#THEY COULD NOTICE ME ACROSS THE BAR AND TELL ME THEY LIKE MY VIBE

[aspenonthecoast]

Bi wife energy, he has bi wife energy Bi wife energy, yeah, he has bi wife energy - Bi Wife Energy, Cringe and the Lizards (x)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 

Mrs. Peña. 

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 

 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[bucknastysbabe]

I just read all your hotd posts and let me tell you I am OBSESSED!

Wanted to ask if you could potentially write something for cockwarming with Jace please? Maybe not as an modern au but with actual prince Jahaerys Valeryon?

If not that’s totally fine but I would go CRAZY if you would! Absolutely love your work

YES I CAN- I LOVE SOME CUNTY JACAERYS HES PERFEXT AND HUNG. Sorry for the wait hope you like❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dreary - Jace Velaryon x Bar Emmon!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Fluffy fluff, sweet baby boy jace, who has a horse cock, set around 2x02, intimacy hehe, cock warming, Baela is a bad bitch she ALLOWS jace to have his little swordfish gf, rip luke ily baby, anyways pnv!sex, some angst, PREP, also I just know the vibes at dragonstone are rancid I would be pissed

Taglist: @aemondfairy @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @elaratyrell @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose @simp-aholic @jacevelaryonswife (I just added you bc jace wife)

It was a dreary day on Dragonstone. Which was more often than not. Chilly, fierce winds blowing across the Gullet into the Blackwater. You knew how harsh these winds and storms could be, being born Bar Emmon of Sharp Point.

Something was stagnant around the ancient keep of Dragonstone. Perhaps it was the war beginning to ramp up, the continued grief of Prince Lucerys’ death. Going outdoors was a luxury on the volcanic island, anything to escape the mounting emotions within.

Baela was deep within the keep with Queen Rhaenyra. You were a lady-in-waiting of Princess Baela, but she oft preferred her independence or family. The Targaryen dismissed you to ‘find some rest’.

Walking aimlessly around the fused Valyrian stone, hand dragging upon the cold wall, you entered the library. The smell of books and the usual brimstone filled your nose. Haggard gargoyles and wyverns decorated the walls. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, that in the shape of a dragon’s maw. You’d be lying if you said this place wasn’t strange.

Peering among the old tomes and stacked scrolls, you noticed a familiar tousled head sitting in front of the fire. The Prince Jacaerys, the betrothed of Baela. Even if they seemed better friends than to be married as of late. Baela confessed to you late at night that she didn’t want to fall for him during a time of war.

You’d taken to the Prince meanwhile. Guilt didn’t pool in your gut when the Princess didn’t seem to care. Baela knew about your trysts and caught you kissing him in an alcove. Your lips quirked up at the memory— the gorgeous Princess merely laughed, “I was wondering if you had it in you, Jace.”

Coming close to him, you paused. Jace had been struggling as of late. He was brooding and ridden with grief over Luke. You nervously fingered at your dark blue dress, debating if you should leave him be. He was taking on more of a role in the escalating war.

“My Prince,” came your softened call.

He straightened up, turning to face you over a shoulder. Jace hummed, “Lady Bar Emmon. Are you finding yourself stifled again?” He turned further to get a look at you, brown eyes softening. He looked handsome in his black tunic, fine red dragons woven upon the sleeves.

“Quite stifling today. Winter is coming.”

He laughed softly at that, beckoning you over.

You padded to the chair adjacent, Jacaerys familiar arms pulling you back into his lap. You bit back a yelp, looking at him in shock. His full lips curled up a bit as he murmured, “Winter is coming. I saw it firsthand at the Wall. The Stark in the North himself told me all about it.”

You adjusted to curl more to the side, gently petting his curls, careful not to pull. “That sounds…frightful actually,” came your admittance. Jace looked amused as he replied, “Lord Cregan, I liked him, but he was intense. I do prefer the South, Vermax does. He’s likely all snug in his nest.”

The Dragonmont. You wouldn’t mind a warm nest for a minute. Albeit not at Dragon levels.

You laughed softly, “What about the Eyrie? I suppose it was nicer flying up the Mountains of the Moon. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful of the Castles.”

Jace’s dark eyes sparkled a little as he teased, “Not as beautiful as Sharp Point my lady.”

You batted his shoulder with a scoff and a frown, “Very funny, a big watch tower and old fortifications. Tell me about the Eyrie!”

He chuckled softly, a hand coming up to cradle your neck, his other arm securing your waist. Jacaerys hummed, “Very well, the home of Lady Jeyne was magnificent. All white marble with blue veins. Seven slim towers, no stables, no smithy’s, but a large granary. You can hear Alyssa’s tears, it’s very soothing.”

You looked on in awe as you imagined the painting come to life with his words. Jace continued as he nuzzled your neck, “Mm- just as gorgeous and crisp on the inside, I slept quite well, and got to see the infamous moon door and sky cells. Very Andal castle, don’t know how they did it.”

You gripped his hair as his plush lips began to press against your neck. “Did Vermax like it?” You asked in a shaky voice. He laughed against your sensitive skin, “Of course, scaring the tribes and eating their goats.” Jacaerys pressed one more kiss before pulling back, his ringed hand cupping your cheek.

“I’m sorry I’ve been…distanced,” he murmured, those damn dark eyes and long lashes piercing your heart. Shushing the Prince you shook your head, firmly stating, “You have been grieving. We all grieve, especially for you and your family. For him.”

You didn’t want to speak his name out loud, the lingering implication made sweet Jace blink and look away. Thumbing away his stray tear you murmured, “I wish I could take that pain from you.” He looked back, croaking as his arms engulfed you.

“I missed you so much.”

You sighed the words back, realigning your hips to face his, straddling the prince. Cupping his cheek once again you closed into his mouth, gentle at first. It felt like years while he was gone. Jacaerys grabbed your hips, pulling you flush as he kissed back, full lips soft and careful.

His length throbbed against your thigh as the kisses deepened, Jace’s hands wandering from your ass to your waist, greedily grabbing any flesh. You moaned into his mouth, Jace filling the space with his tongue, sliding it against your own. The brunette moaned, “Gods I missed you. More than just this.”

You pressed your forehead to him, panting, “I missed you too, love. More than this, as much as I enjoy it too.”

He laughed, nibbling at the hollow of your throat, hands sliding up your skirts to reveal your stockings and bare cunt. Jacaerys groaned again, his cock twitching. He mumbled, “Need to get you ready for me again angel.” You nodded, weakly nodding.

Jacaerys’ cock could easily make you bleed everywhere, especially after months apart. He resumed his attention to your neck, thick fingers sliding down to drift across your slick folds and opening. He teased at your clit, drawing a gasp.

You grabbed his hair and pulled him back, kissing him hard as one finger slid into your cunt, pumping just so before quickly adding another. Jace breathed against your twitching lips, “You’re eager.” He had that cocky lopsided smile, eyes hazy.

He pumped his fingers deeper, curling them as you gasped, “I- ah! Could say the same.” You felt his cock straining his breeches, rubbing against heated flesh. Jace moaned again, fingers stretching and scissoring, adding his third finger.

You mewled a little at the pinch, tucking your face into his warm neck. The prince cooed and drug the heel of his palm against your clit, the other hand rubbing your trembling back in slow circles. His voice was a near whisper as he praised, “You’re alright my love, you’re doing so good, gonna feel so good.”

His pinky slipped in your slippery, stretched cunt now, keeping you open as he eased the four digits in and out as you whimpered, Jacaerys kissing your lips and cheeks, shushing you. He adjusted and curled upwards again, dragging roughly against your sweet spot.

You cried out in the library, Jace using his off hand to pull down your dress, suckling and nibbling at your tits as he spread you impossibly open. He sealed his mouth over your nipple, flicking his tongue, playfully humming.

The discomfort was edging into pleasure quickly as Jacaerys worked your body. Your whimpering had turned to panting, then whining in ecstasy as he stuffed you with his sinful fingers, those pretty swollen lips around your tit. You couldn’t help but shiver and grab his hair, muscles tensing up as you moaned his name.

He groaned, kissing his way across the valley of your tits to latch onto the other, his ever-wandering hand giving your now neglected teat a playful squeeze. His fingers were only moving quicker as your cunt practically drooled all over his hand, the lurid squelching loud. You blushed at the sound, heaving and shivering once more.

He swiped your clit one good time, sending you over the edge with a muffled cry, gushing and spasming from head to toe. He pulled off your nipple to watch in awe, murmuring, “My pretty girl.”

You shook through the remnants of the orgasm, cunt twitchy and sensitive even after Jacaerys eased his fingers out. He was undoing his breeches now, moaning under his breath as you watched him pull out his flushed cock, slathering his wet fingers all over the organ.

The sight drew out a low mewl. Jace’s pretty cock was a sight to be seen. He was blessed by the Father, to say the least. Abnormally large yet otherworldly. Dragon cock or whatever they called it in jest.

You lifted your tired hips, the brunette whimpering a little as he slicked himself up further against you, gasping as he swirled the blunt head around your entrance. Jace moaned, “F-fuck, okay, okay, ready my love?”

You nodded, eyes on his as you began to sink, mouth falling open as the oversensitivity and fullness struck. Jace’s thumbs were on your hips, swirling little circles as you descended. The pair of you gasped and panted wetly into each other’s mouths, eyes watery and intense.

Your ass met his lap, a tremble up your spine from the fullness. Jace pulled you against him, stretching his legs out as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. His hands rubbed your back, lulling you into relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you settled atop Jace, your cunt pleasantly full and stretched, throbbing a bit.

“Can we perhaps, sit like this for a bit?” You asked him, holding his cheek. Jace seemed more than fine, running his hands lazily across your back still, petting at your hair. He hummed, “Mhm, yes, that’ll be perfect.”

So the pair of you sat in relative ease, humming and lazing by fire. There wasn’t much of a need to speak, more of a time for comfort and intimacy. Jace rambled a little about how much he cared for you, getting shushed again. He smiled at you, rolling his eyes.

The feeling of your lover’s molten cock was beginning to make you sweat. Jacaerys fared no better, shifting restlessly, hands sliding up to grab your ass. He moaned as you clenched involuntarily, needing more. The brunette whispered, “You want it now love? I want you now.”

Indulging the prince you nodded, moaning, “Yes my prince, it’s time, ngh- gods.”

His head fell back as his hands gripped your waist, thrusting up for the first time. Jace’s moan echoed as he pulled back to fuck up into you again. You gasped and whined as he seemed to stuff your cunt further, hips slapping against your ass.

Jacaerys planted his feet, breathing hard as he began to fuck in earnest, mouth hanging open, lips puffy. You felt him eyeing you, your tits bouncing, your stomach baring the vague outline of his cock deep, deep inside. He grunted and held you tighter, losing himself in your slick core.

He inhaled sharply, stuttering his hips, babbling, “Fuck- you feel- so tight my love.” You were at his mercy, reduced to little whines and tears, he was rubbing everything, the friction rising. You clenched further and further as he forced his cock into you, grunting and groaning. Jace’s heavy balls slapped your ass, just another sound in the cacophony of sex.

You shivered and came first, having to pull yourself off, sharply crying. Jace’s cock was hot against your backside, whining some as he pumped a heavy load on your back and ass. You fell against him again, legs shaky and aching from the splendid pain. He panted, holding you tight.

Jace kissed the crown of your head, the comfortable, loving silence between you two and the crackling fire filling the library again. You’d wash up once you figured you could walk again. Damn, Prince.

[creamflix]

biker! veritas ratio x female reader x biker! aventurine; 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS dni or follow, you'll be blocked), threesome, dub-con/cnc (u fw them heavy!!), sub!reader, overstimulation, p in v, creampies, voyeurism, sadistic aventurine, throttle play ??, spanking, ratio's implied to wear his helmet most of the time, fucking on a bike !!, oral (f. & m. receiving, separate), backshots <3, possessive aventurine & ratio — wc: 4.4k words.... goodnight – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

you hadn’t realized the kind of place you’d walked into. sure, it was a bar, and it had that rough, edgy vibe — but you figured it was just the usual crowd. 

not somewhere dangerous. 

not the kind of place that’d have people staring at you the moment you crossed the threshold, their gazes lingering just a little too long, drinking you in like you were the freshest thing they’d seen in weeks.

you made your way to the counter, trying to brush off the feeling, thinking maybe you were imagining it. not until two sets of eyes — one mismatched, sharp as a predator’s; the other hidden behind a reflective visor — fixed on you from across the room.

you perched at the bar, awkwardly flagging down the bartender. “just a drink,” you muttered, too focused on finding some normalcy in the situation to realize what was happening behind you.

aventurine noticed first, of course. leaned back in his seat, legs stretched out, looking like he owned the damn place. sandy-blond hair falling just right over his brow, magenta and cyan eyes gleaming with interest. “what do we have here…” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. the smirk on his lips grew wider as he watched you fumble for your drink, completely unaware of how much danger you were in.

meanwhile, ratio observed from the other end of the bar. much more stoic, controlled, his hands resting elegantly over a glass of dark liquor. underneath that pristine helmet of his, he watched with calculated focus, analyzing every little detail — the way your fingers drummed nervously against the counter, the way your eyes darted around, clearly out of your element. “an unexpected visitor,” he mused under his breath, his voice smooth and articulate. “curious… what brings someone like you here, i wonder?”

aventurine didn’t waste time. he pushed off from his seat and sauntered over, his presence magnetic, drawing attention even if you weren’t aware of it yet. he slid into the space beside you, leaning an arm against the counter as his eyes flickered down your form. “you lost, sweetheart?” his voice was playful, teasing, but there was an edge to it — a warning, if you were paying attention. but of course, you weren’t.

you glanced at him, offering a small smile. “uh, no… just stopping in for a drink.”

“mm, is that right?” aventurine’s smirk widened. “you sure you’re in the right place? this isn’t exactly your kind of scene, is it?”

“i’m fine,” you replied, trying to dismiss the way he was looking at you, though something about it made your pulse quicken.

“oh, i don’t know,” he drawled, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “something tells me you might need a little guidance… lucky for you, i’m feeling generous tonight.”

before you could respond, a deeper voice interrupted, smooth and calculated — ratio’s, as he approached from the other side. “aventurine,” he greeted coolly, giving the man a pointed glance before turning to you. his posture was formal, upright, even in a place like this. “forgive my associate here; he can be… overzealous.” his words were polite, even as he reached out, brushing his gloved fingers along your wrist, a subtle touch that sent a shiver through you. “it seems you may have walked into the wrong establishment, miss. this place… is not for the uninitiated.”

you blinked, feeling caught between them. “i — i was just —”

“oh, we know,” aventurine interrupted, his voice laced with amusement as he slid even closer. “but that’s okay. we like your type. a little out of place, a little lost… it’s cute.”

ratio’s gaze darkened beneath his helmet’s visor, but he didn’t move to correct aventurine. instead, he tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping into a softer, more intimate tone. “he’s correct, you know. there are eyes on you already… many of the patrons here wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage of someone so… unaware.” his gloved fingers pressed more firmly against your wrist, a silent claim. “but fortunately for you… you’ve caught our attention first.”

“and we don’t plan on letting anyone else near you,” aventurine added, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his lips almost brushing your skin. “not when we’ve got plans of our own…”

your heart raced. “i should probably leave —”

“oh, you’re not leaving,” aventurine’s grin turned feral as he tightened his grip on your waist. “not until we’ve had our fun with you.”

“he’s right,” ratio agreed, his composure still intact, but his voice holding a dangerous edge now. “you wouldn’t make it very far on your own, i’m afraid. but stay with us, and we’ll ensure you’re… well taken care of.”

the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. something in you knew that you should leave, that you shouldn’t be entertaining this. but when they both stepped closer, flanking you on either side, their combined presence overwhelming, intoxicating… you couldn’t resist.

aventurine chuckled, his voice a low purr as he leaned in. “let’s take this outside, baby. wouldn’t want to make too much of a scene in here, now would we?”

ratio’s hand slipped to your lower back, guiding you as he led the way. “yes, discretion is key… at least for the moment.”

they ushered you out of the bar, and the night air hit you like a jolt, the reality of what was happening sinking in — only for a second. because when you saw their bikes parked in the dim glow of the streetlights, your breath caught. aventurine’s bike was all flair and flash, gleaming with chrome and covered in gambling-themed motifs. ratio’s, on the other hand, was sleek, almost academic in its precision, an owl emblem etched into the side along with laurel detailing.

"hop on," aventurine’s voice had dropped an octave, thick with promise. he leaned back against his bike, one hand resting on the throttle as he gestured for you to come closer. "we’re gonna make this fun for you, baby. just follow our lead."

ratio’s fingers brushed the small of your back, his voice calm but commanding. "you may find this… unconventional. but i assure you, the pleasure you’ll experience is far beyond anything you could imagine."

you hesitated, glancing between them — part of you still thinking you could back out. but aventurine gave a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming under the streetlights as he reached for your waist, pulling you toward him. "trust me," he purred, lips brushing your ear. "by the time we’re done, you won’t want to leave."

you found yourself being pressed between them, the weight of aventurine behind you, ratio in front. ratio’s gloved hands slid down your sides, almost too formal in their movements, but the second he felt your body tense against him, his composure cracked just a little. "you’re trembling," he observed quietly, his voice still smooth but lower now. "are you nervous, or is it anticipation?"

aventurine chuckled, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingertips tracing teasing patterns along your skin. "either way… we’re gonna make you forget everything else."

you didn’t have time to respond before ratio leaned closer, his helmet pressed to your forehead. "feel the engine," he murmured, turning the key in his bike. the motor rumbled to life, vibrations thrumming through your legs, making you gasp. "that’s just the beginning."

aventurine revved his bike’s engine next, the low growl of it matching his own as he kissed along your neck, his hand sliding down between your thighs. "yeah, baby… feel that? we’re just getting started."

ratio’s formal tone slipped, the edge in his voice now fully breaking. "fuck… you’re going to feel so fucking good when we’re inside you."

you’re still pinned between the two bikes, engines purring beneath you, the vibrations from each one subtly teasing your already sensitive body. aventurine's sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as his hands roam possessively over you, but your eyes keep drifting back to ratio, that mysterious helmet of his, hiding his face.

"what’s the matter, sweetheart?" aventurine drawls, fingers brushing down your sides with that teasing edge. "distracted by our dear ratio? don’t worry, he’s not always such a stick in the mud."

your heart skips a beat when ratio steps forward, silent as ever. his gloved hand slowly lifts, fingers moving to the clasp on the side of his helmet, and you hold your breath. the metallic click echoes in the cool night air as he pulls the helmet free, revealing sharp features, lips slightly parted as if about to speak, and those piercing eyes that seem to take you apart in one look. the sight of him, so unexpectedly gorgeous, knocks the air from your lungs.

“like what you see?” aventurine teases, but there’s an edge in his voice now, a sharpness that wasn't there before. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back into him as he leans in to whisper against your ear. “she’s staring a bit too long, don’t you think, ratio?”

ratio’s eyes stay locked on yours, expression calm and composed, but there’s something darker brewing beneath. "i don’t mind," he says quietly, voice smooth but edged with something dangerous. "though," he continues, eyes flicking to aventurine, "we wouldn’t want to break such a pretty thing, would we?"

aventurine chuckles darkly, "no, but she needs to learn not to be so distracted when i’m right here." without warning, his gloved hand comes down on your ass, the sharp sting of the leather making you gasp. "keep your eyes on both of us, sweetheart." he spanks you again, harder this time, causing you to jolt forward with the impact. "can’t let you forget about me."

"easy," ratio murmurs, frowning slightly as he watches aventurine. "don’t want to leave marks, not yet."

aventurine laughs, though his eyes darken with jealousy, and his hand finally loosens its grip. “fine, fine,” he mutters, stepping back. “but don’t take too long — i don’t share well.”

ratio’s gaze softens just a touch, his hands coming to rest on your trembling thighs. he moves you carefully, positioning you so your bare thighs straddle his bike. "hold on," he whispers, placing his helmet on your head before you even realize what’s happening. the scent of him fills your senses, intoxicating, while the visor cuts off your vision, leaving you in the dark, left to feel instead of see.

“you’re mine now,” ratio whispers, voice vibrating through the helmet. you feel his warm breath against your core, his lips brushing the sensitive skin before he presses a kiss there, teasingly slow. his tongue flicks out, the wet heat of his mouth sending jolts of pleasure through you as he starts to eat you out with a calculated precision that leaves you gasping.

and then, you hear it — the bike’s throttle. ratio’s hand rests casually on the handle, fingers playing with the throttle as he revs the engine, each vibration from the bike’s motor sending shudders through your core, right where his mouth is. the combination of his tongue lapping at you and the engine vibrating beneath your pussy has you a writhing mess in seconds.

"fuck," you gasp, voice muffled inside the helmet, but ratio doesn’t let up. he’s merciless, the vibrations from the bike sync with his tongue, alternating between slow, teasing laps and deep, firm strokes. every time the engine roars, the sensation triples, and you’re thrown into the kind of pleasure that leaves you delirious.

“how’s that feel, sweetheart?” aventurine’s voice breaks through, and you feel his presence behind you again, his hands running down your back before he grips your ass, fingers digging in as he spreads you wider for ratio. “don’t forget, the harder you throttle,” he purrs, “the harder we fuck you.”

ratio slows down, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum. “go on,” he murmurs against your soaked core. “show us how much you want it.”

with trembling hands, you reach for the throttle, fingers curling around it as you start to twist. immediately, the engine roars to life again, the powerful vibrations rocking through your body, and ratio’s tongue dives in deeper, his mouth working you over until you’re panting. your hips jerk forward, desperate for more.

“harder,” aventurine hisses, smacking your ass again. “you wanna get fucked, right? throttle it harder.”

you obey, twisting the throttle even more, the engine’s roar becoming deafening as your body is wracked with vibrations. ratio’s hands grip your thighs tighter, his tongue flicking over your clit in rapid strokes until you’re on the verge of breaking. the pleasure builds, higher and higher, until you can’t hold back anymore.

you let out a choked moan, body shuddering as you finally cum, the engine purring beneath you as ratio keeps his mouth on you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling, barely able to stay upright.

but they’re not done with you yet.

“good girl,” aventurine murmurs approvingly, pulling you back against his chest. he lifts you off ratio’s bike and turns you to face his own. you’re still shaking, but aventurine holds you steady as he positions you on his bike, your legs spread wide over the seat. “now, let’s see how fast you can ride.”

ratio steps behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he helps guide you down onto aventurine’s cock. the stretch makes you cry out, but ratio’s hand is already on your clit, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as aventurine thrusts up into you.

“that’s it,” ratio murmurs against your ear, his leather jacket cool against your burning skin. “ride him like you’re on the open road.”

aventurine’s thrusts are deep and hard, and with each one, the bike beneath you rocks, the motion sending shockwaves through your body. ratio’s hands are everywhere — your tits, your clit, pulling and teasing until you’re nothing but a mess between them.

"you want more?" aventurine growls, slamming into you faster. "then throttle it. show me how fast you want it."

your hands, shaky but desperate for more, reach for the throttle again, twisting it hard. the engine roars, and aventurine follows suit, his thrusts becoming brutal as he fucks you on the bike. ratio keeps you steady, whispering filthy encouragements into your ear while his hands drive you to another orgasm.

ratio’s hands are still on your trembling body, keeping you steady as aventurine cums inside you with a guttural groan. the sound of his breathless chuckle fills your ears as he pulls out, leaving you empty and sensitive. the bike's engine continues to rumble beneath you, continuing it’s brutal teasing of overstimulating you.

you feel ratio behind you, his presence quieter than aventurine's but just as potent. he’s helped you through every wave of pleasure, and now, despite his quiet demeanor, you know he’s still holding back. his gloved hand brushes your side tenderly, as if he doesn’t want to impose.

"ratio," you whisper, voice shaky but determined. you turn your head to meet his gaze, his dark eyes full of restraint. despite the filthy scene surrounding the two of you, his gaze remains calm — too calm for someone who hasn’t had his own share yet.

he raises an eyebrow, clearly confused by your soft call of his name. aventurine, on the other hand, is leaning back against his bike, amused, probably expecting you to collapse from exhaustion. but you have other plans.

before ratio can respond, you sink down onto your knees in front of him, your eyes locking with his as your hands reach for his belt. his breath hitches, and for the first time, you see his composure crack.

“what are you…” he begins, but his voice falters when you unzip his pants and pull him free. his cock is already hard, and the moment you wrap your hand around him, his knees nearly buckle. “you don’t have to —”

“i want to,” you cut him off with a small smile, and that’s all it takes. ratio’s eyes darken, his lips parting as he watches you in stunned silence.

you give him a slow, teasing stroke, and his head falls back, exposing the line of his throat. you’re entranced by the sight of him losing that usual control—his carefully constructed facade crumbling as you start to take him in your mouth. the warmth of your lips envelops him, and the deep groan that escapes ratio’s throat is nothing short of divine.

"fuck," he curses under his breath, the curse slipping from his lips, so unlike his usual refined speech. it’s clear that you’ve unraveled him completely. his hands come to rest on your head, fingers weaving into your hair but not pushing, not guiding — he’s letting you set the pace, the control entirely in your hands.

“she’s a quick learner, isn’t she?” aventurine's voice cuts through, and you feel his presence behind you once more. ratio’s eyes open, briefly meeting aventurine's amused smirk before focusing back on you, pupils blown wide with desire.

aventurine kneels behind you, his hands trailing down your back, but his attention is on ratio now. "you don’t have to be so shy, man," he teases, giving your ass a playful smack. “enjoy her, yeah? she’s already decided how she wants to worship you."

you can feel ratio’s body tense beneath your hands, his breathing labored as your mouth works his cock with practiced ease. but the moment aventurine’s leather-clad hand connects with your skin, the sting sends a shiver through you that you can’t suppress.

ratio’s hands tighten in your hair as you moan around him, and the sound pushes him further toward the edge. “you’re — fuck — unreal,” he groans, voice heavy with need.

aventurine’s hands wander, one of them gripping your waist while the other spanks you again, harder this time. you whimper, the vibrations traveling through your throat, making ratio gasp above you. “that’s it,” aventurine purrs, leaning in close enough that you feel his hot breath against your skin. “keep making those pretty noises for him.”

you can hear ratio’s breathing becoming more ragged, his hips jerking slightly as he tries to keep himself under control, but you’re relentless. you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper until his grip on your hair tightens, and for a second, it seems like he’s going to lose it completely.

but then, aventurine’s cock presses against you from behind, and the sudden stretch makes you cry out around ratio. aventurine doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask. he thrusts into you with a low groan, the wet, filthy sounds of him fucking you mixing with the ragged sounds of ratio’s breath.

"fuck," aventurine growls, his hands gripping your waist tight. “so tight. you’re perfect, baby.”

ratio watches, his expression torn between pleasure and frustration. “aventurine,” he says, voice tight as his hand pulls you closer to his hips. “you’ll break her.”

aventurine only chuckles darkly, leaning over you as his hips snap into yours. “don’t worry,” he murmurs, “i’ll make sure she’s still pretty when i’m done with her.”

you’re caught between them — ratio’s cock in your mouth, aventurine pounding into you from behind, and every nerve in your body alight with sensation. ratio’s hands tremble as he grips your head, groaning as you take him deeper.

“fuck… you’re going to make me —” ratio starts, but aventurine interrupts with a sharp thrust that makes you whimper around ratio’s cock.

“do it,” aventurine purrs, hand coming down hard on your ass again. "cum for her. she’s begging for it, look at her.”

ratio’s jaw clenches, his restraint snapping as he thrusts into your mouth, the wet sound of you gagging on him the last thing he needs to fall apart. with a deep groan, he cums down your throat, his hands keeping you still as he fills your mouth. you swallow everything, your tongue still working him through it as his body trembles above you.

as soon as ratio is spent, aventurine pulls you back into him, his cock still driving into you mercilessly. your body feels weak, overwhelmed, but aventurine doesn’t let up. "you look so good with your mouth full, baby," he growls, thrusting harder. "now let me finish what we started.”

ratio watches, chest still heaving as aventurine slams into you one last time, his rough hands gripping your waist as he cums deep inside you with a low, satisfied growl. the aftershocks ripple through your body, leaving you gasping, completely wrecked.

aventurine finally pulls out, his hands sliding over your skin one last time before he steps back with a satisfied smirk. "what’d i tell you?" he says to ratio, still catching his breath. "this pretty thing’s all ours now."

ratio’s eyes meet yours, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he brushes your hair back from your face. "you were perfect," he whispers, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. and in that moment, despite the chaos, you know you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

the air around you is heavy with the aftermath of your sinful rendezvous. aventurine’s hands are still warm on your skin as he chuckles softly, satisfied with the way your body shivers. he runs a gloved hand along your back, soothing the marks he left, while ratio gently helps you to your feet, his touch far more careful.

“easy now,” ratio murmurs, voice calm but filled with concern. his strong arms steady you, and despite everything, he’s still the gentleman between the two. aventurine leans back against his bike, a grin pulling at his lips as he watches you two.

“took it like a champ, didn’t she?” aventurine hums, brushing the hair from your sweaty face. his eyes roam over your body, lingering on the marks both of them left behind. “can’t leave her like this, though. let’s get her nice and cozy.”

with surprising tenderness, aventurine pulls his leather jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders. it’s too big, swallowing your frame in warmth, but the weight of it feels grounding. it smells like him — leather and smoke, mixed with something heady and masculine. he adjusts the collar, winking at you as he does.

ratio shakes his head at aventurine’s theatrics, but even he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. he turns back to you, carefully brushing your face with the back of his knuckles. “you did well,” he says, his voice low and soothing. "now let's get you patched up."

you can’t help but feel the rush of heat at how gentle he is after all they’ve put you through. ratio’s hand slides under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “you should rest,” he adds, though his eyes glimmer with a possessiveness that mirrors aventurine's.

aventurine’s eyes, however, are full of mischief. as he fixes your jacket, he slips something from the ground into his pocket — your hair tie, one you hadn’t noticed had fallen off in the heat of it all. "just a keepsake," he says when you give him a questioning look, smirking as he taps the pocket where he’s placed it. "something to remember our pretty little thing by."

“aventurine,” ratio sighs, rolling his eyes. but he doesn’t argue—he knows better. instead, ratio reaches behind him and, without another word, takes off his signature helmet, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, his voice soft, but there’s a firm insistence in his tone. “you’re mine now, so take it.”

the weight of his helmet in your hands feels significant, far more than just an accessory. it’s his claim on you, and when you look up at him, his eyes are unwavering. aventurine watches with a satisfied smirk, clearly enjoying the moment.

“looks good on you already,” aventurine murmurs, leaning in to place his sunglasses on your face as well, the reflective lenses hiding your wide, dazed eyes. "now everyone will know exactly who you belong to."

your breath hitches as you realize you’re draped in their things — ratio’s helmet under your arm, aventurine’s sunglasses on your face, and his jacket keeping you warm. they’ve marked you in every way possible, and the thought makes your heart pound in your chest.

“our little pretty thing,” aventurine whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “whether you like it or not.”

but the truth is, you love it. the way they claim you, the way they’ve made sure every single person will know you belong to them — there’s no denying the thrill that rushes through you at the thought.

it’s been some time since that night, but every memory is still vivid in your mind. you stand outside the same bar, the one you unknowingly stumbled into before. only this time, you're far from oblivious.

ratio’s helmet is tucked under your arm, aventurine’s sunglasses perched on your face, and his leather jacket still hangs from your shoulders. the second you step into the bar, heads turn, but instead of the lingering stares and lewd comments, there’s a palpable tension in the air.

people recognize you now.

you walk through the crowd, the loud chatter of the bar quieting as bikers move out of your way. their eyes drop to the helmet, the sunglasses, and they shrink back, knowing exactly who you belong to. they’ve all heard the stories — two of the most notorious bikers in the scene have already laid their claim on you. and no one dares mess with you now.

you catch a glimpse of aventurine leaning against the bar, his signature grin flashing the moment he spots you. beside him, ratio is seated with his usual calm demeanor, but the second he sees his helmet in your hand, a small smirk tugs at his lips.

you make your way toward them, and aventurine stands to greet you, pulling you into a quick embrace. “look who’s back,” he purrs, his fingers brushing the edge of the jacket. “wearing our gifts so well.”

ratio’s eyes lock with yours, the faintest trace of pride in his gaze as he gestures for you to sit beside him. “took you long enough,” he says, voice smooth. “i was beginning to think you forgot about us.”

you shake your head, settling in between them, feeling their warmth and protection. “never,” you reply softly, a smile playing on your lips. “how could i?”

the rest of the bar knows better than to get too close — because you aren’t just anyone anymore. you’re ratio and aventurine’s pretty little thing, and the whole world knows it.

this was rotting in my drafts for a while, and only on reading @sugoroo 's satosugu fanfic i was given enough motivation to fine-tune this (˵ •̀▽•́ ˵ ) make sure u check out her work/s too <3

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[ghettogirly]

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄!!

-> synopsis: where he sees an unwanted man bothering you at the bar and decides to step in.

[🕷️] warnings: mature language, presence of guns, mention of violence, mention of alcohol.

[🕷️] authors note: this is my first time writing an imagine after three years so bear with me!! please reblog and like if you enjoy!

It was a cool day in nighttime of Miami, the sky cascades with elements of black and dark purple as the day descends into the night. You walked into the club, Zillion, and a stone of lights automatically attacks your eyes. The neon colours and the loud music hits your ears as swarms of people dance around you.

Your friends encouraged you to come out with them for once as you always stay at home, loving the peace and comfort of your own house. However, you felt guilty neglecting them and decided to accept their offer.

“Isn’t this fun!”, your best friend, Selina squeals.

You try push out a smile but you can’t help but still not feel the excitement that runs throughout the cramped room. “This isn’t my vibe, i want to go home already.” You sigh, feeling an aching sensation in the side of your head.

Nevertheless, your friends drags you to a tiny booth, having a small table with a bucket of ice and champagne placed on it. They start dancing to the music a little bit while deciding what they’re going to drink, completely hypnotised by the energy surging throughout the room. You just stand there, trying to loosen up a bit.

Your eyes scan the room, looking over the crowd of people on the dance floor before landing on a balcony on the upper floor. The VIP section. Interested, you observe the people there noticing flamboyant men with chains and clearly a lot of wealth. Sleazy women were scattered around them as they entertained useless conversations and presented flattery to the men. However, there was one particular man who was sitting there, a glass of whiskey and ice in his hand, completely zoned out.

You was fascinated. From your angle you could only see certain details of him. He wore a black silk shirt and ripped jeans, his lips were full, pink and glossy with his right eyebrow having a scar stripped through it. His tan skin shone in the neon lights, the club lights flattering his skin as the purple light compliments his cool undertones.

He was clearly uninterested in the girls around him, his scowl present on his face as he ignores the countless efforts of conversations around him.

Time goes by and you lose focus of everything going around you: eyes glued onto him. Everything seemed to stand still, the world no longer being important unless-

“Hey! What you looking at?” One of your friends shout from across the booth, snapping you out of ogling of the mysterious man. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Okay well, can you get us some drinks from the bar? I want a vodka with coke and some shots for the table, get whatever you want it’s on me!” She shouts over the defeaning music, shooing me away.

“Looks like i have no choice,” I sigh.

Walking over to the bar, i sit on one of the wooden stools, waiting for a bartender to approach me. Tapping the table out of habit, i feel a presence behind me. “Hey pretty lady, what’s your name?” The unknown man whispers, i feel his hot breath on my ear, causing me to shiver.

“I don’t have a name.” I groan, not even bothering to turn around and engage with the clearly drunken man, already over with the situation. He sits down beside me nevertheless. “Everyone has a name angel, come on.. tell me.” His alcoholic breath floods my nose, i squirm at the thought of the amount of alcohol he’s consumed.

His hand reaches over to my hair, tucking it behind my ear which now causes me to turn to his direction but move my head back in retaliation from the bold move. “I said i don’t have one, leave me alone.”

Out of nowhere, he grabs my face and forces me to look at him. “Don’t make me ask again.” The force he inflicts on my face causes my eyes to water, unable to say anything due to the man’s blind rage, i try repeatedly tapping his arm to let go of me but the alcohol has clouded his sense of judgement.

A whistle is then heard behind the man. “Let go.”

I look up and it’s the same man i noticed sitting at the VIP booth, he holds a silver glock to creep’s head, his face undistinguishable. Moving to the man’s ear he whispers, “don’t make me have to tell you twice,” his accent thick and heavy.

The man instantly lets go of my face, clearly shaking at not only the presence of the foreign man but the gun to his head as well. I sit there in shock, my eyes flickering from man to man, frozen as to what’s going to happen next.

“Now you’re going to apologise to this pretty lady and leave this club, don’t let me see you again or i will kill you.” He states casually, before swiftly putting the man into a headlock, keeping the gun in the same position. “Trust me, i’ll make sure to do it slowly and painfully.” He holds him down harder before letting him go, the drunken man chokes out and wheezes before running out of the club side to side due to his incompetent state.

The foreign man now turns to me, a slight smirk on his face. “The names Armando. Drinks are on me.”

[jennay]

Last Night

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Tags: @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @dominuslunae @myownthoughts12 @cookiesupplier @somewhere-diamond @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bloody-delusion-expert

Master list

You were supposed to be having a good time at the bar, but something in the back of your mind told you it wouldn't work out that way.

You were attempting to ignore the feeling by sipping on your drink and ignoring the thoughts, but your stomach was uneasy, and your thoughts continued to race. Something didn't feel right.

"Go sing." Folio teases, breaking you out of your trance, "You've had at least three drinks; you'll be fine." He beams from across the table.

You shake your head and smile before walking to sit next to him and across from Jolly. Your nerves were getting the best of you, and you had difficulty sitting in one place. You wonder where Noah is but try to brush it off. You know he's around somewhere, and you didn't want to act like a jealous girlfriend and hunt him down for socializing with other people. You remained calm, and you put your trust in him. You knew if something was wrong, Noah would tell you. The two of you were close to celebrating your third anniversary, and in that time, you had worked so hard on communication skills and learning how to be with one another, fighting the stereotypes of dating an upcoming rockstar; you knew if you could get through the last few rough years, then there was nothing stopping you from being together.

You had no reason to doubt him at least not yet.

"I'll sing with you!" Jolly encourages from across the table, holding his drink up to you as if he wanted you to clink yours in agreement. "It could be fun!"

"No," You laugh as you clink drinks with him. "I'm not doing it. I know you guys and you'll record it and hold it over my head to embarrass the shit out of me tomorrow." You had a decent voice but were not confident enough to show it off.

Bryan and Matt are seen from the door walking toward the table to join in on your fun night out. You wave them over, hoping that it will take the heat off you. They were always up for causing any form of chaos.

"Have Matt and Bryan go with you! They look like they're ready for a good night." You suggest, pointing at their cheerful faces.

Jolly dramatically rolls his brown eyes, "It's not the same." He says, pouting. You knew he wanted to distract you from Noah's absence; he noticed it bothered you more than you let on. He felt something was off about Noah but didn't want to ruin your night.

Jolly was the one who introduced you to Noah, and though he didn't exactly approve of you dating Noah, he gave you his blessing because he knew how much he meant to you.

You shrug him off, standing up, "I'm gonna go find Noah." You announce, feeling a sudden urge to see him. You wanted to know what kept him so long and why he hadn't returned to the table.

"I think I saw him go outside," Ruffilo adds. He'd seen Noah sneak out of the bar about half an hour ago and wondered what he was up to. He hoped it was nothing serious, but he had a nagging suspicion that it was. Noah's vibes were off tonight, and it didn't take much for anyone to notice.

Usually, by this time, you would feel his arm around you, his kisses on your face, and his compliments in your ear. But tonight, Noah was acting distant and cold. He barely touched you, looked at you, or talked to you. You felt a pang of sadness and confusion, wondering what was wrong.

You nod and push your chair back to stand up. You glance over to your side, seeing the sea of people. "Wish me luck." You say with dread; you hated the crowded and noisy bars. You tuck your chair back under the table, taking a deep breath as you try to make your way through the masses. You finally reach the door.

You sigh in relief as you step outside, escaping the noisy and cramped bar. You look around the small patio, illuminated by fairy lights and candles.

You spot Noah sitting at a table near the corner, his back to the wall. You walk over to him with a smile, eager to see him. You stop when his head snaps up at you. He doesn't smile back, and you see the worry in his eyes. You feel your heart sink into your stomach; something is wrong.

"You okay?" You notice he doesn't jump up at the opportunity to hug or kiss you like usual.

He gives you a pained and apologetic glance like he has a secret to tell. You notice him gulp, and you feel his anxiety. You are afraid of what he'll say.

Noah shakes his head, "There's something we should talk about." He says, in a low and serious tone. He signals for you to sit with him, but you don't. You feel reluctant, and you stay where you are. You don't want to give him the opportunity to hurt you because you know he's about to, and it's gonna be agonizing.

You know what those words mean. You had hoped Noah was different and wouldn't hurt you like they did. But now, you realize he's just like them and is about to hurt you more than they ever did.

Noah stands but creates distance between you, unsure how you will react to his words. He knew you weren't going to get violent with him, but he also knew he was about to willingly break your heart, and he hated himself for it. "I didn't want to do this here, but I need to get it out." He sighs, nervously running his tattoed fingers through his long brown hair, attempting to distract himself from what your face will show. "This isn't working." He finally locks eyes with you, ready for you to scream at him.

He shamefully lowers his gaze, and you see him bite his lip. You wonder what else he will say, and a part of you doesn't want to know.

You gasped, your eyes wide open. Even though you felt it was coming, it was still shocking to hear him say it. Noah had promised you everything and was destroying your hope for the future.

You see his nostrils flare, and it looks like he is suppressing his emotions. Noah seems like a different person, not the man you adore. You feel stabbed in the back. You can't believe he is discarding everything you had, shared, and felt.

"What the fuck …" You trail off with a whisper, feeling a lump in your throat.

You feel your jaw harden with anger. You feel so blindsided. How did you trust his lies, his promises, his charms? How did you let him manipulate you and make you think he loved you? Noah wasn't any different from any other man.

"You said you loved me three hours ago…" You say, recalling your conversation as you walked with him to the bar. You'd been holding hands, laughing, and kissing. You'd been happy, and so had he. Or so you thought. He gazed at you with love in his eyes and whispered in your ear that you were his everything. He said he couldn't imagine life without you and wanted to grow old with you. You had meant it, but he hadn't. Now that the truth has hit you, Noah means nothing to you.

"Is there someone else?" You wonder, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest.

Noah nods, his eyes darting to the ground, and he feels shame. He can't look you in the eyes because he knows he doesn't deserve to.

You instantly wonder who she is, what she looks like, what she has that you don't. You wonder how he met her, if he loves her, if he tells her the same things he told you, if he makes her happy.

Noah knows that what he is about to say will make him lose everything, and he doesn't want to see the end, the death, the goodbye in your eyes, but it's too late now.

"She's someone I used to love, and I just, I never got over her, and she's back in town. I don't want to hurt you by continuing this with you if I'm still conflicted about my feelings for her. I have to find out what this means… I'm sorry." He says, sounding genuine but not apologetic. He's only sorry for himself.

You look at him, speechless, numb, broken. You can't comprehend what you just heard, what he just said, what he just did. You can't understand anything except for the pain that consumes your heart, your soul, and your body.

You feel a tear slide down your cheek and brush it away with your hand. You don't want to cry, not for him, not in front of him, not because of him. You don't want to give him the pleasure, the power, or the control.

You don't want to show him your weakness, vulnerability, or humanity. Your anger burns in your chest. You're consumed by it, and he's the target right now.

"Fuck you, Noah… It's fine." You say with a huff. You feel your shoulders tighten and throw your hands up in disbelief. "I'm thankful this happened now and not later when I was super attached to you in the future, and thanks for showing me you're just like every other fucking guy I've dated." Your hands land back at your side with a loud smack. "You promised me you were different, but you're not! You're just like every other half-assed dude. I should have listened to my friends-I should've listened to myself in the beginning! I knew this wouldn't work; you were all these walking red flags and I still tried to look past it and give you a chance!" You shake your head, tilting your gaze up to not let any more tears well up and slide down your face. "I'm going to be fine." You assure him, "Do not come crawling back to me when you're miserable and realize what you've lost."

Noah flinches at your words. His eyes wander your face. He's shocked by your words, anger, and who you just became.

"What's worse is you did it at the bar with all our friends inside. You did this to me in front of Jolly…he was right you know? I should've stayed away from you." You take in a deep breath, your eyes wandering around the patio. You close your eyes and try to maintain your composure. You're greeted by Noah's brown eyes locking with yours when you open them. "I feel like a fucking idiot." You harshly say, not dropping your eye contact with him. It shocked you how those eyes you loved so much made you sick to your stomach.

"I didn't want it to be this way." He whispers, his voice barely audible.

"But it is Noah and I regret ever letting you in. I'll never be able to trust my own judgement again. You wrecked that for me." You say, your voice is cold and bitter. "I hope you fall for that woman so hard, and then she dumps you and shatters your heart, and I hope it hurts so bad." You dry the tears from your eyes as you turn away from him and head back inside the bar.

Jolly sees you crying and trying to get away from the crowd. He notices the pain in your eyes and feels the worry in his chest. He rises from his seat and follows you out the front door, calling your name with concern. He reaches you on the sidewalk and asks you to stop. And when you turn around, you're face to face with him.

You can't talk or breathe; you let him hold you and gently stroke your back. He enfolds you in his arms, and he draws you close to him. He presses his cheek to your head and whispers in your ear. "What happened?"

"He ended it. Like I was nothing to him." You let out another sob.

You feel Jolly's jaw clench and sense his anger, but he's not mad at you. He's angry that he gave Noah the benefit of the doubt. "Do you want me to take you home?" His voice is soft and kind. He knows you need a place to rest, heal, and recover. He knows you need a friend to listen, support, and comfort. Jolly knows you need anyone but Noah. Noah is nothing but the one who broke your heart.

[ace-of-zaun]

Pas de Deux Pt. 10: 

Silco x f!reader, 4.6k words, NSFW(ish)

cw: (please see chapter 1 for full series warnings) angst, fluff, sexual tension, references to masturbation and sex

also, the story rating is going up to explicit from here on out, but i’ll keep including individual chapter warnings so you can decide if that’s your vibe or not :)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9

It really shouldn’t be a surprise when Silco reverts to his overprotective ways after the Jinx incident, where you’d been tied to your bed and interrogated by his surrogate daughter. And having been followed by the bar incident, in which you’d been held hostage in the middle of The Drop with a broken bottle to your neck, it's no wonder he’s acting like you’re a porcelain doll. 

But you’d grown so used to even just that sliver of freedom, the speed in which he’d torn it from your grasp quite honestly stings. 

Oddly enough, the thing that hurts more is that after the harsh reprimanding he’d given his staff for letting someone get to you, practically nobody but Silco will make eye contact with you anymore. It’s not like you’re allowed to go anywhere by yourself, but you’re pretty sure that if you were to wave a flag and scream in Thieram’s face, he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes. 

So, alone again. 

Again. 

Well, alone except for Silco, who not only won’t let you go down into the bar by yourself, but also insists on having you escorted to and from his office, and even to your studio. What’s worse, he’s reverted to wanting you by his side all hours of the day and most of the evening, as if you’ll slip through his fingers the very moment you’re out of his sight. 

Of course, protesting is no use. 

The times you’d asked why you needed a babysitter all day everyday, and why you couldn’t just go back to the one guard instead of a ridiculous three, his dismissive, drawling responses of, “I cannot take any precautions with your safety, you are too important to me,” and, "I need to protect you, my lovely," had awakened a deep urge to scream until your throat burned out.

You never do scream, of course. And since you categorically refuse to plead with him, after only three days of letting him shepherd you around, you resort to the only method that will get through to such a petty soul.

Sulking. 

So, as you sit on your bed, arms crossed petulantly, you futilely contemplate the odds of being able to smash the window, jump to the nearest rooftop, and just run until you reach people that have never even heard of Zaun, all without being noticed.

The newest guard, who’d made the mistake of infuriating you when he’d looked over your shoulder instead of at your face like a decent human being, had tried to escort you to Silco’s office, to which you’d responded rather emphatically, “Tell Silco I’d rather gargle water from the River Pilt and spit it in his face.”

By the time Silco arrives at your still-open bedroom door, a brief glance at the worried look etched upon his face indicates that the guard may have told him something slightly different. 

“Are you not feeling well, darling?” Silco asks, lithe fingers curling around the wooden frame. 

“I'm fine,” is your short response. You continue to stare blankly at the empty space of wall above your dresser.

“Why don’t we go to my office? Lunch should be ready soon,” he tries again, far more patient than you’d ever expected a crime lord could be. 

“I'm not hungry.”

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out in a tone that’s so soft, you practically feel your heart clench at the unfairness of it all. 

“Just put it on a tray and slide it through the door,” you bite out, building your walls even higher with every sarcastic word. “May as well, since you insist on treating me like a prisoner.”

Across the room, the door shuts with a loud, forceful click, and your head whips over to it, alarms instinctually raised. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him stiffly leaning back against the closed door, his expression unreadable and hands clenched behind him. A part of you automatically panics that he’s going to get mad and turn this against you. But his promise rings in the back of your mind. 

“You truly think of yourself as a prisoner?” he asks, voice tender but thankfully filled more with frustration than anger. 

You sigh, immediately backtracking. 

Perhaps you were too harsh. He’s only trying to help. 

Elbows digging into your thighs, you allow your head to drop into your hands in defeat. 

“I just feel like you don’t trust me, Sil,” you tell him. (He shouldn’t, but that’s besides the point.)

Silco traipses over to you, carefully kneeling down between your legs as one hand links with yours, the other resting soothingly on the top of your thigh. Now face to face, he searches your expression. 

“Why won’t you let me do anything by myself?” you continue before he can suggest anything that will make you want to knee him in the stomach. "I don't understand what I've done wrong."

"You haven't done anything wrong, my love," he says, the fingers on your thigh squeezing gently. 

“Then why won’t you let me do anything anymore?”

You’re toeing the line of pleading, but won’t allow yourself to cross it. Not this time. 

He sighs and shuffles closer, strong arms wrapping around your waist until you can rest your forehead on his shoulder, a dance that almost feels natural at this point. 

“To keep you s-”

You cut him off by digging your nails into his lower back. 

“Silco. If you tell me one more time that you’re doing it to keep me safe, I’m going to spray perfume in your eye while you’re sleeping.”

He huffs a breath of air, pulling back ever so slightly to peer at you down his nose. His expression is entirely too cheeky and it makes you wonder just what ridiculous thought he’s entertaining.

“Your perfume or mine?” he asks playfully. 

You glare at him, clearly unamused by his antics, so he decides to clarify with a languid sweep of his hand up and down your spine. 

“I wouldn’t necessarily object to being reminded of your gorgeous scent every once in a while, even if it may bring some slight discomfort.”

The rolling of your eyes is accompanied by a muttering of freak under your breath, which only serves to bring out that crooked grin of his, much to your dismay. 

Silco reaches up to tuck a stray section of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers rest delicately on your cheek as he looks into your eyes, expression suddenly grave. 

“I’m afraid I cannot let you wander about by yourself, my love, not after you were put in such an egregious amount of danger,” he tells you solemnly.

You have to physically hold in the bark of laughter that threatens to erupt from you. 

Egregious amount of danger? Did he even grow up in the same Zaun as you? 

It’s probably not the best course of action, but you can’t help your response. 

“Then, I’m afraid I can’t join you for lunch or dinner anymore,” you bite back, a little bit childishly if you’re being truly honest with yourself. 

Right on cue, Silco’s good eye narrows, his lip twitching in indignation as his hand drops once more to your thigh. 

“Darling, do you not think you’re being a tad unreasonable?” he asks, clearly trying to keep a lid on it. “Can I really be blamed for wanting to keep the ones I love close to me?”

You practically blanch at the gall. 

“I’m being unreasonable?” you gape at him. “You’re the one who’s trying to keep me locked up forever!”

“I am not trying to lock you up,” he snipes back before huffing out a sigh, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “All of this is for you, my darling. I brought you home from that wretched city and its people. I commissioned you a custom-built studio. I have spent hours upon hours ensuring your safety.”

You really could scream now. You never asked him to do any of this, never wanted this. 

Recognising that you’re about three seconds away from completely exploding, you try to remove yourself from the situation before you do something you’ll regret. 

“I’m not doing this-”

You push on his shoulders lightly, attempting to shuffle yourself backwards on the bed and decidedly away from him. 

Unfortunately, Silco tries to stop you.

“Sweetheart-”

One hand darts around to the small of your back whilst the other hooks underneath your knee, and in one smooth move, he pulls you towards him until you’re flush against him.

And your body floods with heat completely against your will, partly in awe of the pure strength needed to manoeuvre you so effortlessly, and partly because in doing so, the angle and position has pressed his broad chest and waistcoat buttons up against the most sensitive part of you. 

You jolt in surprise, a stuttered gasp escaping your mouth as your brain suddenly conjures the sordid image of your legs wrapped around his sinful waist, the look of shock he’s currently sporting twisted in your brain to fit an expression of pure ecstasy. 

And just as soon as it happened, it’s over. 

Silco immediately lets go, allowing you to shuffle back on the bed, but only far enough that you can hug your knees to your chest, as if it would hide your now racing heart and burning cheeks. 

“I-”

You cut him off before he can voice even one more word. You do not want to discuss it (and you’re already blaming it on the raised adrenaline levels from your argument).

“You said you want to keep your loved ones close to you but you let Jinx go wherever she wants.”

Luckily, Silco also appears to be amenable to moving on without acknowledging what just happened.

“Jinx grew up here, sweetheart,” he says after swallowing hard, hiding his unease about as well as you probably are. “She can handle herself.”

Well, you can’t really argue that point without revealing yourself to him, so you’re forced to accept defeat on that line of defence. 

A wave of exhaustion sweeps through you, legs dropping into a cross whilst your forehead drops into the hand propped up against your knee. 

It’s only in the silence that you realise just how heavily you’re both breathing. A cursory glance at the man still kneeling in front of you reveals just how torn he looks, and for some reason, it puts you on the verge of frustrated tears.

He clearly wants to comfort you. 

Slowly, a hand reaches out to rest gingerly against your knee, giving you plenty of time to reject him if you wanted to.

You don’t. 

In fact, against all better judgement, you press his hand firmer against your knee with your own fingers just to show him that it’s okay. 

“I know you don’t trust me,” you repeat softly.

And if he didn’t look heartbroken before, now, it’s practically radiating from him. 

“It’s not you that I lack trust in, darling, it’s everyone else.”

You sigh, flexing your fingers over the top of his. 

“I want to be more for you, Silco. But I just can’t like this. Not when I feel like a bird trapped in a cage,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster. 

That seems to do the trick, his hand flipping over to entwine his fingers with yours as the other reaches to absentmindedly tug your shirt collar back into place. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep the security for now, but I will… endeavour to find safe ways to help you feel less restricted,” Silco says gracefully. 

You try not to focus on the fact that you’re a million steps back and try to focus on the single step forward. As if this dance couldn’t get any more complicated. 

You achieved partial freedom before, you can get it again. 

“That would make me feel a lot better,” you say, hoping you sound grateful as you shakily climb onto your knees on the mattress. “Thank you.”

Arms encircling him, you feel the moment Silco relaxes in your hold, and you hate how much relief it brings you.

It’s quiet for a moment, the two of you lost in thought while Silco traces patterns on your back until he speaks over your shoulder, asking if you want to accompany him on one of his factory rounds, to see his ‘empire’.

Of course, there’s a list of rules and considerations he insists that he must put in place before you go, but in truth, you barely pay attention to it when you nod your assent. 

All you can think is that maybe there can be some compromise in this fucked-up situation you’ve found yourself in. Maybe this doesn’t have to be all bad. 

-

Almost a full week later, after Silco had meticulously planned out every single detail regarding this trip, you’re finally en route to the factory he’d chosen for your visit. 

Of course, one of the stipulations you’d agreed to whilst blissfully tuned out during Silco’s monologue was that you’d wear a face mask on your trip with him to the factory, one that obscured most of your features.

To protect you from the fumes, he’d said…

His levels of delusion are genuinely astounding at this point. Honestly, you should write a book about him, the real him. You could probably fix Zaun’s economy solely with descriptions of his insanity. 

You’re still fiddling with the edges of the mask by the time the carriage arrives at the large building, drawing to a stop in the darkened alleyway. 

Silco immediately exits the car without a word, and it’s his hand that is waiting to help you out and to swiftly escort you into the monstrosity that is one of his many Shimmer factories. 

At first, you’re not entirely sure how you feel about it all. 

Obviously, the conditions aren’t great. It’s hot, and noisy, and all the oversized pipes, vats, and crates filled with vials of Shimmer make the whole place feel far more cramped than it probably is. It’s like walking into the belly of the beast. 

But then again, you’d struggle to find a job in Zaun that was luxurious or even particularly nice, for that matter.

Silco meanders across the main floor with your hand tucked closely into the crook of his elbow, overseeing the nervous workers who scuttle about completing their jobs, all whilst trying to avoid eye contact with their stoic employer. 

Honestly, you’re unsure why he even suggested bringing you here, given that there’s nothing to really look at and you’re pretty sure half of his working policies aren’t even legal. 

That is, you’re unsure up until he begins yet another monologue. Except this time, you find yourself oddly captivated by his words.

He tells you in low, dulcet tones of his humble beginnings; how he started with nothing, much like the majority of Zaunites. He briefly describes the time he nearly lost his life as a young adult which prompted him to build all of this. How he plans to bring Zaun the independence and prosperity its people deserve, have always deserved. 

And by the time he’s finished speaking and has stopped for a moment to check in with one of the floor managers, you can’t help but stare at him, watching each careful movement and microexpression. 

Here is a man who’d had almost virtually the same start as you, who’d used every last shred of his resources to build himself an empire, all with the goal of elevating his city. 

Of seeking justice.

Silco returns to you after only a few minutes, where you instinctively reach to take hold of his arm again as he continues to walk. You let him lead. 

“Who will they think I am?” you ask when he offers you nothing more than a curious glance, nodding to the workers who keep shooting anxious glances at the both of you as you pass by. 

They definitely can’t see your face with the mask, but by your proximity to their boss, they must presume you’re somebody important.

“I suspect they’ll think you’re a potential business partner,” Silco responds diplomatically. To anyone else, he would appear just as impassive as ever. But you’re able to spot the twitch in his lips that tells you he’s holding back a smirk. 

You huff a short, sharp breath of air in amusement. 

“Do you have many of those?”

He finally comes to a stop at the bottom of a metal, spiral staircase, turning his head to glance down at you as he purses his lips. 

“None as beautiful as you.”

The roll of your eyes is thankfully covered by the mask. 

Now out of view from prying eyes, Silco delivers that smug little smirk he’s been holding back, almost as if he already knows your reaction, before elegantly gesturing with one sweep of his hand to allow you to climb the stairs before him.

And as you climb up and away from the toils of labour, you allow yourself to run away with the idea. 

If you’d met Silco in another life, one where’d you’d never conned your way into a privileged, Piltovian home, perhaps you could have worked your way into owning a large, successful business in Zaun. One that would have brought you into Silco’s world in an entirely different way.

You might’ve even been his equal, a chem-baron with almost as much power as the megalomaniac behind you. 

It’s this thought that inches you one step closer to the dangerous line you’ve been toeing, increases the pressure by just a notch. 

“I don’t think I’m entirely convinced that I should invest in this so-called business of yours anyway, Mr. Eye of Zaun,” you say coquettishly, adopting the air of an entrepreneur with unwavering confidence. 

“Well, that won’t do at all,” Silco drawls, clearly amused enough to entertain your antics. “What must I do to convince you otherwise?”

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re not facing him that propels you to push it just that little bit further, just a little bit flirtier. 

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh?” he intones, almost innocently. “Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts so I can… accommodate.”

The heat that’s rapidly spreading through you must be from the factory machines, the cramped conditions. It must be. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find a darkened corridor lined with what must be office doors and for some gods-forsaken reason, it sends a thrill down your spine. 

Turning to face him, you walk backwards a few steps, letting him catch up to you in that slow, smooth saunter. And without thinking, you reach up to undo your mask, letting it drop to the ground as you take in Silco’s heated gaze, catching the way the pupil of his seafoam eye dilates in hunger. 

You allow him to come to a stop in front of you, but he doesn’t stray any farther. He seems hesitant, almost like he’s waiting for your next move, so you carefully loop your arms up and around him, forearms resting on his shoulders, hands clasped at his nape. 

“Hmm, in that case,” you tilt your head to the side, a tap to his shoulder blade with every demand. “I’ll take your crown, and your throne, and all your precious little treasures.” 

Then, you can’t help but lean forward ever so slightly, looking directly into those devastating eyes as you whisper.

“I want it all.”

It’s like watching an eclipse, the rapid darkening of his gaze an abyss, as the hands you’ve watched choke out a man come to rest oh so lightly against your waist. 

“And what would you give in exchange?” Silco asks with a rough swallow. The bob of his throat is simply captivating. 

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he bites back, low growl a dichotomy to the gentle fingers tracing your sides. 

“Do I?”

Your attempt at coyness is met with a spine-tingling amount of conviction. Like he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. 

“I want you.”

Your legs guide him to slowly walk you backwards until your back hits the wood of the door behind you, your arms still looped around him whilst Silco’s hover nervously above your hips. 

He stares down at them, almost as if he desperately wants to but something is holding him back. 

His eyes dart up to yours in a brief look of trepidation, a question in his pointed gaze. So you nod once and resolutely ignore the voice screaming at you to just wait a minute, to stop playing with fire for just one moment. 

Silco’s hands finally press into your hips sending a jolt of fire racing up your spine. He stands between your spread legs, revelling in the proximity. 

“How much?” you ask. Silco only tilts his head in response, eyes distracted by the grip he has on your hips, so you grace him with clarification. “How much do you want me?”

That catches his attention, gaze snapping up to meet yours. 

And gods, you’re suddenly in need of air when Silco finally closes the distance, slowly leaning down to deliver his gravelly response directly against the shell of your ear.

“More than the body needs blood.”

Your hands instinctively reach up to thread into his hair, and Silco hips pitch forward into your own, a gasp escaping your lips at the joint sensation of his warm breath on your neck and the feeling of his arousal pressed firmly up against you. 

“Silco.”

“That’s sir to you,” he commands, scarred lips trailing down your jaw until they finally rest against your neck, pulse beating double time. 

Fuck, why can’t you think? Why can you only focus on the feeling of him pressed up against you?

“Yes, sir,” you repeat, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, in and out. 

He chuckles darkly against your skin as long fingers begin to slowly trail down your body, the other hand briefly snaking up into your hair, as if he just wanted to give it a short tug, just to see what it feels like.

You shiver bodily when that same hand travels back down to cup your jaw, his nose falling into place alongside yours, impossibly close now. 

Silco’s lips hover tantalisingly above yours, barely grazing them as he begins to speak again, tone low and rough. 

“Good g-”

He’s interrupted by an indignant voice from a little ways down the hall. 

“Excuse me.”

It’s like being startled awake - ripped from a dream - the way your body freezes in shock. 

Your hands drop to your sides as Silco inhales deeply, placing one hand flat against the wall next to your head. 

Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder with a deadly precision and you watch as the worker’s blood drains from his body. It must be his office door that you’re currently blocking and in the darkened corridor, he must not have recognised the back of his boss’ head. 

For a brief moment you worry that Silco is going to literally drain the blood from his body right in front of you, but to your relief, he simply issues a sharp, cold command.

“Go. Away.”

The poor man practically scrambles away without another word, his footsteps tapping back down the metal stairs at a, frankly, quite alarming pace. 

Alone once more, Silco twists back around to face you, seemingly content to continue where you’d left off if his fervid expression is anything to go by. 

But you gently stop him with a hand splayed on his chest. 

The moment is broken, and there’s one thought ringing through your brain over and over again - what the actual fuck are you doing?

“We should get back home,” you tell him, watching as disappointment floods his features. “The fumes are giving me a bit of a headache.”

He pauses, just for a moment, as if he’s considering a counter-argument, but instead he just nods, accepting your lie at face value. 

“Alright, my love,” he says, carefully taking your hand in his and pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles, not entirely dissimilar to the way he did when you were first brought to his office, all that time ago. 

Then, Silco wordlessly leads you through the winding maze of the factory and out to the carriage, where you begin the journey back home, the silence charged with something entirely different to the one you’d shared on the way there. 

-

It isn’t the first time Silco has laid flat out on your bed, legs crossed at the ankle with his hand linked atop his stomach. And it’s unlikely to be the last. 

He stares at the plaster on the ceiling above your bed, mentally replaying that delectable little gasp you’d made the moment he’d pushed himself up against you. 

For months now, all he’d craved was just a little taste. Just a little sample to tide him over. 

But now that he’d finally experienced the sensation of your lips grazing his, of your waist under his fingers, he wants more. He wants everything. 

And it was that everything he’d been imagining just minutes before in his shower, until he’d finished with one shaky hand on the tiles holding him up, head hung low, his panting breaths slowing down incrementally until he’d finally had the strength to turn off the water.

At first, he’d simply recalled the delectable feeling of your body pressed against his. Then, it had devolved into a sordid little fantasy of what could have happened. 

Perhaps one of you would have dropped to your knees right there and then. 

Or maybe you’d have dragged him through the office door you were blocking and he could have scratched the wooden floor beneath the desk and left a bouquet of bruises on your hips all in one go. 

It had all come to a crescendo quite soon after that particular image had graced his thoughts and once he’d dried and dressed, Silco had found himself wandering over to your bedroom before he was truly conscious of what he was doing. 

And now, as you bathe, completely unaware of his presence in the adjacent room, he lays on your bed and thinks. 

Of course, when he envisions you in the bath, some part of him naturally thinks of going for another round, this time surrounded by your heady scent, your clothes held against him. And if he were a younger man, he might’ve done just that, a race to finish before you discovered him. But now, he knows that his body is too tired to keep up with his overactive brain. 

Instead, Silco placates himself by turning his head to inhale deeply against your pillow. 

The fact of the matter is, he wants you. Badly. 

But he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you again or pushed you too far. 

Now that the bliss is beginning to fade, he realises that whilst it may be an incredibly arousing situation, he decidedly does not want your first time together to happen on a dusty old desk in one of his factories. 

He wants it to be absolutely perfect. And for that, he needs your full, unadulterated trust and love.

The sound of you rising from the bathwater next door jolts him from his daydream, and as the water rushing down the drain covers his swift exit from your bedroom, Silco shelves his fantasies for now and focuses his mind on the next problem to be solved. 

It’s only a matter of time now until he wins you over. He’s sure of it. 

-

a/n: hello everyone, i somehow managed to convince myself this was the worst story ever and had a whole-arse crisis about it, but we’re finally back on and i’m gonna continue to wrestle my demons in a boxing ring until this story is finished 🥊

Also, thank you so much to everyone who has left such lovely comments since i posted the previous chapter, I genuinely appreciate all of you so much <3 

[xinmin-exe]

Man I Am - Simon "Ghost" Riley

WARNINGS - creeps, swearing, threats of violence, alcohol, female reader, bad flirting, age gap (reader is early 20s, Simon is mid 30s), slightly tipsy reader (only unbalanced, nothing more), poorly written bar scenes, not proof read, Simon is probably OOC

Word count: 1301

I was, in fact, listening to "Man I Am" from the Barbie Movie while writing this

You had just turned 21 a couple months go and you and your friends wanted to go get drunk to celebrate passing a chemistry test. Your professor was an asshole who had one of the worst 'Rate my Professors' score you've ever seen. But you and your friends were somehow passing his class with a B+ so you felt like you earned a night of partying.

The night started out great. A couple rounds of shots, slow sipping on a drink and some dancing. It was wonderful. Until, this guy comes up with a couple of his friends and they are clearly drunk. They ask you and your friends to dance. While some of your friends are drunk enough to indulge the men, some aren't and politely decline their offer. You were sipping on a Long Island Iced Tea and you were getting tipsy but you held your alcohol well. But this one guy was just not taking "no" for an answer.

"C'mon baby, just one dance," the guy said while trying to put his hand on your waist. A poor attempt to pull you to him. You easily pushed his hand off and firmly said "No, I do not want to dance, now leave me alone." he huffed and walked away, but he kept staring at you. Like he was a predator, but in a bad way. You could feel his eyes on you and leaned over to your friends, saying that you guys should change bars because the vibes were off. Some of them wanted to stay, but some agreed that the vibes were off. So you made everyone who was staying share their locations with the others before telling them to be safe.

You and two other friends left the bar and opted to go to the one across the street. When you got into the new bar, you immediately felt so much better. You and your friends got some weaker drinks and went to go dance. Something that caught your eye was the group of men in the corner.

They all seemed like pure muscle and way out of your league. Based on the ones you could see clearly, they were all at least in their mid-30s. You kept glancing over at the one in the skull mask, but kept your glances quick. You guessed he was twice your age and kept dancing with your friends. Swaying and jumping around to the various pop artists on the speakers. But two things were unknown to you: 1. the man in the skull mask had noticed you as well. He was just as intrigued in you as you are in him, and 2. the creep from the last bar had followed you here.

Once the current song was over you heard "Man I Am" from the Barbie Movie come on and you nearly screamed in excitement. You and your friends wanted a round of shots so you offered to go get them. You walked up to the bar and patiently waited your turn.

"I'll be right with you!" the bartender said to you as she moved to make two beers for another person. While you waited you could feel someone standing too close behind you. You turned around to ask the person to backup a little but you let out a gasp instead. "Hi there sweetheart, why'd you leave me?" the creep asked as he grabbed your wrist. "I was just heartbroken," he said as his grip tightened.

"Please just leave me alone!" You shouted at him but he didn't budge. "alright love, what can I get for you?" the bartender asked. She took one look at you and the creep and somehow knew something was up. "A shot of the strongest you got," the creep said while keeping his eyes on you. You turned to the bartender with scared eyes and she knew.

"Can I see some I.D?" She asked him, He glared at her as he released your wrist, but shoved his knee in between your legs. He handed her his I.D and she began inspecting it. The creep groaned and yelled at her to hurry up. She told him she needed her manager to check his I.D because she thought it was a fake. She promised it would only take a moment and left. The creep turned back to you and his eyes began to trail your body and it made your skin crawl. He leaned in to smell you and you turned your head to the side in disgust and fear.

What you didn't see was that the group of men had taken notice of this whole interaction. The one with the skull mask decided he was done seeing you being harassed by some dick-less wonder. He set his drink down and stalked over to you. You heard one of his friends, with a heavy Scottish accent tell him to "go easy on the lad!" You couldn't help but look at him when you saw him walking your way.

Thankfully the creep hadn't noticed and suddenly, there was a 6'4 man made of pure muscle standing behind him.

"Let her go," the masked man's voice was low but it was commanding. The creep turned around and scoffed. "Who the hell are you?" the creep asked, but the masked man didn't answer. "Let her go and leave, before me and my mates throw you out," he threatened. The creep looked over to the direction of the other men and laughed, out loud in his face. "Grandpa, stay out of this before you get hurt," the creep told him casually before trying to turn his back.

But the masked man grabbed his forearm and twisted it behind his back. "I said to leave, so leave, before you get hurt." By now, the bartender and her manager had returned with the bouncers.

"Do we have a problem here gentlemen?" The manager asked, mainly looking at the creep. "No problem sir," the masked man let go of his arm and the creep let out a heavy breath. "Right?" He stared into the creep's soul and the creep nodded. "Right.. I was just leaving.." He said before stumbling his way out.

The masked man looked at you. He was silent before speaking. "You okay?" All you could do was nod as you felt intimidated by him. He stayed near you while the manager talked to you to ensure your safety and what they could do to help. The Manager had a printed out photo of the creep's I.D and stapled it to the wall of customers to throw out of the bar if they came back. The masked man offered to buy you a drink which you politely declined. He nodded and asked to at least let him walk with you back to your friend group. This you accepted; you were scared and frankly having him near you made you feel better.

Your friends rushed to you with worry as they began asking you if you were alright. They had all seen what had occurred after you were gone for a little too long for their liking. They elbowed you as they glanced at the masked man who escorted you back. You ignored their snickers and smirks as you turned to address the man.

"Thank you! I appreciated you rescuing me back there," You told him with a kind smile. His mask covered his face, but you could see the smile lines near his eyes. "You're welcome," he said to you. He turned to leave but before he did, he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to you and walking back to his group of friends.

It read "in case you need saving again, Ghost" with his number.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧ Woozi World :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ

Sometimes Jihoon zones out.

Fluff - woozi x reader

Based on my favorite Woozi Quirk™ (ft. some of my favorite pics of Woozi World)

AO3 link

Word Count: 642

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

A gentle melody played from the speaker as you sat on the white couch in the Universe Factory. You played a game on your phone and let the music sink into your mind, easily enjoying the new production made by your friend. Jihoon faced you in his desk chair with his eyes closed and head bobbing, lost in the melody. He wanted to gauge your reaction as his test audience, but he got distracted enjoying his own creation a little too much.

You had noticed this behavior in him before when he listened to music; you found it endearing how it seemed like the entire world would seemingly fall away to him, leaving him alone with the bars and measures. Music was often the catalyst for his little zone-out sessions, but sometimes he was lost in his own thoughts. In those moments, he would stare out into space with blank eyes and an expression stuck on his face. Sometimes he looked cutely and stupidly happy, and sometimes he looked lost and confused. During those moments, you would indulge a little bit in being able to look at him freely before pulling him back to reality. His little quirk only deepened the crush you had on him.

As you both sat in his studio and absorbed the new music, you watched as Jihoon floated into Woozi World bit by bit. His hands tapped out every beat which led to his head following the rhythm until he closed his eyes and hummed out possible melodies for the song it would soon become. You put your phone down and enjoyed the show a little longer before finally calling out to him.

"Hey," you started in a small voice trying to coax him slowly from his reverie. It didn't work. "Hello…” you trailed, “...Jihoon." You got a little closer to him and snapped your fingers in front of his closed eyes. All it seemed to do was create a new syncopation that he held onto with his tapping fingers which had him falling deeper into the song flooding his senses.

Frustrated, you cupped your hands around your mouth and half-shouted, "Earth to Woozi World! Don't leave me behind!"

With a sharp inhale through his nose, Jihoon opened his eyes wide and stared at you. You were smiling at him like you were going to start laughing at him. A blush washed across his face as he realized that he zoned-out again. He swiveled in his chair quickly to turn the volume down to a nice ambient sound that the two of you could talk over. When he faced you again, he couldn't quite meet your eyes.

You giggled and spoke first, "You let the song loop like five times."

"I'm sorry." Even in the blue and purple lights of the Factory, you could see the blush deepen in his cheeks.

"Don't apologize," you laughed out, reaching one hand for his knee, "The song was so good; I hardly even noticed."

He finally met your adoring gaze and smiled, calming down. “Tell me what you liked about it. I wanted to gauge your reaction.”

As you started the long list of praises you had about the work and comments on potential concepts and vibes for the piece, Jihoon had relaxed into his chair comfortably, looking completely calm. You tried to recreate some of the melodies with your own voice, only to be excited when you noticed the part playing softly in the background. Your input was precious to Jihoon; he watched and listened intently to all your ideas. His face stilled in a soft smile and his eyes were locked on the stars that sparkled in your eyes as you continued to talk about his music. He fell back into his own mind where the only things in his world that could ever exist were music and you.

[janeyseymour]

Leaving On a Jetplane

Summary: In order to become a pop sensation, you have to leave Melissa numerous times. It never gets easier. One day though, you won't have to leave her behind.

attached is my version of the song- and the songs that i mentioned that reader wrote are actually ones i wrote, so let me know if you want to hear them!

WC: ~4.9k

Music has always been such a big part of your life- you’ve been playing guitar since you were five. You started writing music at thirteen. Your songs could be about anything. And when you were twenty-one, you decided to head down to the local dive bar that you know almost always has live music. Somehow, by some grace of God, the owner of the dive bar took a liking to you. So, you’ve had a steady Thursday night gig there for a while now. The owner there is even able to connect you with a few other bars for nights that you can’t play at his bar due to other performers.

You’ve been doing it for quite some time now, and it always brings you a sense of peace. You stand up there with your guitar playing a mix of songs that you love to cover along with some pieces of your own sprinkled in. You never announce who the songs are by, and this time is no different.

You’re up on the small makeshift stage that the place has when you introduce a song that you had written during college about an old girlfriend when you spot her walking into the bar. She’s a beautiful redhead, hair curled perfectly and outfit hugging her in all the right places. She looks far too put together to be in the skanky dive bar that you’re in right now. But then again, so do you- dressed in your floral jumpsuit with the little high heeled wedges that you’re clad in. It’s far from the vibe of this bar. But you know what you like, and you stick to it. It usually helps draw in a crowd of horny bastards who will buy you drinks (that you can always get for free thanks to your sweet personality and connection with the owner) once you’re done with your set. Tonight though, you stumble through your introduction as you’re eyes follow that beautiful redhead.

“A-and this is a song about… uh, well… seeing someone from across the room and knowing that you’re going to end up with them… hopefully over a box of pizza one day,” you stutter out before strumming your ukulele a few times. 

You’re able to execute the song as you usually do- with flirty intonations and sweet smiles. Those looks are usually directed towards the men that you know will buy you a drink once you’re finished your set, but tonight they’re only directed at the redhead who has now found her way to the bar and is sipping on a Miller while listening to your sweet and soft voice. You can’t help but notice the way that her foot taps along to the beat, and a smile appears on her lips once she realizes that you’re only looking at her. Her eyes stay on you for the rest of your set. When you close, singing a song about how you want to get drunk and go dancing under the stars, you can’t help but notice the way that the woman licks her lips.

You step off the stage, and you’re immediately bombarded by a few of the men who you would consider to be regular fans of yours. You aren’t interested in the free drinks that you could get off of them tonight. No- instead, you sit down at the bar and order yourself a beer, hoping that the green eyed beauty would make her way over to you. 

She does, of course. She slides onto the barstool next to you with a soft smile as she sips her own beer. 

The woman glances at the Yuengling you ordered before waving the bartender over. “Put her drink on my tab.”

“Oh,” you blush. “You don’t have to do that.”

“A pretty girl deserves a drink,” she tells you. “Especially after she practically sang her entire set to me.”

You blush. “You noticed?”

“How could I not?” she chuckles back. “A gorgeous girl with the voice of an angel singing to me that she already fell and wants to get some pizza and then get drunk and go dancing under the stars? Yeah, I notice. You got a name.”

“I do,” you smile back easily. “Y/N.”

“Melissa.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night at the bar chattering about, and by the end of the night you have her number.

You stand on the street corner as you wait for an Uber back to your apartment. “So, tomorrow at six? I can pick you up after work to get some pizza,” you reference the first song you stumbled through to her.

“I would love that,” Melissa tells you.

Your Uber pulls up, and you daringly kiss her cheek before climbing in. You go to shut the door, but you’re stopped at the call of your name.

“Yeah?”

“Let me know when you make it to your place safely.”

“You do the same.” Your driver pulls off, and you watch as she starts to make her trek back to her own townhouse. 

Since that one night, you and Melissa have been seeing each other rather steadily. It’s been almost two years at this point, and you couldn’t be happier with the way that this relationship is progressing. The two of you are actually speaking of moving in together and starting your lives as a unit. You never thought that she would get to that level of commitment given her past, so you’re thrilled and eagerly agree when she’s the one to bring it up.

Having your income from being an aide at Abbott (of course, you’re your girlfriend’s aide) as well as Melissa’s income as the second grade teacher, and grade level leader for the school meant that instead of two separate and small apartments, you could upgrade to a nicer, bigger apartment- or a townhouse if you could find one in your budget.

You’ve been searching for places to live, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve found one that you absolutely adore. The two of you sign the forms in order to obtain ownership of the quaint little townhouse that you found in Queen Village before you head off to your own apartment with your girlfriend in tow to change into something a bit more appropriate to sing at the bar in. You sling your guitar over your own shoulder while Melissa takes your ukulele for you and sets it in its case- she carries that instrument to the bar for you.

While she mills about, you begin to set up the stage for your little set. The crowd that you attract is a steady one; most of the people that occupy the bar are your regulars, although there are always a few new faces. You sing your standard songs to show your range from broadway hits turned acoustic, all the way to the classics, and everything in between, and then finally back to your own original music.

The entire time that you sing, you feel eyes on you- what do you expect? You’re standing on the stage by yourself with just your strings and your voice as you pour your heart out onto the stage through song. But as opposed to the easy eyes that Melissa usually gives you and the smiles that your usual patrons have on their faces, there’s a woman and a man sitting in the back with rather… judgmental faces, lips quirked to one side and eyebrows furrowed as they whisper to each other while you sing. You clock them before turning back to your girlfriend and singing with the bright smile that you usually wear.

The final song that you sing is the one that you wrote in college, about how you have to make money, but you’ve never quite been the one to go out there in search of your real dreams- singing and writing music, releasing albums. Although you wrote it in a time where you were a struggling college student having a hard time even just putting dinner on the table and you’re now much better off, the lyrics resonate with you hard. You’re still trying to figure everything out in this crazy world that you’ve been thrown into. As you sing the last lyric, you look to Melissa, who nods. She silently assures you that you’re going to figure it all out together, she’s on your team now, and together you’ll be just fine. You thank everyone for coming out and to wish them a good night before heading off the stage- you’ll pack up later. Right now, you have a redhead to kiss. 

And you do. She tells you how wonderful you were today, just as she does after every stint that you do, and you smile into the kiss.

“You were so good tonight, amore,” Melissa tells you softly. “Like, you’re always great, but tonight was exceptional.”

“I don't know,” you shrug as you pull away from her. “There was this couple in the back staring at me, and they didn’t seem like they were enjoying it.”

“Well, fuck them,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You were phenomenal tonight.”

You give her a smile, but it isn’t one that quite reaches your eyes. Then, in your peripheral view you can see the couple that was staring at you with darker eyes than most start to make their way up to you. You straighten just slightly, and Melissa looks at you curiously. She jumps when she hears a voice directed at you.

“Y/N?” the woman taps you on the shoulder.

You turn just slightly to face her. “Yes?”

“Marina, and this is my husband Tyler,” she tells you as she sticks a hand out to shake. 

It turns out that the couple was a scouting agent, and the owner of the bar had invited them to come out to listen to you. When you turn to see Scott nodding along next to them, you give him a wide eyed look.

“Kid, I knew if I told you, you’d freeze. Am I wrong?” Scott asks.

“Well, I-”

“He ain’t wrong, mi amore,” Melissa chuckles as she kisses your cheek. “You would’ve been a nervous wreck.”

“Why do you think I told you to sing more of your originals?” the owner chuckles.

“Regardless,” the man tells you. “My wife and I are record producers, and ol’ Scotty here is a friend from the past. While we were in town, he told us we should come check you out. You got talent.”

You blush a furious shade of red. “Thank you.”

“We think you got what it takes,” Marina tells you. “How would you feel about coming out to LA to produce a record with us?”

As if your eyes weren’t already wide enough, they only continue to grow, and your eyebrows creep up your forehead. “What?”

“LA,” Tyler repeats. “As in… Los Angeles.”

You end up discussing with them while they’re out visiting, in the dimly lit bar during the lull of the day. You’re set to go out to the golden state at the end of the month, although they aren’t sure how long you’ll be out there. You’ve given them multiple demos and samples of songs you’ve written… they love them all.

Marina and Tyler are willing to put a great amount of time into you and your record- they know that you have what it takes to make it big. You have a wonderful personality, your heart is on your sleeve, your lyrics are relatable, and your melodies are absolutely stunning.

And so, with all of the unexpected expenses of you moving out to LA for the unforeseen future to create your dream, your plans to move all of your things out to your new townhouse are put on hold. Melissa understands- she’s thrilled for you, really. She isn’t necessarily thrilled that she’ll be out an aide and without her girlfriend at night, but this is what has to happen for you to attain your dreams. So, she goes along with it.

You hate that you have to be away from her for an extended amount of time- and right as everything was falling into place. You had asked Melissa if she really was okay with this all, and she assured you that you should follow your dreams. You promise her that you’ll call her every night, and if it gets to a point where it’s putting too much of a strain on your relationship you’ll fly back and forget about it. Your girlfriend tells you that that is absolutely ridiculous, and that the two of you will be just fine.

All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go. I’m standin' here outside your door. I hate to wake you up to say goodbye. But the dawn is breakin’, It's early morn. The taxi's waitin’. He's blowin' his horn. Already I'm so lonesome, I could die.

The night before you leave, you have to stay at your own apartment while she stays at hers. You hate waking up alone, but you suppose you should get used to it. You won’t have her body next to you for at least the next month. 

Come morning, your bags are packed and loaded into the taxi that’s taking you to the airport. You had already said goodbye to Melissa last night, but after some thought, you have the taxi take you to your girlfriend’s instead. You promise him that you’ll pay the fare that you run up while you say goodbye to your girlfriend one last time. He rolls his eyes but does oblige to your request- after all, it’s making him money.

As you pull up to her townhouse, you call her.

“Hello?” she answers groggily.

“Baby, I’m outside your door. I’m sorry I woke you so early, but… I just need to see you one last time.”

You can hear her tumble out of bed with a promise that she’ll be there quickly. Her arms are around you before you even hang up the phone.

“I thought you were supposed to be heading to the airport,” she whispers against your neck.

“The taxi’s right there,” you sigh softly. “But I was already lonely.”

“I’m sure you’re going to have a great time,” she assures you. “Marina and Tyler are going to take care of you, and I’m always just one phone call or text away.”

“It’s gonna be a lot different than seeing you all day everyday though,” you mumble.

She nods reluctantly. “But we’ll be just fine, and you’re going to get your dream.”

The taxi man blows his horn, signaling that you really should get going if you’re going to make it to the airport on time.

So kiss me and smile for me. Tell me that you’ll wait for me. Hold me like you’ll never let me go.

Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.

“You should really get going, mi amore,” Melissa whispers a bit tearfully. 

You nod with eyes full of sadness. She kisses you one more time before pulling away and smiling at you softly.

“You’re going to be just fine,” she promises you. “And I’ll be right here- waiting for you to come home.”

“I love you,” you mumble as you pull her in one more time. She holds you like she’s never going to let you go, but then the taxi’s blowing the horn again. So, your girlfriend releases you and sends you on your way before you lose your nerve.

There’s so many times I’ve let you down- so many times I’ve played around. I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing. Every place I go, I’ll think of you. Every song I sing, I’ll sing for you. When I come back, I’ll bring your wedding ring.

It’s been about two weeks since you’ve been out in Los Angeles without Melissa by your side. And honestly? You’ve been so incredibly busy with everything happening that you’ve hardly texted her, much less actually got to call her on the phone. You’re in the recording booth early in the morning, and you don’t stop working there until you have to head down to one of the bars that Marina and Tyler were able to get you in at. By the time you’re finished your sets, it’s nearly three in the morning for your girlfriend.

After many promised but missed calls, you finally have a moment to breathe. So you dial her. She doesn’t answer. A glance at your phone tells you why- it might be noon here, but it’s 3:00 back in Philadelphia- Melissa is definitely getting ready to see her students off for the rest of the day and can’t answer. You sigh and shoot her a text.

I’m sorry I’ve been so insanely busy lately that we’ve barely gotten to talk. I’m not trying to let you down or play around- and if you say the word and let me know that you want me to come home, I will. I miss you. I love you.

She doesn’t respond until much later, telling you that she understands and that this is everything that she expected it to be. 

You call her immediately, not caring that you should be warming up your voice for a night of singing and playing- you’ve been singing since seven this morning. You’ll be fine. And you can always tune up later.

“Hi mi amore,” your girlfriend’s low voice comes through. “I’m shocked you’re calling this late.”

Time change. “Shit. I’m sorry, hun. I won’t keep you.”

“No,” she protests immediately. “I miss you, so I’ll lose an hour of sleep for you.”

“So romantic,” you chuckle as you roll your eyes. “I miss you too, hun.”

“How has LA been?”

“Every place I go, I end up thinking about you in one way or another. Whether it be that I’m singing a song about you and for you, or if I’m at a bar I think you’ll like. I’ll see the kids getting out of school across the street from the studio… you’re always on my mind.”

“The kids here miss you,” Melissa sighs softly. “They keep asking when you’ll be back so I’m not as in much of a mood.”

“I can get on a flight right now,” you tell her seriously.

You can practically see her green eyes roll. “No. You’re doing what you want.”

“I did tell Marina and Tyler that if any sort of success comes out of this, the next record that I make has to be closer to Philly- that I will put it into my contract that I will be producing it from their studio in New York instead.”

Melissa just sighs softly. “That would be nice. How much longer do you think you’ll be there?”

“It should only be a couple more weeks,” you promise her. “And then I’m coming home to be with you.”

You don’t let it slip that while you’ve been here, you were able to find an absolutely stunning ring to propose to her with. It’s already packed away in your carry-on bag so you can ask her as soon as your home. If this experience taught you anything, it’s that you want to be with that redheaded beauty for the rest of your life.

You end up flying home that weekend, just to visit her- it’s been too long, and you need to see her again or you think you might die. When she picks you up at the airport, you immediately get down on one knee and propose. She says yes, and you slip that stunning ring that you found in LA on her finger. In return, when you get home, she heads into the bedroom and pulls out a ring that she had bought for you two days after you left for the west coast. 

But that weekend goes by too quickly, and she’s dropping you back off at the airport before she has to head back to Abbott.

So kiss me and smile for me. Tell me that you’ll wait for me. Hold me like you’ll never let me go.

Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.

“I love you,” you whisper, her forehead pressed against your own at the gate.

“I love you too,” she echos your sentiment just as quietly. “I’ll be waiting here for you in two weeks when you come home for good.”

“I know you will,” you mumble as you move to rest against her shoulder. You hold her like you’ll never let her go. And you won’t. Now that she has that stunning rock on her finger, and you have your beautiful diamond, she’s stuck with you.

“At least this time we know when you’ll be coming back,” she sighs quietly, stroking your hair.

“Yeah,” you concede. “But I hate that I have to leave you again… especially after we just got engaged.”

“But you’ll be back,” she smiles softly and kisses you one last time. “Now go, before you miss your flight.”

When Melissa enters Abbott that day, Barbara is, of course, the first to notice the new shiny rock on her finger.

“Oh, Melissa, did you finally pop the question?”

“Y/N actually did,” your now fiancée tells her work wife. “As soon as she got off the plane, she came running for me and got down on one knee.”

“That’s so wonderful. Congratulations.”

“What are we congratulating Schemmenti about?” Ava comes waltzing in behind the two of them at the coffee machine. “Get out of some legal trouble?”

“No,” Melissa smirks. “Actually…” she holds up her left hand and wiggles her fingers.

The principal grabs her hand and inspects the ring. “Damn, girl. That’s one big rock.”

As the rest of the group comes filing in, they too learn of the engagement. Congratulations are sung loud and high from some, while others resort to a simple, “Congratulations to you both.”

Throughout your day out in LA, you get texts from the Abbott group that you miss so dearly congratulating the two of you. Each time you answer one, you just send back a picture of your own ring. 

The two weeks that you spend apart from Melissa after getting engaged are practically torturous. But the day finally comes that you get to see her again, and you thank every star that you’re able to wrap her up in your arms and never let you go.

Now that you’re back to life in Philly, at least for the time being, you revert back to your old life. You enter the elementary school hand in hand with Melissa on Monday, and everyone is somewhat shocked to see you.

“What?” you ask as you sit down at your table, Melissa heading over to the coffee maker for the two of you. “Didn’t expect to see me back?”

“You went off to play rockstar,” Gregory tells you. “And we all know you have a hell of a talent, so yes. It’s a bit shocking to see you back.”

“Well,” you sigh. “My album won’t be released for another few months- we were just laying the tracks. So, for now, and probably for forever- because I’m not that great- I’m back to being here with you all.”

“We’re all happy that you’re back, dear,” Barbara tells you gently as she lays a hand over yours. “Now let me see that rock of yours before I explode!”

The studio has you release a single of yours before you release the entire album. You pick the upbeat song that you have written- you took notes from Taylor Swift. It may not be your favorite song on the album, most of them being soft ballads, but a pop hit will send you up the charts for your first single. And it does. Your song plays on a near loop on the radio. It gets to a point that if you and Melissa are driving and you hear it, you have to change the channel.

“Honey, don’t,” Melissa tries to bat your hand away, but you’ve already switched stations. “I like your song.”

“I heard it a billion times,” you sigh.

“But I like hearing your voice.”

“I’ll sing for you when we get home, okay? Just… not that song anymore,” you try to compromise.

“Can you sing the growing up song?” she requests softly. “The one about your dad?”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

And you do. When you get home, you grab your guitar and your ukulele and sing her the acoustic versions of your songs- not the done up ones that the studio had produced.

While you’re waiting for the rest of your album to come out, you and your fiancée find yourself deep in wedding planning. You also find that a townhouse close to the one that you almost closed on all those months ago is up for sale, and for much cheaper. You purchase it immediately, despite your worries. Melissa tells you that she has faith in you and your music, and you’ll be fine financially once your album comes out. 

When your album comes out, it’s an instant success. It comes as a bit of a shock to you- it’s rare anymore that newcomers to the industry have the levels of success that you’re experiencing right now. Various morning shows reach out to you, and you find yourself having to take a leave of absence from the school in order to travel and do interviews, talk shows, and performances. You only agree to do it if you can do them all in LA first, and then in New York before you return home to Philadelphia. You ensure that you do it in as short a time as possible- you have a wedding to plan. You make that very clear to Marina and Tyler. Yours and Melissa’s students are sad to see you go, but they know that you have to do it. They’ve heard your songs on the radio- they now know the talent that their classroom aide possesses. 

Now the time has come to leave you. One more time, let me kiss you. Then close your eyes, and I’ll be on my way. Dream about the days to come when I won’t have to leave alone- about the times I won’t have to say, Kiss me and smile for me. Tell me that you’ll wait for me. Hold me like you’ll never let me go.

The day that you fly out to LA once again is one that you aren’t necessarily thrilled about. You wish that you could take Melissa with you. This would all be so much easier to cope with- the fears of flying, the being thrown into the eyes of the media without much prep, the imposter syndrome- if your fiancée was there with you. 

You promise her today that you’ll be fine taking an Uber to the airport instead of her waking up ridiculously early on a weekend to take you. Begrudgingly, she agrees; her kids have been running circles around her lately. She does make you promise that you’ll wake her to see you off before heading back to bed. You nod with a smile.

As you watch her sleep, for just a few seconds before you have to wake her, your heart breaks. All you want to do is stay with her. But you can’t, because you have to promote all of your music if you want to have a shot at bringing in the big bucks.

“Honey,” you shake her shoulder gently. She groans but does peel her eyes open to look at you. “I have to leave.”

She nods, eyes still half open. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper as you lean down to kiss her. “Now go back to sleep. Dream about when I won’t have to leave you here anymore, and you can come travel with me.”

“I will,” she sighs softly. “But know that I’ll always be waiting here for you to come home.”

“I know,” you respond quietly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back this time, but I already can’t wait to come back to you. I hate leaving you.”

“Just think…” your fiancée smiles at you sleepily. “We’ll be married in a few months, and then it’s just us against the world.”

“It already is us against the world,” you tell her as you stroke her cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah,” she chuckles lowly. “But then at least in interviews you can refer to me as your wife.”

“I can’t wait for that day,” you sigh dreamily. You glance at the clock. “Okay, I really have to get going. The Uber is going to be here any second.”

Melissa leans up to give you one last kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.

Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[definitelynotaqueen]

I’m out with friends, nowhere fancy, just a local bar with good vibes. I notice you straight away. Holding court at the pool table. An easy grin on your face as you sink another shot. You have an aura around you. From your deep dark eyes to the soles of your boots. I can tell I want to be near you. My body hums just taking you in.

We’ve settled in and drinks are flowing. After a while they call my name and I take to the tiny stage. I love to sing. With a mic in my hand I can take on the world. I know every word and for a brief few minutes all eyes are on me. There’s an instrumental and I take in some air and check out the room.

It’s then I see you’ve stopped your game and are instead leaning against the table, one foot crossed in front of the other. The cue previously in your hand temporarily replaced with a drink as you size me up and down. I know what you’re thinking.

You’re looking at my boots. My skirt. Eyes definitely in my cleavage. You cock your head to the side as you take in my stockings and wonder what kind of girl wears stockings to a place like this. If you play your cards right you just might find out.

The song continues and I finish the last chorus with your eyes on me. I hold your gaze to the very last note and you nod at me and smirk at the lyrics. The typical polite applause rings out across the bar as they queue up the next song. I look across to my table to see my friends engrossed in conversation. Evidently they weren’t watching me sing. My smile drops a little and I falter coming down the wooden stairs.

I feel your warmth before I see you and hear a voice in my ear that makes me tingle all over. One hand on the small of my back to guide me safely down the stairs as the other appears in front of mine, open, ready for me to take.

‘They missed a good show’, you say. I can feel the blush spreading across my cheeks as I turn to face you. I’m captivated by your eyes. So deep and dark and soulful. I know I could get lost in them for hours.

I take your hand and immediately feel tingles all over. You chuckle and I realise with your hand on my back you must have felt it in your fingertips.

Mortified I try to pull my hand back and turn away from you but you pull me closer. I shake my head and stammer ‘I’m sorry. I just haven’t had….it’s been a while since…I don’t usually….never mind.’

‘How bout we move somewhere a little less public and you try that again honey. I’m happy to give the folks a show but I’d prefer it be something more entertaining. Plus I don’t want anyone else to see that blush.’

My jaw hits the floor as you lead me to an empty table in a quiet corner. I’ve never done this before but I know I want to. I came here with friends but right now I can’t think of anyone else but you. I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing or embarrass myself with you but at this moment there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Scared or not, being the object of your gaze, your hands on my skin is all I want.

**I started writing this a week ago and it was supposed to be shorter but I got carried away and now it’s looking too long.

Should I finish it or?

[defibrillation-and-lactation]

Heyo everybody! Here’s a resus story I finished today just in time for summer vibes. Nothing too dark, but there is a drowning involved. I hope you all enjoy!

The Beach Rescue

It was a clear mid-afternoon in late August. Summer was still in full effect. The sun shone down, peaking at a blistering 107 degrees. Palm trees all along the shore line were gently swaying. There were less people here today than usual, but the place was still bustling with crowds scattered about. Many could be seen in lines, waiting for their favorite hot spot to let them in. At least a hundred people could be seen walking along the boardwalk, with more shopping inside the little storefronts. Bags, bottles, coolers and towels of every color could be seen all across the shore, with people all enjoying themselves in their own way. It was a bright, beautiful day here at Venice Beach.

Here I was, a lifeguard, sitting quietly atop my tower as usual. My tower was one of the only towers that were taller than the rest. I was one of the few higher-up lifeguards working here, despite being relatively young with less years than the other high-ranking staff. You could say I had a seagull eye’s view of things going on around the beach. I could see farther towards the waters, where the surfers liked to surf and do cool tricks, while still being able to monitor the shore and what was close around me very well.

Out in the middle of the beach, one person had caught my eye. A woman walked out onto the sand. She was wearing a gold string bikini. She laid out a warm gray towel on the sand, dropping her dark magenta purse on it. Her figure along with her shiny gold attire glistened in the sunlight. She had light, but defined curves, making her a standout at the beach. She confidently walked closer towards the waters. I could tell she was a little inebriated. Her carefree expression and some of her footsteps told me she probably had a couple drinks at one of the bars or food places here. She had a bit of musical pep in her step, with her bigger assets bouncing along with her stride. She was definitely the highlight at the beach today.

I zoomed out with my binoculars. I'd probably best look elsewhere before I get completely distracted. At least the beach had been relatively free of incidents this summer. I think only two had happened last month that I knew of, and those were pretty minor incidents. A couple of guys were fighting over a space at Muscle Beach. Law enforcement were able to break them up and remove them. The other incident involved a girl that broke her leg at the skatepark. Fortunately, we were able to move her to a hospital pretty quickly. Things might get tense between people sometimes at random times, but usually they get sorted themselves or law enforcement puts a stop to it eventually. It has definitely been more peaceful than previous summers. Even last year felt pretty hectic and was also very tragic. I was grateful for this peace.

As soon as these thoughts left my head, a series of screams could be heard in the distance. They were coming from the water in my direction. I brought my binoculars up and started scanning in towards the waters. I zoomed in as far as I could. I could barely see anyone around who was struggling until I got farther out, and there she was. To my surprise, it was the same woman I saw several moments ago. I could see her hands flailing above the water, as well as the top of her head peeking out. I didn’t think she would go in the waters, let alone that far without a surfboard. What was she doing? Was she that drunk?

I then swung into action just like that. My binoculars dropped down. I quickly slid down the ladder of my tower and grabbed my medical bag. I sprinted towards the water as fast as I could. Halfway towards the water, I spread out a white beach towel and threw it on the ground behind me. Likewise, I also dropped my medical bag next to it, sprinting faster now that the weight of my equipment was gone. I then noticed a loose crowd of people, beginning to form around me on both sides. They were all watching me respond to the emergency unfolding ahead of me.

As I quickly approached the waters, I slipped on my diving goggles. As my feet touched the water, my pace slowed a fair bit, but I still stepped on as fast as I could. I scanned the area around me, but nobody could be seen above water. As the water started reaching up to my waist, I decided to try searching underwater. I then promptly took the plunge, sticking myself under the sea. Within seconds, my vision cleared up and I could now see what was in front of me. Initially, everything was pretty dark and I could barely see anything, but then I found her. The sunlight shone down on a huge rock, and the girl was there, sprawled out lying on the rock. Her shiny swimwear reflected the sun’s rays. As my eyes focused on her, I felt the air inside running out rapidly. I quickly swam to the top, prepping myself to extract this girl. As my head peeped above the water, I began gasping for air. I closed my eyes, shielding myself from the bright sunlight. I Then took one deep breath for myself, and rushed back underwater. I started speed swimming back to the situation at hand, the light of the sun guiding me there. I approached the woman from behind, and grabbed her, crossing her arms with mine. As I secured her with my arms, I began to propel myself back up. With all my strength I would bring her close to the shore. As soon as I felt my heels contact the wet sand, I turned around, positioning the girl sideways in front of me, where we faced the rising shore. As my feet fully grasped the sand, my arms and the girl were just above water. I then moved my arms to carry her by her legs and back.

Both of us surfaced from the water, with me holding the woman in a princess carry. The brightness of the sun caused my eyes to squint slightly. As I felt the wet sand become dry below me, my stamina started to take a hit, but I knew I could still go farther. I ran back as fast as I possibly could. I noticed the number of eyes on us had slightly increased. It really must have been a slow day here. There is usually not a big group that looks up at me when I perform a rescue like this. As I got closer to my marked area, My legs started to burn and feel like jelly. I knew there was not much left to go. As I saw my towel come within my reach, I slowed my step, and dropped a knee. I hastily, but gently lowered the girl onto my fresh, clean towel. I am not a very superstitious person, but I always keep a fresh, unused towel. I do not like the idea of rescuing someone on a towel that someone else drowned and possibly died on, since I feel it invites death so easily in these scenarios. Likewise, I never wash the towels and I often burn them at night too, so that no one becomes accursed from reusing them down the line.

With that being said, I get back to the task at hand. I raised my goggles up, and put my left hand behind her head, and tried pushing some water from her mouth with my right hand. A good amount of water spilled out from her mouth, but I know there’s some still inside her. I then check her neck and wrists for a pulse with my right hand, while I quickly unzip my medical bag. I give the bag a little jostle, letting a small bottle, some scissors and an ambu bag fall out. As I let the last items fall out, I notice nothing coming from the girl’s pulse points. It was then that I had to start working on her.

Both of my hands came together naturally and intertwined above the woman. I promptly lowered my hands down and gave her a quick pump to gauge the feeling for how hard I needed to press down. Then, I start counting up from one in my head, with the numbers exiting my mouth in a quiet mutter. I keep a steady pace, pumping her chest firmly. The compressions feel rather stiff and more difficult than usual. I then realize this girl’s bikini is still on and is hugging her tightly. As I finished this first round of compressions, I instinctively reached for the scissors on the sand. I had absolutely no regard for her modesty, because I had absolutely full regard for her life. I went immediately for her dazzling top, snipping her shoulder strings like nothing. A light jiggle of her chest was observed as her bikini began to snap in front of me. Next, I took a careful snip of the string at the middle point of her chest, cutting fast and precisely in the middle. As I clipped the middle string, the snap caused the two cups of her bikini to fly out majestically to her left and right side. Her breasts became completely exposed in a flash, wobbling heavily upon their release. Tens of people around us had their faces turn agape at the sight of modesty’s death. However, this woman here certainly was not dead, at least not yet.

With her breasts parted away from each other, I could now do my job much easier. My hands affixed together again and resumed compressions. I could confidently press harder and better now. Each pump made her breasts jiggle against the sides of my hands. I pumped a bit faster, trying to make up for lost time, which made sense in my brain, anyway. I almost sped up too fast to thirty. I also felt a bit stronger now after the intermittent break I had removing this woman’s top. After my second round of CPR, I reached for the ambu bag on the ground. I positioned the woman’s head straight up, putting the mouthpiece on her. I gave her a breath of fresh air, watching her torso expand and deflate. I gave her a second breath, pressing my stethoscope to her chest at the same time. I then heard a few strange sounding beats from her. I decided it was time to power on my defibrillator.

My co-workers prefer to use AEDs, saying that they are more convenient and easy out on the field. Personally, I can’t stand using them at the beach. I don’t have the ability to control the energy level and those stupid pads never stay secured on wet skin. I like my manual defibrillator because I am in control the whole time. It may be a bit heavier, but it is so much more reliable. So, I took the bottle next to me and I grabbed the paddles from the bag. I squirted a little conductive gel onto each paddle and gave them a good ol’ rub. I set the energy dial to 100 joules and let it charge. I announced to the world my intentions to shock this woman and went forward with it. I placed the paddles on her chest, one above her chest and one below her chest. I perched my thumbs over the discharge buttons, and pumped 100 joules into the dying woman. Her torso and arms twitched slightly, but nothing happened after. Sudden gasps could be heard from all across the crowd. I charged the unit again, pressing the buttons soon after again. Another twitch, but no response. Another flood of gasps, and then dead silence. I checked her again with my stethoscope, but this time I heard nothing. Nothing at all. Silent as the crowd. It was time to do compressions again.

I crossed my hands and started pumping away on her again. Her lifeless body moved with each push. Her head had slumped to the side from repeated movements and stayed there. Her overall body was getting noticeably more pale. More and more water was slowly seeping out of her airway and onto the towel. My arms were progressively pouncing harder and harder on her. Before I knew it, another round of compressions was completed. I switched over to the ambu bag and gave her another puff. Her stomach rising and descending at my will. I put my stethoscope back onto her, and surprisingly I hear a weak, but erratic beating in her chest. I dropped the bag and grabbed the defibrillator paddles again.

I turned the energy dial further to the right, setting it to 200 joules. I grabbed the bottle of gel again and rubbed another coat on the paddles. I cleared the area once again to try again. Quickly I put the paddles between her breasts and on her left side. I mashed the shock buttons and watched as she jumped about an inch and fell back down. No change at all. I charge the paddles again, quickly dumping another dose of electricity into her heart. I lower my stethoscope onto her again, and it’s just silence. Complete and utter silence. I was starting to lose hope on this lady. I really was, but there were too many people around me to just quit on them now. I had to show them at least an effortful performance.

With some doubt in my mind, I started another cycle of CPR. This time, I pressed on as well as I possibly could. The lady’s whole body was now.reacting to my compressions. Her breasts were steadily bouncing into my rhythmic, hammering hands. I could see her face beginning to start bluing. I didn’t have much time left, so I kept going, with my hands starting to tire out. Just another round and that was it. That was all I could take right now on this burning day. The bluish purple was just beginning to creep in. As I finished another thirtieth compression, I nabbed the ambu bag once more and gave her a pump of air. As the air wooshed into her lungs, I thought I heard sirens. Perhaps someone called an ambulance to the beach. I guess that would be a good idea no matter what happens. I then placed my stethoscope back onto her chest with no expectation once again. A quick listen revealed a struggling, quivering pulse. She really was a fighter, wasn’t she? At least she wasn’t turning any more blurple.

I couldn’t argue with a fibrillating heart, so I grabbed the paddles once again. This time I cranked the dial to 300 joules. I squeezed another dollop of gel on the paddles and made another conductive layer. I told everyone to stay away, urgently. I smacked the paddles onto her frail, but endowed chest, putting the paddles above her left breast and below her right breast. I pushed the buttons on the paddles to shock her again and sent 300 joules directly to her heart. Her reaction was much more pronounced, rising an impressive few inches and crashing back down. Still no response at all after that shock. Charging up again, I then hear the people’s reaction of shock as I shocked her myself again. Her whole body seized as she immediately rose into the air, her attractive body wiggling rather sensually as she hit the sand once more. I grabbed my stethoscope, fully expecting the absence of sound or life to be heard. To my complete surprise, Her heart was beating very strongly. She was still massively arrhythmic, so one more zap couldn’t hurt this situation.

I looked back at the defibrillator real fast. In my raging vortex of a mind, struggling to choose how much energy to hit her with, I just dimed it. 400 joules and charging. The sirens I had heard earlier were quickly getting louder. I ordered everyone to stand back before I zapped her. The whine of the capacitors were the loudest I’ve ever heard them, even in this loud environment. Once the area was clear, I slammed the paddles into the sides of her breasts and jammed in the buttons to shock her, unleashing a full 400 joules through her chest. Almost instantly her whole torso jumped up nearly a foot into the air. All four limbs jerked fiercely and twitched. Her back arched violently with a stunning angle. It felt like I introduced an otherworldly force to her body with the way she reacted so wildly. As she reached her peak in the air, her eyes shot open. A rough, raspy gasp escaped from her lungs as she went on her way down. Her body fell and impacted the sand hard. The impact caused her body to bounce back up and down momentarily like a bouncy ball. Her hair danced and sprawled evenly beneath her. Her breasts bounced and wobbled with tremendous, erotic might. Her thighs also jiggled with dazzling rippling waves. She briefly choked, coughing out the last of the water in her airways. She finally came back from the verge of passing. It had to be the shining miracle of today. She was certainly meant to spring back to life.

Swiftly, I nestled my hand behind her and cradled her head. She then started rapidly gasping for air. I gave her heart another listen and felt her heart beat speedily, but very flawlessly. I asked her if she felt alright, but before she could respond, paramedics were approaching with a gurney. I helped by lifting her up onto the gurney. I gave them a quick brief on what had just occurred and what I did. I witnessed her drowning, extracted her from the waters, and successfully resuscitated her. Before I let them go, I reassured the woman that she would be fine, whispering words of encouragement and praise of her fighting prowess to her. I don’t know if she got the full message, as her body was undoubtedly aching from the trauma. I then watched the paramedics roll her away into the ambulance, most likely never to be seen again.

As the scene deescalated, the crowd dispersed and diminished. The other lifeguards congratulated me on my rescue. I guess I should feel good about that outcome, but something kept me from basking in the glory of that rescue. I guess I kind of got attached to that woman on the beach. Her beauty was exceptionally captivating. Her face, her figure, her luscious hair, and that sparkling bikini she just rocked. The way that she didn’t give out after a couple grueling cycles of resuscitation. Even on the brink of death, she emerged more powerful. She was a marvelous, tough, young girl. I wanted to know if she’d be okay. I wonder if I’ll ever see or hear of her again.

As the day wrapped up, I cleaned my equipment, with no other incidents happening in the evening. I set up a bonfire near the boardwalk, next to my tower. I tossed the towel I saved the woman with, into the bonfire, setting some firewood some people had generously donated for the beach on top of it. I lit the towel up with my lighter and watched the fire spread quickly. Me, the lifeguards and some other people around us got food and returned back to the now full burning bonfire. With a kebab of marshmallows in one hand, and a cantarito in the other, I called a toast. A cheers to all here today, for a long lasting prosperity and a happy life. I took a deep sip, thinking about the woman again, wishing she would be of good health, and continue to do great in this world. I roasted my marshmallows with the radiant warmth of the fire, thinking of her roaring desire to stay alive.

May she be well.

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part ii | ellie w.

previous part here | next part here soon

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but it will start evolving after this one seriously trust me!

WORD COUNT: 632

ellie. you tasted her name on your tongue and melted into the feeling, flushed. dina had certainly manifested her wishes into fruition, you thought. stared at the girl for way too long, getting familiar with her features and vacant gaze towards the alcohol filled shelves against the main bar wall, freckles like starry war paint, eyebrow scar, pale green iris, peach pink lips, auburn hair gently brushing her shoulder at length. breathtaking, you immediately named the feeling, but she looked worn, tossed around. you blamed it on the bruised eye, caught onto sky grey vibes.

a silly game blossomed into your heart years ago, the inspiration for your flower shop really: how everyone you meet could be described by the floral language. dina thought hers too common, but it was your favorite, a daisy, standing for loyal love and “i’ll never tell”. jesse, a white jasmin, sweet love, amiability. even abby, coriander. you did not know the girl at all, but you saw red carnations grow behind her in the way spiritualists would claim to see auras. red carnations; “my heart aches”.

“flower shop girl, yes, that’d be me”

“cute” she mumbled sipping on the beer dina had given her before promptly pretending to be busy elsewhere though noticebly eavesdropping.

“you’ve got a lot of tattoos on you” jesse pointed matter of factly, earning a chuckle “perks of the job?”

“the job” ellie repeated his words in light humor as if minimizing her own career with the sound “yeah, i guess. you want one?”

“fuck, yeah! maybe a dragon up my back or or you know a snake, i don’t know, what do you usually draw?”

“pretty things” she answered before taking you off guard with a head movement that pointed you out amongst them all “like her” she twisted her body around to meet your face “what would you get, flower girl? roses?”

“the sun” you answered “what does that say about me?”

ellie smiled a weak smile, raising the sleeve of her grey t-shirt to expose a beaming sun by her bicep, detailed sad expression in black ink across its center. you took notice of everything. ferns and a moth grew from her hand to the very end of her forearm and covered scars you could only assume to have been self inflicted. a sword pierced through the spare space of skin next to a phoenix and finally angel wings alongside a well hidden initial: J. you wouldn’t ask, but you wanted to.

“trying to figure that out myself”

you hadn’t noticed when abby left, only that she was gone when a couple dollars slipped past you towards the ground from the countertops, extra tips for dina. you wanted her extroverted ways to carry the conversation, ask the newcomer about the altercation, but she seemed to enjoy playing dutiful dedicated owner more. small talk failed you, and ellie was uninterested.

you planned out your next meeting in your head, showing up with cookies as they do in the movies, catching glimpses of her sketches on the wall, giving them backstories to fill the gaps. it wasn’t so strange to be eager as you were taking into consideration how rare these opportunities had presented themselves: you never left jackson, not even on vacation. the world was meant to turn on its axis but you were destined to stay still, an agoraphobia rooted into your veins like movement would burst your chest open, bloody and broken. the flowers had been a therapist’s idea: to take care of something innocent as a purpose, exist outside the shell of a body you painfully cared for in pure obligation. your personal garden arsenal though, had meaning. yellow tulips, that’s what you were. the flower for unrequited love. the one tattooed by ellie’s hipbone you were yet to see.

[cookiesupplier]

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Ten

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology.

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Unbetaed.. Enjoy!

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @blackveilomens

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

Sitting and having breakfast with Ishtar felt like a dream come true, and if it was a dream, Folio didn’t want to wake up, not even for a second. Usually, he went right from his apartment across the street, to the café which was just perfect for him, grabbed his breakfast wraps, hopped on his bike, and was off on his way to the building where the office was for work. No fuss, no muss in the mornings. It was just great for him, since he wasn’t the best morning person. However, instead, he stayed with Ishtar for a little while, how could he resist now that he had her right in front of him, they were talking, and not over drinks at the bar either.. Folio figured that Jolly and Ellie had the list of souls this morning in hand until he got there, usually, they did when one of them was missing. Sure, they worked together, but they made it work when one couldn’t always be there. However, when one of them wasn’t, they felt the difference.

The whole week that Ellie hadn’t been there after the bomb had dropped about her death, it was like the vibe, the air had changed. That was when Folio realised they couldn’t just go back to just him and Jolly. Dude, he loved the guy, and he loved working with him, hanging out with him in the office, he was one of his best friends, but their groups, all of them together, it was everything. Folio could only hope that Ishtar became just as important to them all as Ellie had become to the group with Noah. 

Now, Folio was pulling up his motorbike outside and racing into the office, all excited,

“Guyyss guys guys guys, you will never guess how my morning went?”

He grinned so brightly at Ellie and Jolly as they were sitting at one of the computers with gaming controllers in their hands, blinking slightly towards him as if they were just shocked at the sight of him.

“Well, looked at what the cat dragged in, almost thought you were still sulking after Ellie tricked you into that extra strength shake yesterday.”

Jolly smirked a little as he glanced back down to the screen and whatever game they were playing, Folio guessing that it had probably been a slow morning if they had settled in to take the time to play something. Ellie, however, was looking at him closer,

“Folio, what happened to your nose?”

His nose?

Folio reached up and touched it on reflex without even thinking, that was a mistake in hindsight with the instant sting of pain that went through his face the moment he did. Oh, ow. Okay, so it seemed it was still a little tender if he touched it, but otherwise, he didn’t even notice anything was amiss with it.

“Still a little bruised, huh, thought it would be fine by now.”

That got Jolly’s attention again, looking back up from the screen with a frown towards him, even though it was Ellie who continued voicing her concern first.

“How did you- Folio, what did you do to your nose?!”

Oh boy, this was going to sound bad..

“Would you believe that I walked into a door?”

Cringing slightly, both of their replies coming at him without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Yes.” Jolly, of course.

“No.” Ellie, bless her.

Folio smiled at the fact that Ellie had that much faith in him, wrong but, hey, she had faith that she wouldn’t have done it at least! He turned around and poked his tongue out at Jolly for saying he would believe him. Folio never claimed to be the mature one here.

“Technically, technically, I did walk into the door, but also, Ishtar kind of also banged it into my face.. by accident!”

He exclaimed quickly at the end because there was no way he didn’t know exactly how that sounded! Ishtar breaking his nose, or close to at least, sounded absolutely horrible and did not bode well for him dating her. When in actuality he had sort of got a breakfast date with her now hadn’t he? Smiling at the thought of how they had sat and had breakfast together, sitting and talking had been the best feeling in the world. Just them, Ishtar not having to disappear to serve other people drinks, or dealing with idiots flirting with her with stupid pickup lines.. Just Folio’s stupid jokes over their wraps and coffees. Hell, before he had to leave for work, he asked her if she’d like to go to lunch with him tomorrow after work, and she agreed! Even gave him her number so he could let her know where to meet him tomorrow. He was so excited, he wanted it to be tomorrow already, but it wasn’t, and he had to be patient. 

Folio was dragged back from his thoughts by laughter. Jolly, Jolly was laughing at him, and he had to roll his eyes, could he really be surprised, of course, he was laughing at him. If he was honest, Folio would be laughing at him too if he was on the other side. Hearing what he had just heard, the love of his life almost breaking his nose by slamming a door in his face… yeah, he would be laughing at him too.

“Jolly! That isn’t funny!”

“Oh Ellie, this is hilarious, are you kidding? He finally meets the girl of his dreams outside the bar like he wanted, and she almost maims him! This is just perfect! Well done Folio, bravo, you’re just making your mark from the get-go, she’ll never forget this, that's for sure.”

At that, Folio just rolled his eyes again with Jolly’s sarcastic remark, but really, he didn’t blame him at all. Walking over to sit at his desk, shifting to leaning back in his chair.

“Jolly!”

Ellie exclaimed again, shoving at their friend's arm as he laughed again,

“It’s okay Ellie, he’s right, it’s not like she didn’t sit and have a breakfast date with me, and agree to a lunch date with me tomorrow.. So I guess, she really won't forget it, will she?”

Grinning wide.. 

“And admittedly, smiling this wide, well it does hurt, just a little bit. At least most of the bruising is gone, should be fine by tonight, definitely before my date tomorrow.”

Not that it mattered today, so he wasn’t worried. They healed so quickly anyway. It used to be so much longer to heal when he was alive and got into a fight, that much he was sure he remembered clearly! So the fact that his nose, broken or just badly bruised was going to be completely gone in a day, or even two, it was a bloody miracle! Perks of being already dead he supposed, if you couldn’t be alive, then why put up with all the added pain going with it right? Right!

“That’s great Folio! Do you know where you are going to go yet?”

Folio just couldn’t stop smiling even if his nose was hurting a little, he knew it was a lot, but how could he stop? He had a real date! Even if it was just a lunch date, with Ishtar, he’d been wanting to go out with her for years!

“I don’t know, we agreed to keep it casual, but I don’t want to just take her to the diner or the pizza place like we usually go to.. But she did love the breakfast wraps we got this morning. Or maybe she would love some of our hangouts.. But maybe it would be better for when she could actually spend time with all of us!”

The more he talked, the more excited he got, his words going a bit fast as he went, going on and on before he heard Ellie giggle, and he couldn’t help the smile as his eyes snapped over towards her, and he blushed slightly with his grin. He was just so happy right now, he couldn’t help himself.

“How about you just think simple Folio, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind either place, and I’m sure she’d hang out with us at them again another time if we do. What's more, she doesn’t have to, you can date her and not expect your friends to hang out with her constantly. The fact that you like her is enough.”

Folio frowned at that..

“But you and Noah-”

Jolly smirked,

“And he’s living in fantasy land, wanting the dream, perfect girl, perfect date, perfect-”

“What is with you, Jolly, stop making fun of him.. You didn’t make fun of Noah when we started dating, why are you making fun of Folio?”

Ellie was stumped then when that just got both of the guys laughing,

“What, what did I miss?”

“Oh, okay, that is classic?”

Eventually, Folio was wiping tears of amusement from his eyes from laughing as hard as he had been,

“Ellie, damn straight we made fun of Noah, you were just never around to hear it.. This is nothing.. And don’t you worry, I can handle all the ribbing that Jolly throws at me.”

Immediately, he lifted his hand with a vulgar gesture with his middle finger, flipping the bird at his best friend without a second thought, earning a chuckle from the other man, who had indeed been teasing Folio on purpose. Folio knew it, Jolly as sceptical as he could be at times, always had a reason, and it didn’t feel like he had one this time so he was taking his words with a grain of salt.

“Besides, Ishtar is worth everything, nothing anything that any of the guys could say to me would be enough to upset how happy she makes me.”

When Jolly snorted at that with a remark of Sap, Folio just turned around and flipped him off with both his middle fingers this time, earning a laugh.

“Folio, but seriously, tomorrow, go with simple, not fancy, pizza, diner, chinese take out sitting on the curb and eating out of boxes, she doesn’t care what you do, she just wants to hang out with you man. Any chick that breaks your nose one day, and not only agrees to breakfast and a second date all in one go, just wants to get to know you.. Save the fancy for something really special… or when you’ve fucked up.”

Jolly smirked..

“And if you think about it, she’s lived here her whole life, she’d probably been to most places. So, wouldn’t it be better just to enjoy the day than to try to impress her with something she already knows?”

Huh, Folio was thoughtfully, he hadn’t considered it like that, he’d been thinking of it as introducing her to the places he liked.. Maybe, after tomorrow.. She could introduce him to a place he liked.. He liked that idea..

“Maybe not the chinese boxes sitting on the curbside though, that might be pushing the casual lunch idea just a little far, Jolly.”

Folio grinned as Ellie added her opinion, looking between his two friends, thankful that they were here to help him. He would have had no clue and be running around trying to figure out restaurants and ended up going to some place stupid..

“Maybe the diner, it’s one of my favourite places to go for lunch, because they have such an assortment of food, and it can lead into all kinds of topics if we run out of ideas.”

Pulling out his phone, ready to text Ishtar since he knew she wouldn’t be at work yet, and he didn't want to disturb her while she was at work tonight. Sending off the quick message about the diner and time and asking if that was okay.. 

Folio: 12 at the Diner on 5th okay for lunch? Princess: Perfect, I look forward to it! Folio: Can’t wait!

“Yesss, perfect, she agreed. It’s on!”

Folio almost couldn’t sit still, it wasn’t even lunchtime today, he hadn't to wait more than a whole day before he could see her again! He groaned loudly at the thought, catching Ellie’s attention immediately.

“Oh no, has something gone wrong?”

“I just realised that I don’t get to see her until tomorrow!”

The laughter that came from Jolly filled the whole room, Folio couldn’t even bring himself to give him the finger this time, he just wanted it to be tomorrow already!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[ghostofskywalker]

Forever Is The Sweetest Con

Wanda Maximoff/Reader

Fictober 2023 Day 21 of 31

Words: 933

Summary: You may have had some tricks up your sleeve, but so did she, and soon you were forced to confront the truth behind your time together.

taylorswiftbingo square (and recommended listening for this fic): cowboy like me

Note: since evermore is my favorite of taylor's albums i was so excited to write this, i hope i've done the vibes of the song justice :)

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

At first, it was a means to an end.

The two of you met in a shady dive bar, each with your own agenda and an aura of indifference. It was clear that she, just like you, was a professional who did not bother with the trivial intimacies of life, and was instead focused on the greater plan. And you admired that. A long time ago you had attempted to take advantage of every single path one could take in life, but the unfortunate reality of the job you worked became more clear, forcing you to step back.

You never wanted to fall in love.

Cryptic words and backdoor deals characterized the time you spent together. Although you often worked towards the same goal, you knew that she had never been completely open and honest with you, and you had acted the same way in return. There was too much to lose if it all went wrong, and as beautiful as she was, you had to make sure you were able to disappear at a moment’s notice.

For a while, the arrangement seemed to work out.

There was something to be said about the loneliness of the life you lived, and even though you never had long, meaningful conversations about the things that happened to you, the feeling of her skin against yours did wonders to ease some of that ache. Physically, you often felt as though the two of you were joined as one, and each night you spent with her was filled with panting moans, breathless whines, and whispered ecstasies. Even if all you knew was her first name.

You could tell that she was running from her past the same way you were running from yours.

Your time together was almost simpler than the rest of your life, because for a few hours you could forget the mounting dread you felt and lose yourself in the smell of her hair. Even when you worked jobs with her, you always played the role of a decoy, flirting with whoever Wanda needed you to or providing an out to any conversation she wanted to escape. You learned that she was a phenomenal dancer, and the two of you twirled together across dance floors at clubs you could never afford to be members of, ignorantly content in the way that you lived.

The thrill of caring about someone else, especially when you had previously convinced yourself that it was completely impossible, was addictive. You could feel yourself losing the ambition that had previously ruled your days. All your thoughts revolved around Wanda, when you were going to see her next, what you wanted to say to her, what you wanted to do with her.

You never talked about it with her, but you began to put resources away. A goal formed in your mind: to make enough that you could leave behind your life of crime, that for the first time in over a decade you could settle somewhere, with her. But of course, things soon came crumbling down.

She always stayed the full night when you saw each other, you always woke up curled in each others’ arms, laying there as the light of the rising sun crept in through the cracks in the blinds. But this morning, when you opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep from them, the bed next to you was empty.

No noise crept through the walls, the apartment as quiet as it would be during the dead of night. The black heels she always wore when you worked together were not in their spot, the space next to your standing mirror glaringly empty. And finally, the space where Wanda always slept was cold, even though the sheets were still rumpled. It all pointed to a conclusion that you didn’t want to accept, because you wanted to continue to live in delusion.

The final nail in the coffin came when you saw the note on the table, and your heart fell to the floor as you recognized her beautiful scrawling handwriting.

My darling,

I hope you can one day forgive me for this. I can wholeheartedly say that I have cherished every moment we spent together, but you should have known that it could never last. We are two unshakable forces, and it doesn’t seem fair to snuff out our flame, but it would only lead to more destruction.

Please don’t try to find me, it would only reopen wounds we’ve both worked so hard to heal.

Wanda

The feeling of crushing hopelessness hit you square in the chest, and there was truly no way you could pretend things were different now.

And to make matters worse, she had drained all your money, stolen every penny she thought you had. All that was left was the secret stash you had put away, with every intention of using it to build your life together. Now, you were forced to spend those hopes and dreams, to confront the reality of your situation by moving forward in your life all alone. That in itself hurt more than if you found out she had truly taken every single cent you had.

But through all that, you still cared for her, even if you dreamed of enacting revenge and making her hurt in the same way.

And maybe one day you could forgive her, like her letter suggested, but for now you were content in trying to forget.

It was stupid, the way you believed that you could love in a life like this, but you had certainly learned your lesson now. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[fkajohnlennon]

Not going to lie, I am intrigued by the catboy and the buggered Beatle WIPs 👀🐈🐈‍⬛

Catboy is soooo small and tiny right now!!! Like a little baby bird! I don’t have much more, but what I do have is buggered Beatle, one of my babies that I really want to finish one day!! Honestly, it might be my favorite WIP 💗

The prompt for that one was as follows: John Lennon: ‘I was trying to put it ‘round that I was gay, you know - dancing at all the gay clubs in Los Angeles, flirting with the boys”, plus the rumors that John AND Paul were spotted together in a gay bar … what if J & P spotted a cute guy and used the line ‘Hey, we saw you from across the bar and really dig your vibe’ ….

Up to the writer to decide who the guy is, whether he’s younger or older, on what basis he is chosen. Bonus points if a bit of jealousy arises during the 3 way hookup

They’re both piss drunk when they first talk about it: a thankful bit of lubrication which opens their mouths just a bit easier than either of them anticipated.

“Did you ever do it?” Paul asks, lazily sucking on a cigarette and zipping up his pants.

It’s 1965 and they’re both coming off the high of a show with the fire of expensive liquor coursing through their veins. They’d wanked one out in the venue toilet stalls next to each other, calling out names like their former schoolboy selves used to until they could no longer speak, only pant. When John unexpectedly called out the last name, Montgomery Clift, Paul came so hard and suddenly, he had to brace himself on the stall door.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, Macca,” John slurs, stealing the cigarette from Paul. He hasn’t washed his hands yet, and something glistens on his skin under the fluorescents.

Paul grimaces. “You know, did you ever—” the words are stubbornly sticking to the roof of his mouth. “Did you and Brian…?”

“Did I ever shag Brian?” John asks with a raised eyebrow, and Paul nods mutely. John pauses like he’s thinking something over; a pensive look with a drunken edge that slows it from fleeting to noticeable. “Nah,” he finally answers, and Paul breathes out, only for John to hit him with: “I let him fuck me.”

Paul is too stunned to speak. He just gapes at John, who is very pointedly not meeting his eyes.

“Well,” he gathers himself after a moment, once he’s taken the cigarette back from John, “how was it?”

John chuckles. “Bloody fantastic, if I’m being honest. Did you know we have a spot, like girls?”

Paul can feel he’s blushing, but he’s too drunk to care. He can’t imagine that John notices, not under the influence of his own alcohol. There’s a gnawing, nauseous feeling in Paul’s stomach as John talks, but Paul, ever the student, is also dreadfully curious. He’d never even been within ten feet of a homosexual, not before he met Brian, and he has to admit, he is curious.

“How do you mean?” he asks.

Finally, John’s mouth curls into a familiar sharp smile. “I mean: you know when you’re giving it to a girl, and you curl your fingers just right and she screams? Well, we lads have that, but it’s…” he hesitates.

“Up our arse?” Paul supplies. John answers with a roar of laughter.

“Right, right. I’m telling you, Macca,” he goes to move towards Paul, but he’s so wasted, he stumbles over his few small steps. He lurches forward, and Paul steadies him with a firm hand and a giggle. “I’m telling you, when you feel it, it—it’s better than any wank you can imagine. Honest!”

Paul is enthralled. He’s also sick to his stomach. “John, are you a homosexual?” He hopes the question comes out as earnest rather than disgusted. He’s too drunk to fight off an angry, equally drunk John right now without coming out with a black eye.

Thankfully, John just placidly shakes his head. “Nah, but I wanted to try it. You should too— every bloke should. It was liberating. Made me kind of understand how the bird’s feeling. Made me a better lover, I think.”