#Hum FM

[withwritersblock]

Hold My Hand

~Hold my Hand by The Fray~

Author's Note: I am obsessed with this trope. Tooth rotting fluff Summary: Jack takes care of Y/N after a night out Warnings: nothing Word Count: 3,079 Jack Hughes x fm!reader

She rarely got drunk. Drinking was something that she would only do if it was only one drink that lasted the entire night. Tonight, she found herself drinking more than one. More than two and definitely more than three. 

Her friend Hailey was having a bachelorette party at a club that was catered towards country music fans. It was a Friday night and the club was so packed. The area dedicated to the line dances was now a giant mosh pit where everyone was dancing and grinding against one another. 

Y/N stayed on the outside of the circle, dancing by herself surrounded by her friends. Her hands were up in the air as she was swaying back and forth letting the vodka in her system take over. 

A gasp fell from her lips as hands looped around her waist, she shoved them away as she spun around seeing a complete stranger trying to dance with her. She shook her head, tossing her balance with her. “I have a boyfriend!” she shouted towards him, crossing her arms over her chest. A dramatic pout fell to her lips as she began walking away from the group.

She was always a fan of the good ol’ Irish goodbye where she would disappear some time in the night. It was usually after the two in the morning mark when she would disappear and head home. Since she never would drink, the girls always assumed she went straight home.

She pulled her phone out of the small purse she carried with her that only had her phone, ID, and credit card in it. She began searching for his contact as she needed to go home. She brought the phone towards her ear as she began walking towards the exit of the club. 

The phone only rang a few times before he answered. “Hey baby, you okay?” Jack asked, his voice rasped slightly; almost as if he was asleep before he answered.

“I miss you, can you come p-pick me up?” she slurred as she leaned against an open table.

“I’m already on my way, baby, I’ll be there in like ten minutes,” he offered, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Are you drunk?” he asked, an evident grin on his lips. She didn’t say anything, instead she let out a long dramatic hum that went to the beat of the music in the club. “Be outside in five minutes, okay?” Jack explained softly.

“Okay,” she sang out as she pulled the phone from her ear as she struggled to place it bak into her tiny bag. 

She leaned against the table, shifting her gaze towards the exit. She tilted her head back as she took a deep breath. Pushing off of the table, she stumbled forward towards the exit. Desperate for fresh air, even more desperate to see her boyfriend. She squeezed through a few people as she stumbled outside to not fresh air but instead an aggressive smell of cigarettes.

Her lips fell into a pout as she walked towards a bench that had no one sitting at. The bench bars were cold against her steaming hot skin. Her frame was only covered with a black tight skirt as well as a matching black top. A huff of air left her lips as she dug for her phone in the small bag.

She pulled the phone out of the bag and stared towards her lockscreen. It was a photo of Jack that she took during Christmas this past year. He was half asleep as he was trying to open the present she had gotten him. His face was sunken deeply into a hoodie. She tilted her head to the side as she continued to look over the photo; admiring the soft smile on his lips and his tired eyes.

It took only a few more minutes for Jack to pull up in front of her. She stood up, adjusting the ends of her skirt. She stood still, shoving her phone back into the tiny purse. She watched as Jack climbed out of the car. He left the car on and the door open. He was wearing a hoodie and matching sweatpants.

“My boyfriend!” she cheered out as she tilted her head to the side and swayed slightly. Jack shook his head while laughing. Quickly, he walked up towards her.

She stood still waiting for him to walk up towards her. “Let’s go, baby,” he let out softly. She shook her head as she waited for him. He stood directly in front of her and took a deep breath. Delicately he took a hold of her waist and pulled her towards him. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaping towards him. He giggled as he lifted her off of the ground, “Did you have fun?” he asked softly as he pressed his lips against her cheek.

“I’m so drunk,” she mumbled as she pulled back, meeting his eye. Her lips fell into a pout. He chuckled as he shook his head slightly. “Don’t laugh at me,” she whined out.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. Let’s go back to my place,” he mumbled as he began to guide her towards the passenger side of the car.

“Okay,” she said as she leaned into him. Jack carefully pulled the passenger door open. Y/N slowly began to climb into the passenger seat. She sat down, her feet still dangled outside of the car. Jack took a hold of her ankles, putting them inside of the car. He leaned back getting ready to shut the door. “Where are you going?” 

Jack paused for a moment, holding the door and looking towards her. His mouth fell open as he fought another laugh rising in his throat. “I gotta get in the car, babe,” he let out somewhat jokingly.

Her eyebrows furrowed harshly as she let out a soft laugh. “Oh yeah,” she mumbled through a gigle. He rolled his eyes playfully as he carefully shut the door for her. He instantly jogged around the car towards the driver seat, the door was still open and he quickly sat down in the seat. He slammed the door shut and looked towards her instantly. 

“Gotta be quiet when we get back to my place, Lukey is asleep, okay?” he explained as he reached towards her, taking a hold of her seatbelt. Slowly, he locked it into place before he sat back down into his seat.

“You’re the loud one,” she whispered as she felt her head start to get heavy. He chuckled as he put on his own seat belt the same time he began to pull out of the parking spot.

“I beg to differ,” he teased as he continued driving down the street towards his apartment. 

A pout fell onto her lips as she reached towards him, taking a hold of his free hand and interlocking their fingers. “Don’t be mean,” she mumbled as he raised his hand up and kissed the back of her hand.

“How am I being mean?” he asked while laughing.

“You’re laughing at me again!” she mumbled as she pulled her hand away from him. He rolled his eyes playfully as he reached over and took a hold of her thigh. His thumb started gliding along her skin. She tilted her head back, looking towards Jack.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he let out through a grin. “You’re just adorable,” he teased. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she stared towards his hand on her thigh. Her fingertips trialed over his hand. 

The drive back to his apartment only took a few more minutes. He pulled up towards his parking spot and put the car into park and instantly took his keys out. “Almost there, my love,” he mumbled as he pushed the car door open. She let out a dramatic sigh as she began trying to take the seat belt off of her frame. She unbuckled it and pulled it from her frame.

He slammed his car door shut as he jogged around towards the passenger side, where she had already opened the door. Jack held the door open, waiting for her to climb out of the car. It took her several seconds but she was able to stand up from the seat. Her clutch purse in her hand. 

Lifting her head up slowly, delayed as her vision was blurred slightly. He took a hold of her waist, guiding her away from the passenger door. He slammed it shut and took a hold of his keys to lock his car. “Let’s get you ready for bed,” he whispered in her ear before pressing his lips against her cheek. He kept both hands on her waist as he helped her towards the lobby doors. 

“I’m not tired,” she mumbled as she straightened her poster slightly as he guided her towards the doors.

“Oh really?” he asked teasingly before he pressed his lips against her shoulder. She hummed dramatically as she pulled away from his grasp. He let his arms hang beside him as he watched her take fast steps away from him. She spun around and began to walk backwards. 

“I’ve got big plans for you tonight,” she teased as she continued walking ahead, she smirked as she scanned his frame. 

Jack rolled his eyes playfully. There would be no plans. She was too drunk to even stand up without swaying back and forth. He would never even think about doing anything with her in this state, despite her best efforts. It was almost definite that she would fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow in his bedroom.

“Big plans?” he asked teasingly as he walked up towards her, replanting his hands onto her hips. She pressed her back against his chest for support.

“So many,” she mumbled as they entered the lobby, he nodded towards the night desk clerk before he walked towards the elevator. “I’m gonna let you do–”

“Okay!” he interrupted her as he quickly pushed the elevator door button several times. Jack glanced towards the person at the desk before he spun their bodies around. He leaned into her ear, “Quiet baby,” he whispered before he pressed his lips just beneath her ear.

“Make me,” she let out teasingly. Jack’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open. She spun around, resting her hands on the base of his neck. She looked deeply into his eyes as the elevator doors opened behind them. Without hesitation, Jack guided her into the elevator, practically lifting her into the elevator. 

“We’re not doing this,” Jack let out as a soft chuckle fell from his lips.

Her hands started gliding through his hair as her lips fell into a pout. Jack leaned back, pressing the button for his floor. “Why not?” she whined as she leaned towards him, pecking his lips briefly.

He chuckled as he leaned back. “You are drunk,” he explained as he raised his and up and brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.

“So?” she let out as her body leaned into him. He stablized her as he tilted his head to the side, looking into her drunken gaze. “You can still kiss me,” she offered as her gaze dipped towards his lips.

“Maybe,” he mumbled as the doors soon opened to reveal his floor. Slowly, he spun her body around as he rested his hands onto her waist again. “Remember, gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered as they walked up towards the door.

“Make me,” she teased again. He squeezed her hips before he looped one of his hands around her stomach before he pulled his keys from his pocket. 

“Please,” he let out as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. She nodded as Jack began to guide her inside. Her heels instantly started clacking against the hardwood flooring. He cringed at every step she made. Luke was always a light sleeper and hated getting woken up. Jack did not want to have to deal with that.

She reached towards the wall beside the door for support, her heels hitting the floor harder it seemed. Jack clenched his jaw as the sound echoed through the quiet apartment.

Jack reached towards her, taking a hold of her waist and lifting her up from the ground. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck for support. “Hey! Wh-What are you doing?” she let out loudly. 

Jack delicately tapped his hand against the back of her thighs, “Shhh,” he let out as he carried her towards the couch.

Carefully, he placed her down onto the couch. Slowly, he glided his hands away from her frame as he sat down beside her. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as her lips fell into a dramatic pout. 

“You’re not very nice,” she whispered dramatically. He smirked as he looked down towards her. Delicately, he took a hold of her legs, draping them over his lap. Teasingly he ran his hand up and down her legs. He watched her tilt her head back and let out a huff of air.

“How am I not nice?” he asked teasingly as he lifted one of her legs up as he took a hold of her heel and delicately pulled it from her foot. He leaned down and placed it down onto the floor. Slowly, he did the same with her other heel.

“You won’t kiss me,” she let out while shaking her head dramatically. Her eyes widened as she suddenly got dizzy. He chuckled as he lifted her legs up so he could stand up from the couch. Carefully, he leaned down and took a hold of her heels. 

“Let me get you ready for bed and then maybe I’ll kiss you,” he teased as he placed her heels near the shoe rack by the front door. Quickly kicking his own shoes near the rack, he jogged back towards the couch. Her eyes were shut as she was letting her head hang slightly. 

He leaned down and took a hold of her arms, trying to make her stand up. “No, I’m good here,” she whined out. Jack chuckled as he pulled her up anyway. Her eyes opened up and she reluctantly stood up in front of him. “I–I was comfy,” she mumbled.

“You’ll be more comfy in bed, come on baby,” he whispered as he guided her towards his bedroom. His hands were on her waist, practically holding her up since she was so tired. She hummed as he pushed open the door. Slowly, she pulled away from his grasp as she practically nose dived towards the bed. 

Jack leaped towards her trying to stop her from falling onto the bed. He stopped as he watched her grip the comforter tightly beneath her head. He smiled softly as he walked towards the door and shut it.

“Honey, do you wanna go take a shower or get into something more comfortable?” he offered as he walked towards the bed. She hummed as she kept her body on the bed. He sat down beside her, he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face, “Come on, baby,” he offered.

“No, I’m comfy here,” she mumbled.

“I’m going to grab some clothes for you, okay?” he explained. She nodded as she fluttered her eyes open. He stood up and walked towards his closet, glancing towards Y/N. Her body was hanging half of the bed. He rolled his eyes playfully as he took the first t-shirt he saw off the hanger. He took a hold of a pair of shorts that she left behind a few weeks back.

He stepped out of the closet and walked towards the bed. “Y/N,” he let out softly as he watched her reluctantly sit up.

“You’re trying to get me naked,” she offered as she looked up towards him as he walked towards her. He chuckled as he held up the t-shirt and shorts towards her. 

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” he asked teasingly. She reached towards him, taking the clothes. Y/N nodded dramatically as she switched her gaze towards the clothes. “Oh, so I’m not being a caring boyfriend?” he offered. She shook her head slowly as she stood up. Jack took a hold of her waist, helping her keep her balance. “Let me help you,” he whispered.

“Okay,” she mumbled, nodding along slightly as she allowed him to help her get changed into something more comfy. 

After a few seconds, she was in a new outfit, less restricting than her clubbing outfit. Jack glided his hand down her back as he tossed her clothes towards the corner of his room. “How are you feeling, baby?” Jack asked as he guided her towards the bed again. He took the comforter and tossed it lower slightly.

“I wish you were at the club with me tonight,” she mumbled as she sat down onto the bed. Y/N looked up towards Jack, her eyes softening. 

“Yeah?” he asked softly as he took a hold of her legs, helping her lay down completely. 

“The music was so good,” she mumbled as Jack took the ends of the comforter and covered it over her frame. Y/N took a deep breath as she met Jack’s gaze. “We would’ve danced so much,” she slurred as she smashed her face deeper into the pillow. Jack chuckled as he glided his hand along her side. 

“Next time honey,” he let out as he pressed his lips to her forehead. She smiled as her eyes shut delicately. Jack chuckled as he stood up and walked towards the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom. 

He flipped the light on as he walked towards the bathroom counter that had a package of her makeup remover wipes. He pulled one out and began to walk back towards the bed. 

A soft smile formed to his lips as he watched her roll onto her back. “I love you,” she slurred out, keeping her eyes shut. 

“I love you more, beautiful,” he whispered as he walked towards the bed, sitting down beside her. Slowly, he began to wipe the makeup from her face. He knew that she would feel much better in the morning. 

“You take such good care of me,” she mumbled as a soft smile formed to her lips.

“Get some sleep, baby,” he whispered as he leaned down and delicately pressed his lips against her forward.

[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

[muzaktomyears]

[John] compulsively scanned the FM dial, never listening to a complete song unless it was something he really liked – for instance, the Rolling Stones’ “Miss You”. When this song came on a local rock station, John shouted with delight and cranked up the volume, commenting that Mick Jagger at least got this one great song out of his divorce from Bianca. Twice we caught snatches of Beatles songs, but John showed no interest. He told me that most Beatles songs, particularly the early ones – which he dismissed as “formula songs” – bored him. He said that usually when he heard a Beatles song he would be reminded of the recording session. His memory would dredge up details such as what he had eaten that day, what drug he had been taking, conflicts that arose at the time – mostly unpleasant memories. We were driving past a vast shopping mall, near Walt Whitman’s birthplace, when a familiar voice boomed over the four speakers. “Fuck a pig!” John shouted. “It’s Paul!” Indeed, it was Paul McCartney’s new hit single, “Coming Up”, a catchy tune built around a repetitive staccato riff. John frowned, turned up the volume, and began to nod to the beat. “Not bad,” he said at the end of the song, sounding surprised and even somewhat disappointed. When the announcer mentioned that Paul played all the instruments himself, John mumbled something to the effect that it made perfect sense because Paul had always wanted to be a one-man band. John turned down the volume again and fell silent for a while. Then he asked me to get him a copy of Paul’s new album and to set up a stereo system in his bedroom. (…) The next day at breakfast, John hummed the melody of Paul’s new single, which he said he could not get out of his head. “It’s driving me crackers!” he exclaimed cheerfully. He said the album was uneven, but he acknowledged that it was an unusually adventurous effort by Paul, and far superior to his previous release, Back to the Egg, which John had dismissed as “garbage”. He gave Paul credit for trying his hand at something new. I realized that after years of lying dormant, John’s competitive nature had been aroused again. As long as Paul kept churning out mediocre “product”, John felt justified in keeping his own muse on a shelf. But if Paul was writing decent music, then John felt compelled to take up Paul’s challenge. It was a conditioned reflex, nurtured during years of friendly (and later fierce) rivalry in the Beatles. John told me that Paul was the only musician who could scare him into writing great songs, and vice versa. That was the nature of John and Paul’s relationship: creative sibling rivalry.

John Lennon: Living on Borrowed Time, Frederic Seaman (1991)

[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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[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

i’m on my knees BEGGING to hear more abt darry singing his brothers to sleep😭🫶🏻

WAGH HELLO LOVE!! I am nothin if not the people's princess so I've actually made a Playlist of all the songs I think Darry sings to his brothers BUT head canon list follow bc I think about this boy every wakin hour EEE TY FOR THE ASK LOVE

- whenever he sings it is 8/10 a beatles song. Soda was never as adamantly anti beatle as the rest of the gang (minus dally but that's another post) but Pony MOANS about it. he's half asleep goin someone change the CHANNEL :( Darry just tells him to hush n that the singer picks the music

- when Soda n Pony are sick he'll press their head down to his chest n hum. it's a habit he picked up from his mama n he knows it grounds both of them. plus it's a comfort for him as well. when someone leans against ur chest when u sing u can feel it better in ur own body too.

- he's also just an absent singer. when he's doin busy work or drivin he'll absently start singin or whistlin'. he does it when he's cookin' sometimes but he has to be REAL outta it 'cause if Two's around he'll make a big show of turnin' off the tube or the player 'n shushin' everyone 'n goin' "EVERYONE HUSH DARRY FM IS ON"

- when he's in a particularly good mood he'll sing Two of Us by the beatles n change it to the three of us, tappin the beat absently against Soda n Pony's arms

- Soda n Pony are both heartbeat listeners. Soda not as much as when he was younger but Pony still crawls into bed with Darry after a nightmare n will panic if he can't find Darry's heartbeat in his sleep. Darry has woken up numerous times to Pony frantically pressin' an ear to his chest. He always smooths his hair off his sweaty forehead, wraps the kid up, n sings softly to him. it has the same affect. the low baritones of Darrys voice vibratin against Pony's cheek n soothin him back to sleep

- One night Soda's sick. like real sick. the kind that has Darry runnin his hands up n down his neck til he practically gives himself rug burn. sodas vomitin n hot n cold. shakin n shiverin n so miserable he can't even pretend he's alright. he's half delirious n pressed against Darry, burnin to the touch, n he just manages to croak out can you sing it dar? n darry knows exactly what he means. an old Frank Sinatra song their ma used to sing them to sleep with. n his throat is dry n he's tracin absent, scared circles along sodas collar bone n clutchin him tight but he opens his mouth n presses Soda to his chest n sings.

- He sings Beautiful Boy to Pony n changes Daddy to brother (the monsters gone/ he's on the run/ n ur brothers here)

- I know it doesn't line up timeline wise but I'm ignorin it temporarily cause Darry would sing little willow by Paul McCartney to Pony all the goddamn time. He's holdin him, Pony's body still small in childhood n Darry's acutely aware it won't last. That his kid brothers growin up. n he's got him tucked up in his lap, crashed in the armchair cause he swore he wasn't tired but then Darry's rockin him a lil n he should protest cause he ain't a kid no more but then Darry starts in on bend little willow, winds gonna blow you, hard n cold tonight n his eyes are just so heavy. n maybe he doesn't mind lettin his older brother hold him. Just tonight.

[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.”

[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.

[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

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-His Brother Interrupts Their Vacation

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: Not requested but have had this idea for a while and since the 4 nations tournament has concluded (Mackinnon mvp hell yeah) anyways enjoy :) Summary: Quinn crashes Luke's romantic getaway to the lakehouse Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 4,502 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

She sat in the passenger seat staring outside the window, seeing it snow slightly on the ground. There was soft country music playing in the car, Luke was humming along to the song as he was running his hand along her thigh in a slow teasing manner.

“You know, Lu, most NHL players travel somewhere tropical during breaks like this,” she offered as she rested her hand on top of his hand. He chuckled while shaking his head. 

“You only had four days, so my love, we got an easy getaway to the lake house–in the snow,” he explained while squeezing her thigh for a second. “After you graduate, we can take a trip to any island you want,” he explained, glancing towards her. Their eyes connected for a second as she smiled softly.

“I’m just messing with you,” she said as she interlocked their fingers, “I’m happy to get away from our life for a few days,” she explained. Luke raised their interlocked hands towards his face, he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her hand. 

“It’ll be fun, we have the hottub and the fireplace and all the cuddling in the world,” he offered softly. He stopped at a stop sign and turned right down the road to lead towards the lake house.

“It’s snowing outside and you want to go in the hottub?” she asked while giggling. He tossed his head back.

“You brought your swimsuit, didn’t you?” he asked while laughing. She rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s like the best way to be in a hottub,” he explained as he looked towards her for a moment. 

They sat quietly for a few seconds as he continued to drive cautiously down the street in the snow. It wasn’t heavy but it was still enough for him to be extra careful while driving. 

“How’s Jack settling in?” she asked.

“He said it’s been fun so far. He wishes Quinn was there but what can you do,” he explained while shaking his head slightly. 

“Have you spoken to him?” 

“Texted a little, he’s been in a mood with everything he’s dealing with,” he explained, “I didn’t want to make it worse,”

Her lips fell into a small pout, “Like you could ever make anything worse,” she offered quietly. He smiled softly as he turned into the driveway of the house. Swiftly, putting the rental car into park. Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted his body towards her.

“I’ll give him a call later today,” he mumbled as he tilted his head against the headrest. She smiled towards him as she unbuckled her own seatbelt and reached towards him. Y/N rested her hand against his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the apple of his cheek.

“Good,” she mumbled as she leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his for a few seconds. 

“Ready?” he asked quietly. She nodded before pecking his lips one more time before she reached towards the passenger door. Luke grinned as he followed in pursuit. He jogged towards the backseat and pulled out the one shared suitcase they had brought. They were only planning on going into town once or twice while they were here. 

Luke’s plans didn’t really include clothes but she forced him to birng enough for the days that they were at the lake house. 

“Here, baby,” Luke let out as he held up the keys in his hand. She nodded as he tossed the keys towards her. She caught it effortlessly as she cautiously walked towards the front door towards the lakehouse. Luke took the suitcase from the backseat and kept it in the air as he slammed the door shut. He kept his car keys in his hand as he locked the car and followed after her. 

She was already inside, it was so cold outside she didn’t want to stay outside any longer than she had to. Luke dropped the suitcase to the ground for only a second as he pushed open the door. He stepped inside, letting out a sudden huff of air as he rested the suitcase near the door.

“Lukey?” she called out. He hummed as a reply while he twisted the lock on the door. “Where’s the bathroom again? I want to shower the airport smell off of my body,” she mumbled as she stepped out of the kitchen area. 

Luke bit his bottom lip as he fought off a grin. He kicked his shoes off as he began to walk towards her. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he said as he held out his hand towards her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she rested her hand into his. He led the charge as a giggle fell from her lips.

“You’ll show me?” she asked teasingly. He spun around as he began to walk backwards, he nodded slowly. She smirked as she watched him awkwardly bump into the closed door of the bathroom. He gasped as a chuckle fell from his lips. 

Quickly, he pushed the door open. Luke pulled her inside as she giggled again. He kicked the door shut behind them. Reaching towards her waist, he pressed her body against the countertop. Her hands rested on the base of his neck before he leaned towards her desperately kissing her lips. 

She hummed against his lips as he toyed with the ends of her hoodie covering her frame. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth. He kept the pace slow for a while, his hands running along her sides, slowly. 

Y/N took a hold of his hoodie, tugging it high off of his frame. He stepped back, taking the ends of his hoodie. Quickly, he pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. She followed in pursuit and took a hold of her own hoodie and tossed it to the floor. 

A smirk formed to his lips before he leaned towards her again. Luke rested his hands on either side of the countertop as he pressed his lips against hers urgently. Delicately, she ran her hands down his chest. Letting her hands glide along each curve of his muscles. 

He began to toy with her waistband of her sweatpants. Slowly, he began to tug them off of her frame. She sped up the process, kicking the sweats away from her frame. He smirked as his hands glided along the exposed skin of her hips.

“Come on, baby,” he muttered as he pulled her towards the shower. They both quickly pulled off the rest of their clothes, giggles falling from each of their lips. He turned on the shower quickly, it was almost instant that the hot water began to pour out. He guided her into the shower, their lips connecting instantly.

After a few seconds, she tilted her head back, letting the water hit her face. Luke instantly pressed his lips against the center of her neck. Her hands glided along his upper back as he pressed her back against the wall of the shower. A gasp left her lips as the cold wall sent a shock to her frame. He smirked as he trailed his lips up her neck onto her jawline and before he kissed her lips urgently. 

~~~

Luke sat in the center of the couch, Y/N’s legs were draped over his lap. Absent-mindedly, he was caressing the skin of her thighs. She was holding a pillow tightly to her chest as she was starting to doze in and out of sleep. Her eyes slowly flickered open as she shifted her gaze towards the TV.

“Baby, let’s head to bed,” Luke mumbled as he delicately tapped his hand against the tops of her thighs.

“No, no, ‘s okay,” she muttered as she waved her hand slightly towards Luke. He tilted his head to the side, watching her eyes flutter close again. He chuckled softly as he slowly pulled her legs off of his body.”What are you doing, love?” she muttered, her eyes still shut. 

“We are going to bed,” he explained as he reached down and took a hold of the pillow resting on her chest. She frowned while crossing her arms over her chest. He rested his hand onto the arm of the couch as he leaned down. He took a hold of her chin, tilting her head up. “My bed is so much more comfortable,” he mumbled.

“But I’m comfortable here,” she mumbled, a pout on her lips. Luke leaned down and pressed his against hers for a few seconds. 

“My bed is better and you know it,” he mumbled against her lips. Slowly, her lips curled up into a small smile. She raised her hand up and ran her thumb across his cheek. He kissed her softly, “Come on baby,” he leaned back slowly. She let out a deep breath, reluctantly following in pursuit. 

“Fine,” she let out as she began walking down the hallway that led towards his bedroom down the hall. He looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She let out a soft chuckle as they stumbled further down the hallway.

Delicately, he pressed his lips against her cheek as they rounded the corner into his bedroom. She slipped away from his grasp and instantly climbed onto the mattress, curling up under the comforter.

He laughed as he watched her practically disappear beneath the blanket. He shut the door and out of habit twisted the lock. Practically leaping over her body and onto the other side of the bed. He laid on top of comfort, tilting his head to the side to see her hair being the only thing sticking out from under the blanket. 

He took a hold of the comforter and pulled it away from her face. “Hey,” he let out softly. She let out a breathy laugh as she watched him slowly climb under the comforter. She pressed her lips together as she watched him shuffle awkwardly. 

“You were right,” she mumbled, “This is so much better.” 

He grinned as he looped his arm around her waist. He began to run his hand along her back as he purposely bumped his nose against hers. “Did you just admit that I was right?” he whispered teasingly. 

“Savor it, it won’t happen again,” she whispered as she glided her manicured finger along his jawline. He chuckled before he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. She pursed her lips forward as she fought off a grin. 

“I’m gonna savor this,” he muttered before he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. She giggled into the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging the curls. He pulled away slowly, watching her lips curl upward slightly. 

“You’re so cheesy,” she mumbled. 

“And that’s why you love me,” he muttered teasingly as he bit his bottom lip with a grin forming to his lips. 

“I guess so,”

“You guess so?” he asked teasingly as he took a hold of her thigh and pulled her as close as she could lay on top of him. She giggled as she rested her head onto his chest. Their legs quickly entangled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

“I love you, Lukey,” she mumbled as she slowly began to trail her finger tip along his chest. 

~~~

She was sitting on the couch, her computer sitting in her lap as she was working on her essay that was due in a week and a half. It needed to be at least ten pages and she was on page three. She promised Luke that she would take a break and not work on it. But Luke was out getting them breakfast, so she decided that she would work on it for a while.

There was soft music playing through one of the speakers resting on the kitchen counter, keeping her mind active. She wasn’t paying attention when the front door was pushed open, she was too focused on the music and her laptop. 

“Baby!” Luke sing-songed loudly as he practically skipped into the house. She jolted slightly, slamming her computer shut and placing it onto the coffee table. She spun her head around, watching Luke happily walk towards the kitchen. “You better not be working on that essay,” he called out.

She chuckled as she stood up from the couch, following after him. “I wasn’t,” she said while she entered the kitchen. She watched him pull out the takeout containers. 

“So if I open your laptop it won’t show your essay you promised to take a break from?” he asked as he tipped the takeout bag upside down, letting the plastic utensils and syrup cups fall out. 

She leaned down and rested her arms onto the counter, she scanned his frame. He slid the takeout container towards her as he smirked towards her. “I barely wrote a paragraph,” she mumbled. He hummed dramatically as a reply as he flipped open his container. His eyes lit up instantly at the sight of his meal. 

“Supposed to be taking a break, remember?” he offered as he began to add butter to his dramatic stack of pancakes. 

She chuckled softly as she walked around the kitchen island. Resting her hand onto his arm, she leaned towards him. Y/N delicately pressed her lips to his cheek. “I know, I know,” she mumbled against his cheek.

Looking down towards her, he smiled softly towards her. He pressed his hand against her lower back for a second. He leaned towards her pressing his lips against hers softly. He pecked her lips a few more times before she slipped away from him. She rounded the kitchen island again towards her own food. 

“Have you spoken to Jack?” she asked after she began to cut into her own pancakes. Luke nodded with a mouthful of food. 

“Called him on my drive back. He’s having a blast,” he explained after he swallowed his food.

“I didn’t know Jack knew what that was like,” she offered teasingly. Luke tossed his head back laughing. 

After another thirty minutes, they both finished their food and cleaned up the kitchen swiftly. She was laying on her back on the couch, staring towards the TV screen. Luke was sprailed out on top of her. His head rested on her chest as he glided his hands up and down her frame in the process. 

Her fingers ran through his curls, teasingly tugging the pieces every so often. His hand was gliding along her skin, sneaking it up her shirt. “Do you wanna try the hot tub tonight?” he asked softly as his thumb continuously grazed her skin. 

Her lips curled upward and before she could answer there was a loud knock against the door. Luke jolted up, hovering over her frame. “Did you order something?” he asked. She shook her head as stared towards the front door. There was another loud knock. 

Luke climbed off of the couch, glancing towards the door before looking back towards the couch. “Stay here,” he muttered as he walked toward the door. She sat up slightly, leaning back on her elbows. 

Luke took a deep breath as he walked up towards the door. He glanced behind him, looking towards Y/N for a second. Delicately, he pressed his hand against the door and looked into the peephole. “Oh for fuck sake,” he let out as he took a hold of the door handle. He pulled the door open.

“Hey Lukey!” Quinn said nonchalantly as he stepped into the house, rolling a suitcase behind him. “Y/N,” Quinn expressed, glancing towards her on the couch.

Luke pressed his lips together as he kept the door open, watching Quinn step into the house. Y/N instantly sat up, her entire body felt like it was on fire. Suddenly feeling very exposed. Despite her frame being completely covered.

“Wh–what are you doing here?” Luke asked as he shut the door. Quinn stood happily in the center of the living room. He had a wide teasing grin on his lips. Quinn looked towards Y/N, nodding towards her before meeting Luke’s gaze.

“I heard you two were having a little getaway together and I am not ready to be an uncle so I decided to join you two!” he offered teasingly. 

Luke and Y/N shared awkward glances. 

“I’m just kidding, I got off the plane and called Dad and told him what I was doing and he then told me that you two were already here. So I didn’t mean to crash but since I was already in town. Here I am!” he explained, the grin still on his lips. “But I’m not kidding about the uncle thing,” he expressed as he pointed his finger towards Luke and then towards Y/N.

“What’s wrong with your place in Vancouver?” Luke asked as he rested his hands onto his hips. 

“If they say I’m healthy I may get to play in the tournament so I thought I would stay here while they decide that,” Quinn explained. He nodded towards them as he started walking down the hallway towards his room. “Pretend I’m not here!” he called out from the hallway. 

Quickly, she climbed off of the couch and darted towards Luke. “It’ll be fine–fun even! How often do you see Quinn? Like never,” she offered. Luke nodded slowly as he stared completely passed Y/N’s head. “Luke?” she mumbled. He didn’t respond, disassociating by staring past her head.

She took a deep breath as she smacked her hand against his chest, “Plans have changed but you never see him, now is your chance,” she explained. He forced his gaze to meet her eye. He nodded again.

“You’re right,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, “There’s leftovers from the breakfast place we love in the fridge if you want it!” he yelled out towards Quinn. 

“Oh hell yeah!” he called back. 

Instantly, Luke wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned down and rested his forehead onto her shoulder. She rested her hand onto the base of his neck, running her hand along his neck.

“So much for a romantic getaway,” he mumbled before he tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips against her neck. 

“Such a drama queen,” she expressed teasingly. He smirked as he pressed his lips against the side of her neck again. Swiftly, he tightened his grip along her waist. He lifted her up in the air. She giggled while she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Slowly, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He trailed his lips from her neck towards her jawline, peppering her jawline. 

“If you guys are gonna do that, can you keep it in Lukey's bedroom please?” Quinn said as he walked out of the hallway. He walked past them towards the kitchen.

She tilted her head back, looking down towards Luke. He clenched his jaw as his eyes widened slightly. “You’ll be fine,” she mumbled teasingly before she leaned towards him, pecking his lips for a second. Y/N tapped her hands against his shoulder, “Go catch up,”

Slowly, she glided down his frame, her hands ran along his chest. He tilted his head back, biting his bottom lip. “I’m gonna go shower,” she let out, raising her eyebrows towards him.

Luke tilted his head back, a pout fell on his lips. He reached towards her, begging for her to drag him along. She ignored his grabby hands as she continued to walk down the hallway towards the bathroom. Luke let out a sigh as he walked into the kitchen. Quinn was staring towards the microwave watching the take out container spin inside.

“I’m happy to see you, I promise man, but you kind of ruined all of my plans,” Luke explained as he stepped into the kitchen. Quinn spun his head around, a laugh leaving his lips in the process.

“Yeah and what were those plans then?” Quinn said teasingly. Luke tilted his head from side to side for a few seconds. His cheeks flushed red while he pursed his lips forward.

“She only had a few days she could take off so this was our only option,” Luke explained while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why didn’t you guys do a stay-cation at her apartment?” Quinn asked as the microwave beeped. He spun around and pulled out the container. 

Luke’s posture straightened as he pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment. He never intended to keep it a secret from Quinn for this long. It was only supposed to last until his rookie season was done and then until Quinn was done with playoffs. Luke tilted his head back and forth as he took a deep breath.

“Her apartment is also my apartment,” he explained while awkwardly shifting his gaze towards the floor. Quinn dropped the takeout container onto the counter. He spun around, his mouth fell open.

“Since when?” Quinn asked with an awkward laugh leaving his lips.

“Oh man, it’s–it’s been about–uhm–”

“Spit it out, Lukey,” Quinn said while crossing his arms over his chest. Quinn fought off a grin on his lips while watching Luke shift awwkardly in front of him.

“Since March last year,” he let out while nodding. 

“Do Mom and Dad know?” he asked. Luke nodded. “Oh, so you just forgot to tell me,”

“You didn’t like the idea of me having a girlfriend in my rookie season. So I didn’t know how you would react. I didn’t mean to never tell you. It was just never brought up before,” he explained while avoiding Quinn’s eye.

“I mean you love her, right?” Quinn asked. 

“More than anything,” Luke let out genuinely. 

“I’ll pretend to not be offended,” Quinn offered teasingly. He leaped towards Luke, pulling him down in a headlock. “Look at you, all in love and shit,” Quinn continued while laughing. Luke nearly fell over while laughing. 

“Oh shut up,” Luke let out while pulling away from Quinn. Quinn spun around and took a hold of his take out container. He walked towards a different counter and rested the container on it. “So, you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Nah, I should’ve known. You two are legit attached at the hip. Where is she anyway?” he asked as he shoved a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

~~~

It was pitch black out as the three of them were in the hot tub. The TV was set up beside them playing the USA vs. Finland game and it was well into the third period. They spent most of the second and third period in the steaming water.

Quinn’s gaze was constantly on his phone, he was texting the entire game. He would submerge most of his body under the water, letting the heat help heal his body; at least think it would help. He pulled his phone towards his ear, talking quietly into the phone.

Luke and Y/N were snuggled beside one another. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. His other hand was slowly gliding along the inside of her thigh.

He leaned towards her, pressing his lips against her cheek. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed as she rested her head onto his shoulder. He tilted his head against hers.

“You’re right, this is perfect hot tub weather,” she whispered. He chuckled softly, as he looked towards the TV. “I’m just scared to get out,”

“It’ll suck for like thirty seconds but you’ll feel so good later,” he explained as he glided his fingertips down her arm. 

She lifted her head up, meeting his gaze, “Oh really?” she asked barely above a whisper. Luke nodded dramatically as a smile formed on his lips. He raised his hand up as he took a hold of her chin. He leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers delicately.

“Guys really?” Quinn said with a chuckle. He pulled the phone away from his ear for a second. 

Luke pulled back, keeping his hand on her chin. He clenched his jaw as he glided his thumb along her bottom lip. “Do you wanna get out soon?” he asked still in a hushed tone.

“Let’s finish the game and then go,” she mumbled. 

“They’re up by three goals,” he offered, while raising his eyebrows and fighting off a smirk on his lips. She smiled softly as she tilted her head to the side. “Fine,” he muttered before he pecked her lips.

“Alright, I’ll call you later,” Quinn expressed before he set the phone back down. Quinn had a small smile on his lips as he kept his gaze towards the water. Luke and Y/N stared towards Quinn expectantly. After several seconds, he lifted his head up to look towards their direction. Quinn’s eyes widened as his cheeks flushed red. “What?” 

“Who was that?” Luke asked teasingly as he absentmindedly drew shapes along her shoulder.

Quinn pursed his lips forward and shook his head. “No one,” he let out.

“You’re blushing,” Y/N let out teasingly. He splashed some water towards them as a grin formed on his lips. “What’s her name?” she continued.

Quinn tilted his head back, “I’m getting out now,” he let out as he started climbing out of the hot tub. “You two enjoy yourselves,” he said as he fought off a wide grin. Y/N tossed her head back and laughed as she leaned her head against Luke’s shoulder. 

“I will not be answering any questions,” he expressed as he wrapped a towel around himself. His teeth shattered as he jogged towards the door to the house. “Don’t have sex in my hot tub!” he called out before he snuck inside.

Luke tightened his grip around Y/N while laughing. “Well if I had known that would’ve scared him off, I would’ve said something sooner,” he offered teasingly. She rolled her eyes playfully. 

Luke took a hold of her thigh and pulled her onto his lap. She helped him in the process as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. “I didn’t mean to scare him off,” she mumbled. 

“His fault for answering the call and blushing like an idiot,” he offered while tilting his head to the side. She squinted her eyes slightly as she pursed her lips forward. 

“You blush like an idiot all of the time,” she offered teasingly as she dragged her thumbs along the sides of his neck. He smiled widely as she leaned forward resting her forehead onto his shoulder. 

“I do not,” he let out while laughing.

Quinn stood near the window watching his youngest brother smile and grin like an idiot. Quinn has never seen his little brother smile like that. Not even when he was a little kid. This was the first time he’s ever seen him look so happy. He began to walk away towards the hallway towards his bedroom.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Harbinger Diluc - Match 10 -  Convocation

Synopsis: One day, the Harbinger meets someone who ignites something different in him - and all he knows is to keep what he wants close, that’s all that matters

Harbinger!Diluc X FM Reader | Anthology

Match 1 - Introductions |  Match 2 - New Normal |  Match 3 - Trust  |  Match 4 - Knowledge | Match 5 - Realizations | Match 6 - Commitment | Match 7 - Awakening | Match 8 - History | Match 9 - Snezhnaya

Warnings (specific to each chapter) -> Fatui Harbingers are def OOC because I don't know them all, I did not do research, and I'm tired -> slight spice described (flashback)

(also not my best chapter. I know that. And I'm sorry.)

   🔥🔥🔥

Diluc drove his knuckle into his temple. The headache once a tickle was now an unrelenting pressure that spread across his eyes. He hadn't slept or eaten, and the untouched water before him had long evaporated due to the steady stream of irritating heat he couldn't abate.

He hated these.

Gatherings of the high and mighty on the high and mighty. Hated the 'duty' they all hid behind. It was all a game; each and every one. And he didn't want to play anymore.

"The impact of a lost foothold in Sumeru will have its effects on our supplies," the Captain said. "It may strain our benefactors until we can acquire suitable arrangements."

The Regrator flipped through his stack of neatly arranged papers, sliding one out with ease to evaluate it. "The Mondstadt contracts will cover the losses and we've heard word from Liyue of a fresh backer. I will inquire on their progress."

"That does not solve the ongoing nuisance," the Doctor said under his breath. "We lost valuable research in Sumeru and without the Akademiya vital advancements will be slow to gather."

"That may be true, but your gathering the Gnosis won't threaten our Lady's ultimate plan," the Captain interjected, his tone even as it always was. "Though, Il Dottore, note it is not lost on this body that the extracurricular you engaged in would."

A chill filled the room and the Doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The Captain continued, unaffected, "The west will be our next mark. I have prepared plans to venture there and my men are standing by."

The Jester, quiet and stoic beside his chair, acknowledged the First before moving on. "Arlecchino, reports on Fontaine?" The Fourth twisted, disinterest clinging to her expression as she spoke.

Diluc pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed. The ache made his eyes twitch so he closed them to rid himself of another annoyance but the darkness did little to satiate the itch he'd been trying for the last two hours to avoid scratching.

Your face. Beautifully parted lips panting, breathing out his name. Desperate hands clenching the sheets, pulling at your hair, his, pawing his chest and shoulders. Delicious drags of your nails across his back. The feeling of you in his palms. Over and over. Your gasp. Your laugh. Your scent and essence. The arch of your back he commands with nothing more than a simple caress. A touch, a drag of his fingers across your skin. Insatiable presence --

"Noctua."

Diluc blinked, inhaled, and adjusted, grateful for the massive table as he tugged on his pants and sat up straighter. His body was stiff, in more ways than one. "Sir."

"Report." the Jester commanded, irritation lingering in the corner of his eye. The room weighed heavy, all eyes looking his way; Diluc clenched his jaw.

"Perhaps we should have waited another day. Noctua has only recently returned from active deployment. He has had little rest," Pulcinella said and gestured to Diluc before returning his hand to his cane. The interjection wasn't unwelcome, nor surprising. Pulcinella was like a father to him. more than his own ever was. And they both knew it.

"We ensured there was time for ample rest. It is not on us if he chooses to use that time elsewhere," Regrator hummed, his lips curling into a knowing, dark smile.

"Noctua, are you unfit to report?" the Captain asked before another word could be shared around the oblong table. Diluc was glad for it, otherwise the chains of his straining resolve would have snapped and coiled around the neck of the Ninth.

Diluc rolled his shoulders and sat straighter. "My brigade was able to locate the artifact without much issue -"

"Yet you were unsuccessful in returning it untouched," the Doctor spat, cutting him off. Though Diluc could only see his mouth, the deep frown relayed his irritation.

"That is accurate," Diluc continued. "I encountered far more difficulties retrieving the artifact than we organized for. The domain was set to impede all progress and though I managed to push into the chamber, several of my patrols were lost in the process."

"We've read the report. What I fail to grasp is how you could let it be soiled!" the Doctor seethed, his hand slamming against the table and rousing the Damselette. The Knave placed her hand on the woman's head and glowered at the Second, specks of crackling red flickering to life before fading into the shadows.

"Multiple Heralds were guarding the -"

"It is not on us if you were outmatched. I specifically instructed the artifact remain untouched," the Doctor continued. "Was that not made clear?"

"It was." Regrator asserted with a soft nod. "Rest assured, compensation for this error has been made. Noctua and Tartaglia acquired the body in which the artifact now rests. You will have your time, Dottore."

Diluc tensed, his gaze meeting Tartaglia's in a flash. He knew they'd find out; spies were everywhere. He just hoped to keep it, you, under the radar for as long as possible. Diluc gripped the arm of his chair and the wood strained at the pressure.

"Then it will be provided to me immediately," the Doctor demanded.

Diluc's expression darkened. "No."

"Experimentation must begin --"

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

Diluc rose from his seat and the Doctor straightened, a horrific smile stretching his thin lips to the point of pain. A ball of contained fire ignited in Diluc's palm, rage, and fury coiling, threatening to explode. Of all the Harbingers, it was the Doctor Diluc loathed the most. If it weren't for their vow, he would have incinerated him until only the wind could make him move.

Tartaglia leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. A goading grin unimpeded as he stretched his legs to watch the fight unfold. Pulcinella shook his head but when the Captain stood, slow and calm, the fire in Diluc's palm snuffed out. "Sit, Noctua."

Violence tore through Diluc's chest but he did as instructed even if the thoughts of tearing the Doctor limb from limb didn't settle when he did.

"Il Dottore, how familiar is your knowledge on releasing a bound artifact?" the Captain asked, still standing.

The Doctor eased and waved his hand dismissively before answering. "Minimal. To conduct a thorough analysis, I must have the specimen. And the longer it is kept from me, the more damage could be done to the power transposed to them."

The Captain sighed and looked to Diluc who answered the question he knew was coming with a quick, "No."

"Noctua, it was your mission to gather the -"

"And I did as commanded."

"Then you will carry out the remainder of your task and provide -"

"He cannot have her!"

The chamber fell into a heavy silence, the rhythmic ticking of the Marionette's puppet the only life left in the room. Diluc clenched his jaw and cursed at himself. His fingers curled against the cold table, and his shoulders strained, trembled. Diluc did his best to avoid the pained eyes of Pulcinella; empathy did little for him now.

He should have never let you come. His weakness would be your downfall.

"That magic was not meant for her," the Doctor said.

"You will find another way," Diluc told him. "She has already wielded its power. She may very well tame it."

The Doctor sighed. "I do not have the capacity nor energy to explain to this room the reason why we sought after the artifact but Its owner has already been identified. And they are not known for their patience."

"If I must, I will speak to the Tsaritsa myself."

The Doctor let out an amused puff of air. The Regrator shook his head while the other Harbingers sat silently. "If you are that concerned about your plaything, I will design another. Multiple if you wish. I'll be extra certain they meet all your desired expectations."

"I will warn you once, Dottore, touch her and there will be no end to the suffering I will inflict." Without warning Diluc's body shifted into his Delusion. Parts of him now dawned in hardened black metal, his face shielded by a mask with an obsidian shimmer. His sword crackled at his side. Arcs of flame licking out and skittering across the table. The Regrator gasped and patted a sheet of paper ignited by a bouncing spark.

A gust of heavy wind knocked Diluc back, destabilizing him and shutting off his delusion like pinched candlight. He winced at the sudden shift but didn't break eye contact with the Doctor whose feathering jaw became washed in waves of pink from the twirling vial in his fingers.

"Noctua, you will provide the woman to the Doctor -"

"I will not."

Tension filled the meeting hall. Tartaglia's leg bounced, The Knave's gaze fixed on the Harbinger sitting menacingly beside her while Pulcinella sent wave after wave of 'stand-downs' Diluc's way but he didn't. Wouldn't.

Take his life. End it here. But they would never have yours.

"Find another way," Diluc said, demanded.

"One cannot magically appear you bumbling bafoon. She will die without extraction!"

"One warning," Diluc reminded him, his gaze fixed, unwavering.

The Captain, still standing, moved to the Director's side. Their heavy whispers were hard to hear over the pounding blood in Diluc's ears. When they were done, the Captain turned to the group chin raised. "We are at an impasse" -- he held his hand toward the Doctor, silencing him -- "the artifact's power is contained for now. Il Dottore, you will investigate methods of removing the power on your own while we identify our next move."

The Doctor's knuckles turned white and the vial in his grip trembled. "That is unsatisfactory --"

"Il Dottore." The Jester glanced his way and he twitched, leaned back in his chair, defeated. Furious. "You are all dismissed."

The Harbingers stalled, unsure until the Knave slid from the table and roused the the Damselette from her sleep. Diluc turned on his heels and made for the door only to stop midstride.

"Noctua, you will stay."

Clenching his jaw, Diluc stepped to the side while the other Harbingers made for the door. It took everything he had not to snag the Doctor's neck as he sauntered past, but his restraint failed at the side of the ginger.

Tartaglia paused and peered at his wrist before glancing over his shoulder. When he met Diluc's eyes, his head tilted in pity. Tartaglia slipped free of Diluc's fingers and faced the open door. "I'll check on her," he whispered before disappearing down the hall and leaving Diluc alone in the conference room with The Captain and the Jester.

🔥🔥🔥

You turned to your side, hand sliding across the silken sheets only to startle awake when warmth met cold. You blinked and adjusted to the darkness the curtains created. A gentle band of light cut through the opening on the left and you crawled toward it to see the sunlit room empty and void of Diluc.

Carefully, you slipped from the sheets, drawing the softest one around your body as you searched for your discarded clothes. It didn't take you long to find them, but you ran into a problem when the shirt you slid back into refused to clasp. It seemed in the heat of shared desire, neither of you were careful about fabric and threads.

Slipping around the bed, you opened the armoirs and found a plethora of gowns, shirts, clothes, and adornments you'd never afford on your own. Some you recognized from the ship; the blouses and fittings Diluc had prepared for you at the docks but the others were unfamiliar.

You ran your hand across the assortment and wondered when Diluc managed to find the time.

---

You were alone when you exited the washroom, dressed and clean. It had been far too long since you had a proper bath. The small tub on the ship was cramped and the constant jostling made it impossible to keep the water contained. So you took your time, relishing the warm, unsloshed water and clean skin.

The clock above the fireplace told you it was well into midday but you would have figured that considering the painful grumble your stomach wouldn't cease. Throwing your wet hair into a bun, you scanned the room hoping to find something to eat when an energetic knock at the door made you jump.

You froze, hesitated. It came again but this time with a voice. "Hey, Comrade, you gonna let me in?" Easing your shoulders, you made for the door, peeked through the small opening, and sighed at the familiar face looking down at you. "Hungry?"

Tartaglia slipped into the room while you snagged the plate he was holding. The aroma filled your nose and made your mouth water but the flavors were what weakened your knees. Sliding into the seat next to the desk, you satiated your appetite while Tartaglia wandered around the room before leaning against the back of the couch, arms crossed and legs stretched.

"Your room is nicer than mine," he huffed.

"I promise I didn't ask for it," you said through bites of food. "Wanna trade?"

"I'll survive. I guess." He ran his hands through his hair and glanced at the door.

"Where's Diluc?" you asked.

"Held up."

You stopped eating. "What's wrong?"

Tartaglia scratched behind his ear and shifted on the back of the couch. He wouldn't meet your eyes. His tone held hints of playfulness peppered with unease. "How'd you sleep? Or did."

"I slept fine. What's going on. Is Diluc in trouble?" You twisted in the chair to face him, food long forgotten.

"It's fine. I'm sure they're trying to figure out what to do with you."

"What's that mean?"

"Well if you haven't forgotten, that power, it wasn't meant for you," he said and pointed to your arm. "And there's people here who really, really want it back."

"They can have it."

"Not that simple I'm afraid," he mumbled. "How much do you know of the other Harbingers?"

"Enough. Why?"

"I'm only looking out for -- ah, listen, we Harbingers aren't really known for our ... agreeableness. So just keep your guard up, alright?"

You sat up straight, eyes narrowing on the 11th. "I'm more capable than you might think. It never crossed my mind to trust any of you; not when it's readily known the things you've done to Teyvatt."

"And yet you are in bed with one of us."

Tartaglia's words cut deep and made the food in your stomach spoil. He was right. You loved a Harbinger, a man who had rendered villages to their knees, a man who captured you like a mouse in a snare. Second-guessing guilt tore at the threads of your heart but a plume snuffed it out.

Trust was earned.

And Diluc had attained it in spades.

"I guess that makes me a liar then," you said, unapologetically.

Tartaglia huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I guess it does." He pushed off the couch and fixed his long sleeves, turning toward the door with a swift pivot. "Just be on alert, comrade, there are those of us who will stop at nothing to get what we want. We might be on the same team, but it doesn't make us collaborative."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Tartaglia reached the door but looked over his shoulder, his eyes flickering to you quickly before falling to the polished marble. "Keep clear of the Doctor, alright?"

"Dottore?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Good. Good." He opened the door but your voice stopped him before he could leave.

"Why'd you come? What do you get out of this?"

He didn't answer at first. Instead, he rested his forehead against the door. When he met your eyes, you registered the emotion trapped in the blue.

Homesickness. Ache.

"Just be careful," he said his words settling at the sound of the closing door.

Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to abandoned plates, and when Diluc finally returned, he refused to let you leave his sight.

[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.

[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.

[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.