so all the confusing emotions inside you could be washed away somehow. Looking behind you, your eyes caught the slight glimmer of two familiar objects looking out of the bag behind you.

"Mhm," walking over, you reached inside, allowing your fingers to grasp the handle of two familiar old friends. The golden ridges caught the light from your dimming lantern.

Two identical machetes gleamed back at you, a parting gift from your mother. Your native tongue etched into the blade, they possessed a soft hum, almost whispering out to you. The temptation to harness your belt on and feel them resting on your hips again was almost irresistible. But instead, you drew your bag closed over them and set it down once more.

Constantly fighting for your life and the life of your crew mates was not something you missed about the old life. Yes, battles of honor were fun and sometimes even lead to creating new friends, however, there were too many attempts of pure murder. 

As a caption, you very much followed Gold Rodgers example of what a pirate should be. However, you also believed in not looking for fights. Now, you weren't out of practice by any means, Mihawk would never allow that.

But you could feel yourself adjust instantly to this old way of living and it kinda bothered you. However, resisting the temptation let you know that you were still you. 

You really have come so far in life. <3

Satisfied that you are well-prepared, you make your way to the shores of a nearby island, your footsteps echoing softly in the silence of the night. As you reach the edge of the water, you pause, your gaze scanning the horizon with a sense of anticipation.

Knowing that discretion is key, you reach into your bag once more, retrieving a carefully crafted cloak. The rumors of your death would fool the general public, but not other pirates or worse- fame hungry pirate captions.

You disappeared under the deck for a moment to find an old mirror. Then with practiced precision, you transform your appearance, concealing your identity behind a clever facade. As you adjust the final details of your disguise, you feel a surge of confidence wash over you. A small smile reaches your lips before a giggle slips out.

'Shanks would love this.'

With your transformation complete, you set off along the shoreline, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of activity. This island was Buggy's last known location, and you are determined to find him. Every step brings you closer to your goal, your senses heightened with anticipation.

'Now or never.'

As you navigate the sandy shores, the salty breeze caresses your cheeks, invigorating your spirit with a sense of adventure. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a soft glow upon the landscape, guiding your way through the darkness.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grows, fueled by the promise of reunion and the thrill of the unknown. Your senses are sharp, attuned to the subtlest of sounds and movements, as you scan the surroundings for any sign of life.

And then, in the distance, you catch a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement amidst the shadows.

A big top. 

Without a second thought, you take off running in that direction. Unworried about the rain, you can barely hear the sound of your feet hitting the muddy ground over your pounding heart. Your breath quickens with excitement as you draw closer, your footsteps quickening with each stride.

"No you fucking shit head, it's WRONG!"

"Found you!"

Finally reaching the tent, you poked inside to see where that lovable asshole was. Ducking under the bleachers, you watched as a tall familiar figure threw a barrage of insults at some huddled performers. Several freaks were passing and going throughout the chaos to practice their acts and hone their talents. 

Amidst a flurry of activity, stood Buggy, his presence commanding attention amidst the chaos. You pause for a moment, watching him rehearse with his performers, a fond smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"If you can't get the lion to dance by this Friday, I am going to eat him. I don't give a FUCK how chewy he is!"

There stood a timid man with an animal that cowered before the infamous caption of the East Blue.

Ever the drama queen, Buggy's appearance was as flamboyant and eccentric as ever. He stood tall and proud, his colorful attire adorned with sequins and feathers that shimmered in the light. His hair, a riotous explosion of bright blue curls, framed his face in wild abandon, adding to his larger-than-life persona. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief and charm, were now almost bloodshot and darted around the room, taking in every detail with a keen sense of curiosity. 

You can't help but chuckle at Buggy's theatrics, a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of him. Despite his bombastic demeanor, you know there's a soft side to him that few ever see.

As the chaos around him continues, you take a moment to compose yourself before stepping out from your hiding spot. With a mischievous grin, you call out to him in a teasing tone:

"Now that's not nice and you know it." 

Buggy's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, "We're closed right now!"

"Oh, this dumbass." You roll your eyes under the hood before pulling it from your head. His eyes widening in surprise before a wide grin splits his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he strides forward, his arms open wide in welcome.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite troublemaker," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. With a dramatic flourish, he strides over to you, sweeping you into a tight hug that almost knocks the breath out of you.

Finding yourself unable to keep your composer, you giggle into the chest of the shockingly 6'5 man and snuggle into his chest to quil the ache in your heart, returning his embrace with just as much intensity.

"How've you been, sis?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern as he pulls back to look at you, his hands resting on the apples of your cheeks.

You relish in the familiar comfort of his presence. "Oh, you know, same old same old," you reply, trying to play it cool despite the category 8 hurricane of emotions swirling within you. "Just thought I'd drop by and say hello."

Buggy quirks an eyebrow at your casual tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh really? Or is there something else on your mind?" he teases, giving your left cheek a playful pinch with his fingers.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "Maybe a little bit of both," you admit, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

"I've missed you, Buggy. It's been too long."

Buggy's expression softens, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of your words. "I've missed you too, [Name]," he replies, his voice gentle as he squeezes your shoulders affectionately. "But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

As Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress, you take a deep breath, gathering the courage to confide in him. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You glance briefly at his performers, then lock eyes with Buggy again, a sense of urgency gripping your heart. "Got a place where we can chat in private?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper.

Buggy's expression flickers to something fierce, a glint of determination in his sea-green eyes as he analyzes you. Without a word, he stands tall, his shoulders squared, commanding the attention of his crew.

"Everyone is to keep performing," he announces firmly, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "And when I come back, that lion better know how to tap dance or I'm making good on my promise!" His crew responds with a chorus of "Eye Sir's!" before Buggy ushers you away, leading you to a different part of the tent.

With swift efficiency, he pushes you inside a dressing room adorned with a star, the blue clown's symbol adorning the door. As you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you in a cocoon of privacy.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you brace yourself for the conversation ahead, knowing that Buggy's keen intuition will leave no stone unturned. As you await his prompting, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, even in the face of your deepest secrets.

The dressing room is a small, cozy space adorned with whimsical decorations that reflect the flamboyant nature of its occupants. The walls are painted a soothing shade of sky blue, with colorful streamers cascading from the ceiling, adding a playful touch to the atmosphere.

In one corner of the room, a vanity table sits adorned with an assortment of makeup and accessories, its surface gleaming under the soft glow of a dim lamp. A large mirror framed in ornate gold stands at the center, reflecting the room's eclectic charm.

Against the opposite wall, a row of hooks holds an array of costumes, each garment more vibrant and extravagant than the last. Sequins sparkle in the light, and feathers flutter gently as if caught in an unseen breeze.

In the center of the room, a plush red armchair beckons invitingly, its cushions adorned with polka dots in varying shades of blue. A small side table sits nearby, stacked with magazines and trinkets, offering a glimpse into the eclectic tastes of its occupants. The air is tinged with the faint scent of powder and perfume, a lingering reminder of the performers who call this space their own.

Despite its small size, the dressing room exudes an undeniable sense of warmth and camaraderie, a sanctuary where secrets are shared and dreams take flight.

Walking over to the vanity, you plucked a familiar red lipstick off the dresser before turning it in your fingers. "Ya know, I used to hate when you'd steal my lipstick," Buggy joked softly, crossing his arms over the swell of his chest. 

Upon hearing his words, your fingers instinctively squeeze the familiar red lipstick perched on the edge of the dresser. You hold it tighter, feeling its smooth texture against your skin, a sense of nostalgia washing over you. Looking up in the vanity mirror, you make eye contact with Buggy. His eyes sparkle with fond memories, a playful glint dancing in their depths.

You chuckle softly at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you remember the countless times you had playfully raided his makeup collection. "Well, you always did have the best shade of red," you tease back, your voice laced with affection.

Setting the lipstick back down on the vanity, you turn to face Buggy, the warmth of his presence filling the room. Despite the gravity of the conversation looming between you, his easy demeanor brings a sense of comfort, grounding you in the present moment. 

(You know shits bad when you gotta go to the crazy killer pirate clown for advice and comfort. Love and life advice at that!)

As you lean against the vanity, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm hue across your features, you find yourself lost in a moment of quiet contemplation. Memories of past adventures with Buggy flood your mind, each one a vibrant snapshot of the bond you share.

"You know," Buggy begins, his tone softening as he meets your gaze, "I've missed having you around. Things just haven't been the same without your antics to liven up the place."

His words stir something deep within you, a mixture of gratitude and longing intertwining in your heart. Despite the passage of time and the distance between you, the connection you share with Buggy remains steadfast, a beacon of light in the darkness.

"I've missed you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been lonely without you."

A flicker of sadness crosses Buggy's features, his gaze softening with empathy. "I know, sweetheart," he says gently, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters." You gently grasp the back of his hand that cradles your face. Almost afraid that you'll wake up in that cold and empty castle again. The warmth of Buggy's palm anchors you to the human world.

In that moment, as you stand together in the quiet intimacy of the dressing room, you are reminded of the strength of your bond with Buggy. Through thick and thin, laughter and tears, you know that he will always be there for you, ready to offer his support and unwavering friendship.

No matter the situation, you'd always been there to defend Buggy and build each other's esteem up. Even Mihawk knew not to slip up when talking about the Flashy Jester if he didn't want to be shanked again. 

Speaking of Mihawk-

"So, you gonna tell me why you showed up all of a sudden instead of sending a letter or are we gonna stand here quietly together?" His voice snapping you out of your thoughts with the buzz of its low tone.

"Don't get me wrong muneca-chan, I love seeing you." He softly muses, stepping closer towards you until he pulled the stool from under the vanity out and sits you on it before dropping into his own red chair. 

"But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something really important I need to talk to you about. Shanks already knows before he called me last night, stop making that face, and you can't tell anyone else under any circumstances!"

Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts before speaking. "It's about love," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I think I have feelings for someone, Buggy."

"I think I'm in love."

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from concern to understanding.

"Ah, love," he murmurs, his voice soft with sympathy. "Love can be a tricky thing, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, [Name]," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for someone, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome."

You take in his words, feeling a sense of clarity wash over you. "Thank you, Buggy," you say softly, your voice filled with gratitude. "I needed to hear that."

Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, sis," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Now, let's hear who the lucky one is!" 

Your smile stiffens before you whisper out quietly. Buggy frowns and leans closer from his chair.

"What's that, starshine?" 

As you gather your thoughts, the weight of your confession is lingering heavy in the air. Buggy's concern deepens, his brow furrowing as he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

With a sigh, you summon the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's Mihawk," you confess, your words hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression a mixture of shock and understanding. "Mihawk?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"As in, Dracule Mihawk?"

You nod slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the truth finally comes to light. "Yes, Mihawk," you confirm, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "I... I think I'm in love with him."

Buggy's initial reaction catches you off guard. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, a look of concern flashes across his face. "Wait, hold on a second," he says, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

You nod, feeling a pang of uncertainty creeping in. "Yes, Buggy," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it sounds crazy, but... I think I might be in love with him."

Buggy's expression darkens, his features contorting into a mixture of shock and concern. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. "I mean, have you been feeling sick or something?"

You shake your head, a sense of frustration bubbling up within you. "No, Buggy, I'm not sick," you retort, a hint of irritation seeping into your tone. "I'm serious about this."

Buggy lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wild blue hair. "Look, muneca-chan," he begins, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "This isn't something to take lightly. Mihawk is... well, he's not exactly the most approachable guy, you know? And besides, he's your boss, for crying out loud!"

You feel a surge of defiance rising within you. "I know all of that, Buggy," you say firmly, your voice unwavering. "But I can't help how I feel."

Buggy's frustration mounts, and suddenly he's popping his hands off in a fit of anger.

"Has he been trying to feel up on you? OW- OKAY! PUT THE PALLET DOWN THAT ONE WAS EXPENSIVE!" 

While you were holding his makeup hostage, the clown was now rubbing where his hair brush had struck his pectoral. Slowly, you sat back down in the chair as he regarded you like a wild hellcat. A pit of dread now knotted your stomach. 

"I'm not joking Buggy, I need thoughts!" 

"And prayers, you're gonna need them with that eagle- NOT THE FUCKING FACE!" You lobbed a jar of hair cream at him before breaking down in the vanity stool. "Don't be an ass okay! I didn't say anything about you and Shanks!" You gasped, hoping that your voice wouldn't crack any further. 

The weight of your words hangs heavily in the air, and you realize just how much you've been holding back. "I... I'm sorry," you stammer, guilt washing over you as hot, fat tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

Before you can even register it, Buggy has crossed the room in a few quick strides and scooped you up into his strong arms, returning to his chair and settling you onto his lap like a small child.

With your face pressed into his striped shirt, you let the dam burst, unleashing all the pent-up tears you've been holding back. Buggy's hand runs soothingly over your back, cradling your head to his chest as he murmurs comforting words.

Reaching into his sleeve, he pulls out a ridiculously long handkerchief, prompting some weak laughter from you despite your tears.

"You've been doing that corny ass joke since we were kids," you sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose before he tosses the hanky into the wastebasket.

"Yeah, well, it still gets a laugh outta ya, so I'ma keep on with it," Buggy replies with a soft smile. He gazes down at you with those piercing eyes of his, scanning your face with a mixture of concern and affection.

Buggy lets out another exasperated sigh, his frustration evident but tempered by genuine worry. "Look, muneca-chan, I get it," he says, his voice gentler now. "Love can make you do crazy things, feel crazy things. But you need to be careful. Mihawk... he's a complicated guy. He's got a lot of walls up, and he's not exactly known for being... well, open-hearted. I know you guys are friends and I was shocked he let you stay with him. But love is a whole different ball game."

You nod, feeling a bit more grounded by his words and presence. "I know he's complicated, Buggy," you say, your voice steadier now. "But I can't help how I feel. I just needed to tell someone, to get it off my chest."

Buggy holds you a little tighter, his grip reassuring. "Well, you've told me now, and we'll figure this out together," he promises. "Just don't go making any rash decisions, okay? Take your time, think things through. And remember, no matter what happens, you've got me in your corner."

His words, laced with both caution and encouragement, bring a small but genuine smile to your face. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper, leaning into his embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime, starshine," he replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "We'll get through this, one step at a time." He wipes the tears from your face with his warm thumbs, "But promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't want to see you get hurt."

You can see the genuine concern in Buggy's eyes, and it touches your heart. Despite his gruff exterior, you know that he cares deeply for you, and his protective instincts are kicking in full force.

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, sis," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for Mihawk, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome." Your eyes glance over his right pec, knowing what picture was hidden inside that pocket. 

"But here's the thing about love, [Name]. It's not always easy to understand, and it's certainly not always convenient. But when you find someone who makes your heart skip a beat, someone who makes you feel alive in a way you've never felt before, well, you'd be a fool not to hold onto that with both hands."

Buggy's gaze softens, his features morphing into a look of genuine empathy. "Love is a complicated thing," he murmurs, his voice filled with compassion. "But if Mihawk is the one who holds your heart, then you owe it to yourself to pursue those feelings."

He gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his friendship and loyalty. "You'll figure it out, sis," he says, his voice filled with confidence. "And remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

His words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the turmoil of emotions that had been swirling inside you since Mihawk's departure. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place, the confusion and uncertainty giving way to a newfound clarity. Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Anytime, [Name]," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

You nod, grateful for Buggy's understanding and support. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper softly , a sense of gratitude flooding your heart. "I needed to hear that."

As you stand wrapped in Buggy's embrace, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. His arms are strong and comforting, a reminder of the unwavering bond you share. But as he pulls back, a toothy grin spreads across his face, and you catch a glimpse of a familiar, sinister gleam in his eyes.

"And if he fucks up," Buggy says, his voice low and menacing, "there's gonna be one less Warlord in the sea."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but chuckle nervously. Buggy's expression is a mix of protective determination and a hint of madness that you've come to recognize over the years. His blue curls frame his face, giving him an almost theatrical appearance, but you know better than to underestimate the seriousness behind his words.

His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, the room seems to grow darker as he continues. "I mean it, muneca-chan. Mihawk might be a badass with that big-ass sword of his, but he's no match for my flashy tricks. One wrong move, and I'll make sure he regrets it."

Buggy's eyes glint with a dangerous intensity, and you can tell that his big-brother instincts are in overdrive. Despite his eccentricities, you know that he would go to great lengths to ensure your happiness and safety. You reach out to place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently to remind him that you appreciate his concern.

"I know you would, Buggy," you say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. I just needed to talk to someone who understands."

Buggy's expression softens at your words, the sinister edge fading as he looks at you with genuine affection. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, rolling his eyes playfully. "Just remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

With that, he pulls you into another tight hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. You know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll always have Buggy by your side, ready to offer his unwavering support and friendship—even if it means taking on a Warlord of the sea.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably live a very boring and un-flashy life."

"Oh no~, what a nightmare, HEY!"

He flashed you a smile as you held your recently pinched side. 

"Now, let's get you set up to spend the night. We've got a lot to catch up on." 

______________________________________________________________

And that wraps up chapter 4 of this series. Oh I am going to make you all work for 'that' delicious chapter.~

Part 5 is now posted.

At the time of this being posted, 5/19/2024, there is a poll ongoing for what, you, the lovely readers, would love to be called. Be sure to cast your votes!!

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have a few Buggy the Clown x Reader's posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[wheezyseeker99]

Jealous

Warnings: pda to exhibitionism, swearing, teasing, fingering (female receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (fm) {it’s giving breeding too idk}

18+, MDNI

Summary: just jealousy inspired this one? His pov too because why not?

I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. Tonight she’s supposed to be mine. I’m supposed to be giving her attention, but she’s laughing at something this dumbass said to her across the bar.

I can’t pull my eyes from her. Her hair half up in a clip. Her dress that hugs her curves and her ass just right. Her sweet smile that I want to only be for me. I look over at the bartender and I clench my fists. He clearly wants her.

She was just sitting next to me a few minutes ago eating her dinner before she went to grab me a beer from the bar. I should’ve done it myself. She took my wallet so maybe this guy will see my name on my card and know she’s mine.

Her eyes reach mine from across the room and I tilt my chin up, puffing my chest out. I can see the way she bites her lip, but then the motherfucker distracts her again.

My blood boils in my veins. It’s not her fault that men hover near her, but fuck, do I get jealous.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s when dudes try to swing in and disrespect my soon-to-be wife all the time, and it pisses me off. Just because she’s the full package of a woman doesn’t mean they need to prey on her. The ring should ward them off, but apparently I need to buy her a larger rock to wear on her hand.

Call me obsessed, but nobody will ever get to taste her again as along as I’m alive. The ones that came before me have a death wish, and so do the ones that think they can steal her from me. She’s mine. It’s animalistic, the way I think about her in situations like these. She’s everything I need to survive. I’m so damn possessive when it comes to her.

I glance back over as he hands her a beer, and she turns to walk back to me. I don’t drag my eyes away from her this time. I step out of the booth when she walks up and she slides in while sitting down my drink and wallet.

“Thanks baby,” I say and kiss her forehead. I turn my head back to the bar for a moment and the bartender is still looking at her. I slide into the booth after her and place a hand over her bare thigh, giving it a squeeze. I lean down and place a couple kisses on her neck before claiming her lips with mine. I pull away and take a sip from my drink. She looks at me questionably.

“What’s going on Cam?”

“Nothing, just need you today.”

She hums like she doesn’t completely believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. My body is still on fire and it’s taking everything in me not to walk across the room to the bartender and throw punches.

She takes my hand, holding it in hers for a moment until she puts it back down on her thigh. I don’t say anything, I just tuck her hair behind her ear with my other hand and give her a chaste kiss.

“You know I know you’re jealous, right?”

“Of course you do,” I chuckle and place my forehead on hers, “you know everything about me.”

“You know everything about me too. So tell me what I’m thinking,” she says while placing a kiss to my jaw.

“You’re always thinking dangerous thoughts,” I tell her in a low tone.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Shes taunting me. It riles me up when she thinks she can be in control. I won’t allow that. I release my grip on her thigh and slide my hand below her dress. Usually she wears shorts under her dresses, but she didn’t tonight.

“Right here baby?”

She nods her head, giving me approval to keep going. She moves further into the booth and picks up her fork to keep eating her meal, looking at me expectantly.

I didn’t expect her to want me to finger her under the table, but I’m not objecting to it. Nobody will know a thing unless they see where my hand is. I cup her pussy under her dress and she whimpers quietly. I hold her eyes with mine as my hand moves aside the wet lace of her panties, tracing a finger up and down her slick folds. While picking up my beer with my right hand and take a drink, I circle her clit with my left hand. I place the bottle back down before I talk again.

“Is this what you wanted baby?”

She nodded her head in confirmation, not saying a word. I kiss her temple before pulling back to look at her. She’s biting her bottom lip. I want to taste her so bad.

“More?”

She nods again. I insert two fingers inside of her and I can tell she’s holding back a gasp. Fuck, that’s hot. I move them slowly in and out of her. She grasps my wrist under the table when I hook my fingers inside her.

“Anything else before I get the check for you two,” the waitress says from beside me and my eyes snap to her. My fingers still inside of my girl as her hand comes down to my thigh. I can feel her pussy clenching around my fingers. Shit. She definitely thought we were going to get caught just now.

“No just the check,” I say and take another swig of my beer. The waitress nods and turns away, then I take the opportunity to move my fingers faster. I move over so my mouth is next to her ear, “you know what’s going to happen baby?”

Her legs are starting to shake. I hook my fingers again, over and over. She doesn’t reply so I keep going. I circle my thumb around her clit and she gasps at the contact.

“You’re going to cum for me right here before the waitress gets back, and then I’m going to take you home and fill you up,” I growl into her ear and press a kiss just below it, “and baby, you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”

Her head rolls onto my shoulder and her eyes squeeze closed as she bites her lip. I don’t need to hear her tell me she’s about to finish, I can feel it on my fingers. Her body shakes and she whimpers into my shoulder. Watching her cum is an addiction that I never want to be cured of. This is exactly what I wanted. I feel my dick twitch in my pants. I need to be inside her.

“That’s it, ride it out baby. I’ve got you.”

I kiss down her neck and pull her underwear back over her pussy. Slowly, I lift my fingers to my mouth and lick her cum off of them. She watches me until her eyes catch on the waitress coming back to the table. I fish out my wallet without looking at the check and give her more than enough cash for the bill and her tip.

“Have a good night you two,” she says and leaves again. I make sure she’s gone before I swing back the rest of the beer. I grab my girl’s hand and drag her to the car. Before we even get to the car she’s digging into my pocket to get the key. I laugh at her enthusiasm. I open the door for her and close it before getting in on the drivers side.

“Do you think you can wait until we get home sweetheart?”

As much as I need to unload inside of her and watch her eyes roll back into her head, car sex isn’t her favorite. That, and we’re also not far from home.

“No promises Cam. You have 5 minutes until I lose my control.”

There it is. There’s my feral girl. I smile and start driving. Not even a minute down the road she releases her hair from her hair clip, and her hand starts stroking me over my pants. It’s impossible, how hard she gets me.

“Slow down or I’ll cum in my pants. You know you want it inside you baby,” I grit out.

She hums to herself but continues to touch me. I gulp and try to stay focused, but it’s hard to do that. Literally. The feeling of her hands always makes me hard. And shit, sometimes the thought of feeling her body against mine makes it hard for me to even breathe. She really does have me wrapped around her finger.

I pull in my parking spot, and before I could even cut off the engine, my girl is out of the car. I unlock the door and immediately attach my mouth to hers. My hands dig into her hips as I slam the door shut behind us, my mouth never leaving hers.

We don’t make it to the bedroom. I thought we would make it to the couch at least, but we fell to the rug in the living room, her straddling my hips. Her lips break from mine and are on my chest after she peels off my shirt. She peppers soft kisses across it, and then she trails kisses up my collarbone and the base of my throat. Her fingertips run down my stomach, making the path to set me free from the confines of my pants.

I love it when she doesn’t keep her hands to herself.

I tug off her dress and take her breasts into my hands around the same time she unbuckles my belt. I suck a nipple into my mouth and she grips my head. I feel her grinding onto me. This is driving me wild.

“Jesus Christ,” she screams as I bite down on the stiff peak.

“He has nothing to do with this right now darling,” I flick it gently with my tongue before moving over to the other, “who’s making you feel this good?”

“Cam,” she moans and I moan too. Our bodies are overheating despite being almost naked. She smells so good like this. Sweat, vanilla, and sex. Her fingers curl into the sweaty hair at the nape of my neck and she tugs.

“Oh?” I ask and smirk against her skin, “are you going to cum from just this? I’ve barely begun to touch you baby.”

She nods and tugs my hair again. She’s everything to me. Fucking perfect.

”I love it when you pull my hair. It means you’re close.”

Holy shit, I want to taste every inch of her. Desperately. I slide my hands to her hips and moved her against me until her body shakes. She’s soaking through her panties when I lay her on her back. Pulling off the rest of my clothes is a task, but I manage it and then take off her soaking panties.

My pretty girl is still panting on the rug. I bring her lips to mine in another soul-satisfying kiss. I groan into her mouth because fuck, her lips are heavenly. Her leg hooks around my waist and she grinds into me, gliding my dick against her wetness. It wasn’t enough to ease the ache. I can feel every fucking inch of her beneath me and I need more. I’m so selfish. I can’t get enough. She gasps against my lips when I release her lips from mine.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell her. I grip her chin between my fingers, forcing her pretty eyes to meet mine. I run a finger over her bottom lip as she watched me, “that’s right, look at me. You belong to me.”

I’m too far gone for her, and I’ve had enough teasing. It’s beyond time to give my needy girl what she needs. What I need. I pushed into her slowly with a groan and she writhes beneath me.

“More Cam, please,” she breathes.

Somewhere in my consciousness, I know I’m going to bust in a matter of minutes, but I’ll keep going until she sees stars. I give in and speed up almost instantly, keeping a steady pace just how she likes it. She bucks her hips into me, taking me deeper with every thrust.

“That’s my girl,” I mumble, “take everything I give you.”

She clenches around my cock and it feels too good. It’s always too good. So wet and warm, and each stroke makes my spine tingle. I reach my hand between us and place my thumb on her clit. Her hands tug on the strands of my hair again. Yeah, she’s going to cum soon.

A guttural noise comes out of my throat and speed up my thrusts. My head falls to her chest. I’m almost on the edge, but the selfish part of my brain needs her to cum first.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I moan into her skin. Every roll of our hips is sending me into a never ending spiral.

I love being deep inside her. I love the way we fit together. I love her.

“Cum,” I command her. She whines out my name softly before crying out. I watch her as she climaxes. Her eyes roll back and her legs shake. She clenches hard around me and I hold onto her thighs while riding out her orgasm. I continue my thrusts, pounding into her.

“Fill me up Cam,” she whimpers.

I bring my mouth back to hers once again and I see stars. I cum into her immediately. I feel like I’ll never stop. Fuck, she’s ruined me. She drags her lips down the column of my throat as I cum into her. I sink deeper and still my thrusts inside her.

My head falls into the crook of her neck. I can’t stop cumming. My climax makes my body shake in pleasure. I never want it to stop. Everything feels so intense.

I don’t know how many minutes we stay in the same position. I feel like I melted into her. I roll over on the rug next to her and place tender kisses on her shoulder, and then bring her ring finger up to my lips, “so good. I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I shouldn’t have been jealous, huh baby?”

“Nope but I enjoyed the outcome,” she laughed, “now we need to go up to bed and do it again.”

My eyes flare at her, “at least give me 5 minutes to recuperate. You’re filled already.”

“Fill me more.”

She gives me a little smirk and leans up to bite my bottom lip. My feral girl. Tonight definitely isn’t stopping here.

She’s going to be the death of me, and I’m perfectly okay with that.

[cuti3pi5]

Once upon a dream

Pairings- Hyunjin x FM reader 

 Summary- Prince Hyunjin the eldest son of the royal family was destined to rule the kingdom. Prince Hyunjin had undergone rigorous training to soon take over the throne. His skills with a blade were unmatched. He was more than fit to rule his father's kingdom. Yet he was assigned a final task to prove his worthiness for the throne. His father had given him the task of entering the dangerous enchanted forest. He must slay the powerful wicked fairy and retrieve her wings only then will he earn his throne and be crowned king. But what happens once Hyunjin meets this fairy and realizes she might not be as evil as the rumors are.

 Genre- Fluff

 Word count- 2.0k

AN-Hello!! Sorry, I took so long on the post, was very busy and also wanted to make sure the writing was good enough. Its definitely not perfect but I've been wanting to give writing a try so feel free to point out any mistakes or opinions to help me improve!!

-------——————————- ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—————————-----------

 Y/N sat under a blossom tree seeking shade from the sun. Its falling petals scattered the ground 

she hums softly as she flips through an old book. She inhales the rich scent of the pages. Its aroma reminded her of the forest and a crunchy pile of leaves around her. Her soft fingers gently glide across the pages taking in each word she reads. Her luminescent wings fluttered behind her as she read. , her wings shimmering like precious jewels in the sunlight.

 She soon became intrigued by the book and the story in it losing all attention to the forest around her. Her head was in the clouds as she flipped through each page becoming more immersed in her romance story. Nothing could seem to break her concentration not even the soft birds chirping or the sound of crickets. But she soon was returned to reality as she heard heavy footsteps coming closer behind her. 

“Do not move”, the voice demanded.  Startled she drops her book. She turned around to find a man holding a gleaming sword. “Who are you?” Y/N askes the armord man infront of her. She examines the man before her. He has mesmerizing dark brown eyes. A small mole beneath one of them only added more to his beauty. His soft pink plump lips almost even seemed inviting. Long silky black hair that falls like a cascade, its tips grazing his shoulders, half of it being held up in a small ponytail by a delicate white ribbon. Frot pieces of his hair frame his face making his appearance seem softer. This unknown man possessed a breathtaking ethereal beauty that captivated the beholder's senses and transported them to a realm of otherworldly grace. 

“Who are you’, She asked one more as she examined the man who stood before her. “I am Prince Hyunjin. What may be your name?” Hyunjin asked. “You're a prince?” the fairy gushed with excitement not even answering his question. She fluttered her delicate wings as she flew towards the boy. Her translucent wings seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. “I’ve never met a real-life prince before!”. The prince was taken aback by the fairy's words. He was used to having his family, people, and knights praise him like he was a god but not a fae. 

Her features seemed so soft and innocent. Her cheeks and lips were red as rose and her wings looked delicate as if it were a flower petle. He imagined that they’d feel like silk if he were to run his hands across them. Was this really the evil monster he was met to kill? The sweet that stared at him with such joy and fascination truly evil? She’s probably trying to trick him, make him bring his guard down, Hyunjin thought.

He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. He stared up at the girl who flew above him, her wings making a soft buzzing noise as they fluttered. She gently cupped his cheeks and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Before Hyunjin could say anything about the girl’s hand placement she spoke up. “Are you sure you're a prince?” she said confused. She flew back to the tree retrieving the book she had been reading. Quickly she flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. Y/n held the book next to the prince. Her lips pursed as she looked at Hyunjin and then at that book.

“What is it?” Hyunjin asked annoyed by the fairy’s antics. “You don’t look like the prince in my book,” Y/N said. In the old tattered book was a drawing of a prince. He wore a baby blue suit with a golden crown adorned with colorful jewels. 

“Where is your blue suit and your crown? I thought all princes wore crowns?” She asked him. Hyunjin took the book from her and began to browse through it before his eyes landed on the picture of the handsome prince depicted in the book.  “I have been traveling through this damned forest all day so please forgive me if I don’t compare to that perfect prince in your book!”. His temper was starting to get the best of him. He felt as if the fairy was trying to mess with him… but she was right. He was not like the prince in her book. This prince looked clean and pristine compared to Hyunjin who was in armor that had become dirtied from walking through the enchanted forest all day. 

An idea then popped into Hyunjin’s head. The fairy seemed to be playing innocent so hell play along pretending to trust her and catch her once she was vulnerable. She really did seem sweet and kind but Hyunjin was determined to return to his kingdom with her wings and prove to his father that he was worthy of becoming king. He quickly washed away his doubt and began his plan.

Quickly changing his annoyed expression he put on the nicest face he could trying to appear sweet and inviting to Y/N. “I'm sorry for my outburst” Hyunjin apologized. “ I have lost my way in this enchanted forest. I fear the dangers of the night.” He lied hoping that the fairy would believe him.

As Y/N thought about the prince's issue, she hesitated before speaking.. "It is far too dangerous to travel through the enchanted forest at night," she cautioned. "Rest here, and when the day breaks, you may continue your journey."

  She couldn't help but be enthralled by the prince only ever hearing about them from the books she would often read.

It was then that Hyunjin made up his mind to go ahead with his plan. In the midst of her sleep, he would take her wings.

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As nightfall drew closer Y/N led the prince to her hidden sanctuary deep within the heart of the enchanted forest. Her sanctuary was a place of serene beauty, filled with lush vegetation, vibrant flowers, and crystal-clear streams. The trees in this part of the forest are ancient and towering, casting a dappled canopy of shade that creates an otherworldly atmosphere. 

Hyunjin had set up a small fireplace close to her bed of delicate flowers in which she slept on every night. “You’ll be safe here,” Y/N said. The fairy’s kindness seemed genuine, and Hyunjin's conscience weighed heavily upon him as the night descended. But he didn't want to disappoint his father or his kingdom. He tried to push his doubts but struggled. 

It was now late at night and Hyunjin had discarded his armor for comfort They sat by a crackling fire. With every passing moment, he felt more and more drawn to the beautiful creature. She was so gentle and graceful. He admired the way she cared for the nature around her. Her eyes lit up whenever Hyunjin asked about the forest or the books she read. He told himself that this was all part of his plan and that he was just trying to gain her trust but deep down he knew he was lying to himself. Truth was he was so fascinated by her and wanted to know everything about her. They sat by a crackling fire, and Seraphina shared tales of her solitary existence and the harmony she had maintained in the forest.

With a glint of starlight in her eyes, Y/N approached Hyunjin, her wings glistening in the soft glow of the forest. "I have read about princes who danced with grace and courage,," she admitted, her voice carrying the wonder of a thousand stories. "Would you honor me with a dance, Prince Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin, taken aback by the fairy queen's request, could not resist the sincerity and innocence in her eyes. "I would be delighted," he replied, extending his hand to her.

As they began to dance, the forest seemed to hold its breath, enchanted by the rare spectacle unfolding in its midst. She moved with a grace that surpassed the wildest imaginations found in the books she had read. Hyunjin, in turn, was captivated not only by her ethereal beauty but by the genuine joy and awe in her expression.

The moon cast a silver radiance upon them as they twirled and spun in the glade. Fireflies joined the dance, creating a luminous spectacle that painted the forest with a magical glow. The soft rustle of leaves accompanied the rhythm of their dance, creating a symphony.

As they danced, Seraphina's heart beat faster than the wings on her back.The connection between them went beyond the steps of the dance; it was a meeting of two souls drawn together by destiny. 

But their magical night had come to an end. As they danced for what felt like hours Y/N had danced till her feet gave out. She fell onto her flower bed fast asleep. Hyunjin knew that his time had run out and it was time to carry on his  task.

But when he found her there ,her wings folded gently against her back as she laid in the delicate bed of roses, he felt as if his heart was about to burst. Hyunjin rose silently. His heart pounded with guilt and uncertainty as he drew his sword with trembling hands. The moonlight danced on the blade, casting an ominous gleam.

But as Hyunijn stood poised to take her wings, a voice within him, a glimmer of his true self, whispered that this was wrong. He had come to know the real Seraphina, the guardian of the forest, and he could not bring himself to harm her.

He looked at her as she slept. She seemed so beautiful and delicate in her sleep. She had made Hyunjin feel a foreign emotion. On he was able to make out. He had enjoyed her touch an preccces and was hypnotized by her beauty. He had a yearning to touch her, hold her in his arms and protect her. 

No other woman had ever made the prince feel such an emotion. Not even the woman who would fall to his feet or the princess he’d meet at parties. No one had given him this feeling.

With a heavy heart he drew back his sword, dropping onto the ground making a loud thud as it hit forest ground. He couldn't bring himself to harm an innocent being, even if it meant fulfilling his royal duty.

Overwhelmed with guilt and remorse, Hyunjin returned to the fire, his face etched with the internal struggle he had just faced. He watched Y/N as she slept peacefully, knowing he could never betray her trust. His heart had been changed by her kindness, and he couldn't carry out his father's wicked plan all though this delicious would have heavy consequences.

With the dawn's light breaking through the trees, he decided to reveal the truth to Y/N. He would confess his initial intention and hope that she could find it within her heart to forgive him for the deception. Gabriel longed to forge a genuine connection with the fairy queen, for he had come to see her as a beacon of grace and kindness in the midst of the enchanted forest.

She looked at him with eyes as deep and mysterious as the forest itself, a mixture of curiosity and sadness. She remained silent and Hyunjin felt his heart sink. He knew he had to make amends. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, determined to earn her trust.  He bowed his head and began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion. The fairy queen's face softened and she nodded, seemingly accepting his apology. She stepped forward and embraced him, her wings gently fluttering.

He knew it was too soon to reveal his feelings for her but he still wished to see her. Over days and nights, Hyunjin and Y/N continued to converse. They explored the forest together, discovering its wonders and mysteries. Soon the prince's cold heart was replaced by a deep love and admiration for Y/n.

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@starlostlaiba