#all those artists were probably locked down

[theemeraldforestafterdark]

I think I may have made this post already, but oh well. 2022 was so full of albums that really made an impact on me. I was listening to another one, without seeing the release date and I was like 'I betcha' and yep, it was released 2022.

[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐘

Arthur Morgan x f!reader, word count: 10k +, 18+

This was an older fanfic I wrote in my notes a little while ago that I decided to - try - to revive and post while I work on other fics. (I swear I'm gonna write about other characters other than Arthur lmao--)

Summary: ( Based on the stranger mission: ''an artist's way,, in CH4 ) You run into Arthur while on an errand in Saint Denis while he invites you to come with him to Charles Châtenay's gallery. Afterwards you two go out for a drink, then eventually to a local hotel where you find out Arthur had been drawing you in Charles' "style"

Warnings: smut with plot HEAVILY based off the game's mission - Reader briefly mentioned to be a virgin, fingering, unprotected PIV sex, riding, creampie, oral sex M!receiving + F!receiving. Younger woman reader, Arthur's a big boy, canon that he grabs the headboard sorry not sorry.

More and more you’ve found yourself becoming the gang’s “errand boy” which was often Arthur’s job, though he’s been gone more often now, either on bounty’s or doing the dirty work in the gang. So Dutch had you do the clean work. You’d say you didn’t mind it, the running around at least, after all it was one of your only excuses to get away from camp. You’d jump when Pearson needed more herbs or vegetables from the store or if Dutch needed some cigars. You usually went to Saint Denis most of the time, it was the closest to camp after all -and something about running these errands in the city made you feel right at home. The gang was a downgrade from growing up in the city of course, still not completely used to it: the running, it was as if every time you were comfortable everyone had to pack up and move to a whole new location. Hell, sometimes it means crossing states.

You had just walked back to your horse after buying some goods from the general store across the street, packing your purchases into the saddle bags of your hitched horse -some canned fruits and vegetables, cigarettes as per request from most of the people in camp, and some ammo Dutch asked for, just to stock up I suppose. As you worked on buttoning the flap to the saddle bag back down, making sure none of your goods would be seen by people walking by, after all you spent your hard earned -ahem, stolen money- on those things, you could’ve sworn you heard a man ask for directions, a man with a voice as familiar to you as you own.

You looked over your shoulder to see the man, the sandy brown locks under the gambling hat told you enough, why was Arthur in the city? You didn’t think Dutch had any chores for him today, thus why he asked you to go to the store. He held a small card in his hand, looking from the back of it before his gaze fell back on the woman passing, the one he had asked for directions. Once he got them he’d nod to the woman, eyes falling back onto the card as she walked off. 

You’d pat your horse on the neck before walking onto the sidewalk where Arthur stood, he didn’t notice you til’ you tapped on his shoulder. “Arthur?” You were sure he nearly jumped out of his skin. If your voice wasn’t so familiar he probably would’ve elbowed you out of pure defense. 

“Christ–! you tryin’ to kill me sneakin’ up on me like that?” He’d pause for a moment as if his brain finally processed that it was you. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Good news, you’ve been replaced.” 

“Wha–” His brows would furrow together as his mind cranked to figure out your meaning, that was until you pulled your little shopping list out from the satchel swung over your shoulder. “Oh, that.” 

Of course he couldn’t care less about being ‘replaced’ in that department. It was usually a pain in his ass –And honestly you were a pain in his ass too. It’s not that he didn’t like you, you were just ultimately too spunky for his nature. He’d gladly admit you were a good shot, a good killer. So with that you made a good member for this gang. Personality wise he couldn’t help but wince at your jokes while others would laugh, the tiniest amount of attitude that laced each of your sentences. He wasn’t one to like immaturity, especially from someone who was an adult. Though, you were barely even that.

“Have fun runnin’ around with that list of yours then. Seems you’re really movin’ on up.” He’d scorn.

He’d look down at the card in his hands, then back up to look around his surroundings.

“Do you know where this is?”

He handed you the card, the finished paper now warm from him holding it for so long now against your fingertips. It was an address to one of the buildings on this street, you were surprised he hadn’t realized by now.

“That woman didn’t tell you? It’s right on this street.” 

“No.” He’d roll his eyes. “She looked at me like I lost my mind.” 

You’d snicker at that, now walking down the sidewalk with him, both of your boots clicking against the stone sidewalk. Then you stopped in front of the brick building. ”Here, I think.” You’d give that card one last look, noticing the name on the back of the card, you’d squint to see if you were reading it right -Charles Châtenay? you could’ve sworn I heard that name–

My eyes flicked up to the poster on the side of the brick, looks like it was what I thought after all. I usually pick up the paper when I go this route. The route of aimlessly following Dutch’s list as I walk or ride around the city, gives me something to read when I get back to Shady Belle. Seems the artist had an open gallery today. you couldn’t help but snort, the thought of you, Arthur Morgan going to an art gallery full of practically- well, pornography, now that just might be the funniest damn thing you’ve heard all week. -Your immaturity was truly striking.

“Mr. Morgan, Mr. Morgan.” You’d snark. Of course when Arthur wasn’t acting like the man he was -the same man with five-thousand dollars on his head alone, the same who’s murdered more than a person could fathom he was just your regular ol’ suck up.

“Don’t start with that now, I’m already annoyed I gotta go to this thing.” He tapped his boot onto the sidewalk, taking that card back from you and putting it back into his satchel. “Well, ‘less you wanna come in with me. You’d have a field day with this kinda thing. Châtenay seems like a man who’d entertain you anyway.”

You’d think it over for a moment, you could hear chatter already coming from the windows of the building that were open just a crack. Surely you’d find entertainment in it but you were also fond of the arts as well. Though paintings of women laid out nude wouldn’t strike something in you as it would in a man, you’d be surprised if you were the only woman in that building other than the ones on canvas. –At least this would bring some entertainment to your day. 

“I’ll keep you company. Lead the way– or, shall I? Seeing you’re horrible with directions.”

“Up the stairs and to the right.” He’d recite the directions written on the back of that card. “I think I can remember that.”

You two walked into the building together, up the stairs and to the right and you were there. The first hall was filled with sculptures, beautiful paintings hung against the blue walls, the next room you two stepped in was Châtenay’s, you and Arthur’s gaze met with women’s breasts and men’s cocks painted with oils on the canvases. It surely was– something. Arthur tugged his collar to clear his throat. 

The room had more of a variety of guests than you thought, actually more women than men which came as a shock up until you realized these women were actually the models conversing with the other models. They seemed quite proud of their work, respectably so. Arthur had spotted the french artist across the room chatting one of the models up, he wouldn’t want you to get mixed up in his own charades so Arthur would squeeze your shoulder for your attention just for a moment.

“Why don’t you stay here, pretend to be a model or sumthin’, princess. Wouldn’t want you to get your ear talked off by Charles.” 

Your eyes fell on the french artist as he stood distracted across the room, you could barely hear nor understand the words that he was blabbering out through his thick french accent. Something told you maybe it was a good idea for Morgan to handle what he’s gotten himself into with this man before you were stuck talking to someone you could hardly understand, stuck replying with ‘mhm’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ as if you knew what he was saying. Although you’d feel a bit awkward standing there and staring at the intimate paintings of both men and women while standing in the same room as the people being portrayed in oil, it’d probably be best for you at least, you were only here to keep Arthur company and today you felt you’d be less of a nuisance to him by obeying his wishes.

“Sure thing.”

You watched as Arthur walked away from you all the way to the other side of the gallery leaving you alone with the model’s dressed in their elegant, expensive attire that you could only dream of owning. And unfortunately due to the paintings you now know what’s under the rich clothing.

– That evening only got more interesting from there on. It was quite ridiculous, you and Arthur couldn’t have been there for more than fifteen minutes before all hell started to break loose. The husbands and wives of the models had practically raided the building before shouting at their spouses, you couldn’t really tell what was happening between Châtenay being attacked by the men and the women, being hit with a variety of chairs, purses, and of course, fists. Before things could get out of hand with you in the mix Arthur came over to you. He had a wide smile on his face, could’ve sworn this was the first time you’ve seen him laugh so hard he had developed tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“You should probably get outta here before you get in the mix of fists, sweetheart–” His voice quickly cut off by a crash as he escorted you out of the gallery. “Wait outside.” He’d pat your shoulder, leaving you standing at the top of the stairs as he left to go help the artist.

“Sure– thing.”  It was like that turned into your only response.

You didn’t really have time to leave with a jest, or something more than two words, not to be a pussy but you really didn’t feel like being hit by a stray flying chair, so you just walked down the stairs and back outside. You’d laugh to yourself as you walked down the street and away from that brick building, of course the highlight of the day only lasted a short moment, it was quick and rushed, but really you didn’t need to stare at those paintings any longer than you already have. -You felt as if Charles or the gallery wouldn’t be mentioned or thought of again, at least in this moment. But you’d be wrong about that. -The sun was setting now, it looked beautiful against all the buildings that made up the city, you found a bench to sit on, figured you’d read that paper you got earlier while you waited for Arthur. Your eyes would skim the words but nothing would really register.

____

A little while had gone by and after the sun finally set, the stars scattered against the dark sky as you stayed patiently waiting on that wooden –and quite uncomfortable bench, constantly finding yourself adjusting and shifting to get more comfortable, ‘course it didn’t work . You heard footsteps, looking up from the newspaper you felt you read about a hundred times by now out of pure boredom you were relieved to see that it was Arthur.

“Jesus, I thought you’d never come back. Why’d you take so long?” 

“Had to escort the dumbass home so he didn’t get killed. Seems he had a whore waiting for him an’ everythin’.” 

You’d let out a short breath at that, not quite a laugh, you felt your body getting a bit tired but you quickly shook off the feeling, rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm before standing from the bench, leaving the paper behind you, you had a bit of a ride back to Shady Belle, wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the back of your horse. You also had to get all that food and goods you bought back to the camp –though you weren’t quite sure how urgent we needed the provision.

You and Arthur started walking down the sidewalk, side-by-side, the night air now nipping at your skin through the thin fabric of your blouse. It had been too long without a good tease from you to purposely annoy him, clearing your throat to prepare to speak.

“How do you know that artist anyway?”

He’d look down at you as he walked, that was a fair question to ask.

“I met him in the saloon –not the big one down the street here, the smaller one. Don’t know if you’ve ever been there.”

You’d shrug. “I’ve passed by it.”

Arthur would nod. “Met him in there and somehow he convinced me to go to that little show. Gave one of his–”  He'd stop his words looking down at you before shaking his head. 

“Nevermind” 

Charles gave him one of his many artworks, a nude woman, an illustration that he embarrassingly kept safely in his satchel since. And now he’d especially not want to tell you, you were already amused that he even went to the damn show which he himself had more fun that he should’ve. Though, to mention, he didn’t start having fun til’ Châtenay was getting his ass handed to him.

You on the other hand were now dying to know what he gave Arthur, –can’t just start a sentence without finishing it. You had a feeling begging him for the answer wouldn’t work of course, you’d try anyway.

“Oh come onnnnnn.” You sneered. “M’sick of you doing that, you’ve been on this earth long enough to realize you can’t just start a sentence without finishing.”

‘N’ I’ve known you long enough to know I shouldn’t be givin’ you any more reasons to laugh at me.”

“I don’t– laugh,” You’d scoff. “Five months isn’t long either, you barely know me.”

Morgan let out a sigh, tying to think of a good excuse to kinda brush away what he said. Something to finish the sentence he started. “He gave me some money, paid me to go to that exhibit. Don’t want you goin’ around thinkin’ I’m a pervert who went for a good time.”

You’d look up to him after he said that. If that’s all it was –money. “I wasn’t thinkin’ that.”

Well, maybe it crossed your mind once or twice. But then again why would he stop himself from saying that? Right now you couldn’t bother to make sense of it, you just shrugged it off. –Now the walk was silent for the most part, there wasn’t really anything to say. Once you got to your horse you’d pat the saddle bag, feeling that your goods hadn’t been stolen, letting out a sigh before turning back to Arthur.

“We should both get back to camp before someone gets worried.”

Really, you didn’t know who would get worried, you’ve stayed the night at a hotel in the city more times than you could count just so you could sleep in a comfortable bed ‘stead of your worn, hard cot. 

“No one will be worried. Come on I’m the one who made you stay out here longer than you intended, I’ll buy you a whiskey or sumthin’.” 

You’d look at him, almost surprised to hear the offer. It was rare for him to be sweet, if that was the right word for offering you a drink. It sounded good, the thought alone of the cool alcohol burning down your throat already waking you up a bit more than you were.

“That’d– that’d be nice.”

_____

Not too long after those words were shared you and Morgan had made it into the saloon, the faint playing of the piano heard from across the street now loud along with the chatter between people sitting and eating at their tables to the men around their table playing poker. Since it was a bit later in the day –the night now fully taking its course, it was like a signal for men and women alike to flood the saloon. You and Arthur had found a booth to be separated from the crowd at least a little bit. You both set your satchels down on the corners of your seats, Arthur’s finger tapping against the finished wood that made up the table before he took out a cigarette from his satchel along with his lighter, flicking the flame before holding it against his cigarette to light it, Adjusting to stuff the lighter conveniently into the pocket of his pants, inhaling the tobacco into his lungs before blowing the smoke away from the booth.

“I’ll get up, get us some drinks.” 

“Mhm.” You’d hum as you watched him shift out of the booth, walking away to go to the bar. You’d notice something in his empty space, a piece of paper had fallen out of his satchel. You didn’t think anything of it of course, didn’t bother reaching over to put it back in for him. Curiosity killed the cat.

A few minutes later Arthur came back with a couple bottles, sitting back down into the leather seats of the booth with a sigh, the bottles clinking against the table as he placed them down.

“Thanks.” You'd nod, popping the cork out the bottle with your thumb.

“Just two beers, don’t wanna get too drunk, not here.”

Boy, was he wrong. 

After those two beers Arthur had gotten up again to get another. Once beers were out he went to whiskey. One whiskey was out he grabbed any alcohol they had at that bar. Two turned into four. Four turned into six, –eight… Ten.. Fuck.

To be fair you didn’t have as many drinks as Arthur deciding to play responsible tonight, but it was still enough.

The once clean table turned into a mess of empty bottles, glasses, Arthur’s cigarettes and the ashes from made a mess of the ashtray pushed to the side of the table. Random splashes of golden liquid dripped on the table. Now piss drunk in a booth with an also piss drunk Morgan was… Actually a real fuckin’ good time. A peep could escape your lips and Arthur could double over the table with laughter, same with you. 

One idiotic conversation after another you finally thought of it again even through your drunken haze –whatever that artist ‘gave him’ to persuade him into going to the gallery. Why was it clawing at you so much? You usually weren’t so interested in him or his life. Maybe it was because you knew he was blatantly lying to you. 

 “Now– you tell me the hell that– that artist gave you– remember?” 

Finishing the sentence with a hiccup you’d look back at Arthur. Now since you both were a couple more shots away from passing out onto the sea of glasses that made up the table, both of your tongues were loose, of course.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he reached into his satchel. “Goddamn, guess you know how to loosen a man up–”  He pulled out that piece of paper that was earlier peeking out from the top of the leather. “--Gave me this pretty little drawin’. Ain’t she a fuckin’ ‘beaut, eh?”

The picture he slid over to you from the other side of the table was a photograph of a nude woman of course, her bare breasts on a perfect display as she perched on a chair. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he really carrying this around all this time? Sure– that creep of a man could truly draw, but Arthur wasn’t one to keep aimless gifts close to him, definitely not directly in his satchel for safe keepings –though you couldn’t imagine what he was actually doing with this picture. If it’s what you thought that would be pretty damn pathetic. 

“He surely can draw– that man–” You’d slur, sliding the illustration back to Arthur, wasn’t something you really needed to study.  “--Now, you don’t–” You’d clear your throat “Surely you don’t–” “Now princess, I’d need a lot more than a sketch for that.”

You’d laugh, his words melted right off his tongue from the alcohol. Right now you couldn’t even force yourself to think anything of the words he was saying, and anyway, the thought of a man –even Arthur jerking off to a measly sketch of a woman sounded more unappealing than something that’d get you going. Why would it anyway? Arthur was– well, he was Arthur. You’d often be cautious to even call him a friend of yours. Though right about now in the haze of booze that clouded your brain and same his, he’d most definitely call you his friend as an introduction at least.

The music, the chatter, the yelling and hollering in the saloon was echoing through your head. You were sure the pianist practically banging on the keys of the piano would split your ears open if you stayed in that place any longer –you’d ignore it for now, hell maybe even another drink would solve that problem.

“...I didn’t need to know that information.” You’d finally get past your lips with another giggle, slouching over the table with that damned empty bottle still in your grasp, being swung around to enunciate all your sentences. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips –blame the brandy for that. He leaned back into the leather seats of the booth, his arm lazily draped onto the table, tapping his finger against the glass bottle he held –completely empty. 

“You asked.” 

He shrugged, taking a long sip from the glass bottle, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid slipping down his throat, feeling unnecessarily in love with the burning. You’d pout, tap your finger against the bottle you held, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, a smirk quickly replaced how your bottom lip would stick out from your top.

 “Didn't expect an answer– not like that–” hic “–not from you.”

“What are you– drawin’ these types of things too? Psh– maybe you needed the reference.” You’d mock him, that brought a scoff from his lips as if you just said something so fucking absurd, he shook his head, slamming his bottle back down onto the wooden table as you swirled your empty bottle around the table. His gaze was seemingly stuck on the table as if he was examining the grooves and knots in the wood, running his finger along the imperfections.

“No, I–” His voice was conveniently cut off by a bang coming from one of the tables, more loud hollering, yelling –looks like someone won a poker game at least, the table surrounded by wasted men, all a bit too excited to be here tonight. Arthur was clearly getting antsy and the alcohol was even clouding your vision. 

Imagine a radio overlapping ten different songs over each other and now replace the songs with the not-so pleasant sounds of men who’d been guzzling booze all night screaming over losing their money by their own stupid and idiotic decisions, women cackling over the city’s pointless gossip– that damn piano! You were ready to smash your beer bottle over the pianist’s head–

 You tried to take a swig from your empty bottle before tossing it onto the table with the others. With a groan Arthur buried his face into his worked palms, he seemed just as sick of it as well.

“Goddamn–” He’d groan. His hands pressing harder into his face as if he was desperately trying to wipe away the noise. “Fuck. Fuck…” 

You two just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

__________

So, why stand it?

You and Morgan made it out of the bar successfully without beating someone with one of the bottles from the mess you had carelessly left on the table –you two getting out of there in time for the bartender to say anything. Swinging your satchels over your shoulders you two left the godforsaken noisebox that saloon had turned on, now all the ‘’hootin’ ‘N’ hollerin’,, was a faint sound heard from the distance as you walked down the sidewalk.

You rubbed your temple with the pad of your thumb, feeling a little better now without all the over fucking excitement.

“Gah– fuck.” Arthur would lean up against the brick building beside him, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before looking forward, noticing the lit sign for the hotel in the distance. It was quite obvious you two wouldn’t want to be riding your horse back to camp right now. Morgan checked his pocket watch, the arms of the clock pointing to 11:35. ‘Kay, not too late.

“You don’t wanna ride all the way to camp right now, do ya?” His voice deeper than normal from all the drinking, the slurring.

“Not particularly,” 

With a pause your head turned to the sign of the hotel, it’d be better just to go right straight there, once again you might’ve gone it anyway tonight just for that comfortable bed that comes with the deal  –Hell, two dollars could get you a bed with two rooms if you’re lucky enough. 

A hum escaped your throat as you nodded. “I–”

“Dont– don’t worry I’ll be payin’” 

As if you didn’t have two dollars to spare you perked up a bit at that. Guess it was all you needed to hear.

No more excuses, you’d be spending the night with this drunken fool. 

You two both were wobbly on your feet, of course with the amount of shots and bottles practically swallowed whole you could go figure that. You walked into the front doors as you tried to adjust your clothes, Arthur pushed his hat up so it wouldn’t be slouched over his eyes.

“Ah, may I help you two?” The clerk at the front desk had one of those fake overexaggerated smiles on his face.

“Just lookin’ for a room to stay the night. Nothin’ special.” He’d clear his throat, trying to shake off the drunken slur that was making his voice. “Two beds.”

Of course he had to clarify that– er, it only made sense anyway. It’d be really awkward if you and Arthur had to share a–

“Sorry, we don’t have rooms with two beds here.”

Shit.

Well it was logical at least, why would they? Let’s think. Who actually gets hotel rooms – commonly it’s men who’ve bought themselves a whore for the night or someone looking for a place to rest on their ventures. Not often you have two drunken outlaws stumbling in asking for two beds.

“Fine. M’That’s just– fine.” 

Arthur would pass some money over the desk to the man behind, in exchange he received a key to the room.  

“Upstairs, first room to your left, enjoy the stay folks.”

Jesus, you could’ve sworn that smile was melting off that clerk’s face as he spoke. You’d rub your temple again as you and Arthur just said a quick ‘’thank you,, in unison. 

Both of your boots would stomp heavily up the stairs. – upstairs first room to your left. Once there you turned to it, Arthur put the key in, turned it, opened the door. The rusted hinges creaked as it opened, though despite that sound the door opened to reveal a very nice looking hotel room. The bed was made, a thick quilt and were those– satin pillows? 

Surely this was paradise.

Arthur’s eyes looked around the room, other than the bed, a dresser in front, couple nightstands and an oil lamp to give the room a nice warm light –there was an arm chair pushed to the side of the room. 

“I’ll take the chair.”

He groaned as he shimmied his coat off of his shoulders, lazily throwing it onto the arm of the chair. Now with this action he also removed his satchel, it hit the nightstand by the bed, narrowly missing the lamp and hitting the edge before his palms met with his forehead again.

“M’gonna try to find a bathroom in this place–”

You’d let a scowl cross your mouth as he said that, watching as he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him.

Well, at least you could get some peace and quiet– is what you would say if there wasn’t the sound of the bed creaking clearly from rocking back and forth and a quick pace wasn’t coming from behind the drywall of your own room. Whatever, somehow that could be easily ignored by you.

You did notice something more interesting than that though –something you couldn’t seemed to ignore: Arthur’s satchel had fallen from where he had thrown it, landing onto the floor as all his things fell all of it –a mess of papers and money, a couple packs of cigarettes too. You’d click your tongue as you went to pick it up, noticing his journal had fallen out too.

You crouched down to start putting his things back into the leather bag, the money, the cigarettes, though your hands lingered on the worn leather back of his journal for a bit longer than they should’ve.

No, you shouldn’t.

But what if you just– one peak wouldn’t hurt. 

Arthur would probably take a while anyway figuring he went to presumably empty his body of all the alcohol he had drank in just one evening.

 Though as you looked more at the mess on the ground below your knees you’d notice the papers more, one was right side up but underneath the journal, so you’d lift it. Doing so revealed the full drawing done in pencil–

A sketch of a nude woman much like one Châtenay had drawn. But this one– it seemed different. There was more detail, more fluidity to the art, it looked all the more real. Down to the freckles drawn down the valley of her breasts.

You flipped over another stray paper, this one of the same. A naked woman, her breasts on full display, detailed. You’d flip another

And then another.

You’d open his journal.

Flipping through the pages where he’s drawn various things, trees, animals, beautiful scenery of places he’s traveled with the locations written in the corners, some pages filled with chicken scratch of his thoughts– you’d pay no mind to those. You started to notice the pages that were ripped out from his journal yet kept in, more drawings. 

Were you going crazy or did these drawings turn from your average woman with long wavy locks and bright eyes to– you…?

You felt a coil in your gut as you looked down at the images, not the bad kind of coil that you’d get while you’re being chased by an armed man or the kinda coil you’d get as a kid when your parents caught you stealing from the cookie jar– no, you could tell it wasn’t that kind from the additional heat that pooled in your tummy.

Your breathing would pick up, your eyebrows knitted closely as you looked down at these drawings. Your eyes. Your lips. Your nose. Quite obviously your hair too–

Fuck. You were beginning to hear footsteps stumbling down the hallway. You’d quickly shove the contents of his satchel back in, you surely didn't have time to worry about where everything went– if it’d just fall out again, if he’d notice it had been ran and rummaged through. Once it was all in there you quickly latched the button and placed it back on the nightstand, quickly standing from your knees as soon as he opened the door.

“Hi–” 

How could a two letter greeting sound guilty as ever?

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a grunt escaped the back of his throat, though now looking at him maybe you didn’t wish you were as drunk as him right now –even if it probably meant you’d be forgetting about those drawings by now, maybe you’d just brush it off. 

He closed the door behind him as he coughed into his fist, gently guiding you out of the way so he could get to the satchel on the nightstand– 

Fuck.

As he undid the button he reached in to grab a packet of cigarettes when he noticed one of them was missing. 

“You take one of these?”

He’d say, popping the last one of the packet actually still in his satchel between his lips before lighting it.

“What– no! No– I don’t smoke…”

He’d look at you with his half-lidded gaze he’s had since the saloon, furrowing his brows at your reaction, frazzled for no good reason.

“Christ, girl. You don’t take your liquor well.”

That was funny, you’d think it was the other way around.

“I think it’s quite the opposite, Arthur.”

You’d see his gaze shift to the floor as he looked around, where could’ve that pack gone? He was sure he had a second one– no, he knew he had a second one since he just went out and bought it earlier in the day and– Ah, there it was. Halfway to being pushed completely under the bed Arthur bent to pick it back up. He was too delirious to think of why it even got there.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at him, his body– those fingers that you now knew were once holding a pencil to paper, sketching you, what he imagined to be underneath those pretty blouses you wore, those skirts that stopped at your ankles. 

This was killing you. Even though you hadn’t said a word to him you still felt like you were lying to him, deceiving him. You never had a problem with that before anyway, why start now? 

You knew what else you always were –that damn loud, snarky girl he always hated to be around. The one who’d let any words leave her mouth without a thought and now you’re here, standing in silence, you’d think your mouth was sewn shut. 

Under the shadow of the bed Arthur saw something else– a paper.

Shit. 

He tapped his boot on top of it and dragged it out, the sound of the paper sliding across the wooden floor heightened your senses again. Course it was one of those drawings, those drawings. It was his turn for his heart to rapidly thump against his ribs.

“Fuck.” You’d hear him groan as he bent down to pick up that paper now, looking it over, it wasn’t one of the drawings of you, one of the quick sketches of a woman he hadn’t named.

“You didn’t–”

…

“I did.”

The room fell silently quickly after that, how could it not? There was no point of you mustering up a flustered, messy defense in a long drawn out blabber that’d escape your lips so you’d just admit it. It wasn’t nothing you did wrong anyway. Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face once more as he shoved the drawing back into his satchel, easily frustrated now he’d just crump it up into a ball before getting it into the leather bag. He braced his hands on the edge of the night stand, taking in a deep long breath before letting out an even deeper and even longer breath out. 

You should say something– say something so he could look you in the eye.

“I– didn’t ask for those.”

“I know.” He’d breathe.

“I didn’t even realize you considered us friendly– I had no clue you–”

“I know.”

Your fingers would twitch at your sides, swallowing hard.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

At first in his head those words sounded– like they could be angry, it might’ve been his brain telling him that. Then he heard that tone– that almost breathless tone in your voice. He finally got the courage back to look you in the eyes, his fingers peeling away from the edge of that nightstand, if his nails dug into the finished wood any harder he would’ve left indents.

“You should be angry with me.”

“I’m not. I mean– I couldn’t be farther from that.” 

You’d stop a moment, his breathing was heavy and so was yours. Arthur would push and twist his cigarette into the ashtray to put it out, blowing out the rest of the smoke through his nostrils with a suppressed, small cough.

“What are you then, princess?’

The name he had been calling you all day now sounding completely different in this heavy tone. You knew exactly what you were. Voicing that would be a little difficult. You felt if you did end up blurting something out it’d either kill the moment or kill him. His voice still had a slur to it from the alcohol, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Your own throat ran dry as you flicked your eyes to his plump, pink lips.

A man like Morgan knew what that look you gave meant, he’s had his own fair share of whores over the years, working girls were his usual go-to after Mary at least, before too. I mean, Christ, the man had himself a son once he knew what your eyes alone were saying.

“Why don’t you find out…” You’d finally blurt.

His boots clicked against the ground as he walked close to you, his hand reaching out to cup the nape of your neck.

The way his face slowly, so carefully slowly moved towards yours you’d think he was going in for a slow, gentle capture of your lips– not quite.

His face twitched– leaving you with a brief flash of micro emotion before he would collide his lips against your own, his fingers curling and tangling in your locks of hair.

___________

His tongue delved into your mouth before your own body got the chance to respond, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck as you moaned into the kiss. His hands slid down your shoulders, arms, the curve of your waist, hips, all the way down to your thighs, hands moving to the back of them to hoist you up against his body, his palms laid flat against your ass.

Your legs locked around his hips, finding difficulty to find a place to settle your hands as his tongue fucked your mouth, his shoulders? His arms? You’d eventually give them a home on his vest-covered chest, your fingernails digging into the black leather. 

He could feel the denim of his pants stretch around his growing cock, he hoisted you higher, your clothed breasts practically at his lips now, those lips quickly parted from your lips to move down your neck, sucking at your pulse point.

You would never consider yourself noisy, not ever. Your life so far had never called for sex, sure men had given you their eyes, licking their lips seemingly to grab your attention but they never did, failing miserably instead of getting what they wanted from you. Playing with yourself was a lost cause but you’d count it as experience, the frustrated pumps of your own fingers into your pussy weren’t enough to draw pleasure, relieve the ache in your stomach, it only made it tighter.

Arthur had sucked a hickey into your skin, he made sure it’d be hidden by your hair since it was so far up on your neck. His roughened hands still would squeeze your ass cheeks, fingers working you like dough before giving it a quick, hard spank. Almost just muscle memory for him.

With a grunt he’d lower you two down onto the bed, his mouth quickly returned to yours with the same –nearly violent pace. The bulk of his muscles pressing into your more so petite form. His hand roamed your body – your legs, thighs, stomach, moving up to cup then squeeze your soft breast, the pad of his thumb teasing your budded nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse rewarding him with a moan from your sweet lips.

Just the feeling of his clothing rubbing against his body was driving him mad, ‘’uncomfortable,, couldn’t even express it anymore, it was hell. His hands reluctantly pulled away from you, at a quick pace his thick fingers undid the buttons of his heavy vest, when that was gone, quickly discarded to the floor he finally felt like he was gaining - at least some - of his breath back, now it was a matter of his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons of that next. Fuck, he needed you.

He needed you right fucking now. 

He shimmied the shirt off of his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms before it dropped to the floor behind him –he was on top of you again. His hips bucked into yours quick and hard. Grinding. Rubbing.

Your hair would splay behind you on the bed, always thought in moments like this your eyes should be closed, that seemed like common knowledge, your half-lidded eyes still refused to fully close, especially now that his shirt was off. You’ve of course seen Morgan with his shirt off before, tending to his wounds, his cuts, bathing in the lake out by camp– close up like this it was different. His biceps pulsing as his hands braced on either side of your head, fingers curling into the blanket. Puffs of hard breaths would escape him, it was almost like a pattern before he’d grab you by the sides of your thighs tight.

Arthur would let himself fall back against the pillows that piled against the bed frame, dragging your body right onto his lap –now it was obvious how hard he was, that mass between his legs pulsating against your ass, your back pressed against his chest as he snaked an arm around you, quickly so fucking fast. He’d begin unbuttoning your blouse, tugging it right off of you, you were surprised he didn’t tear the fabric off of your pretty little body. His hands moved up, groping and squeezing your tits from behind, one of his hands moved down your body, down your sternum, stomach, and past the hem of your skirt, dripping your hand under it before his thick fingers found your panties.

Fucking hell you were soaked.

“Jesus christ… Fuckin’ hell you’re soaked…”

He’d grunt, he hadn’t spoken in a while, so focused on his movements, breathing. This was something he couldn’t ignore. He placed a kiss on your nape before his fingers would slide past your wet underwear, his hips involuntarily thrusting into your ass, squeezing your tit harder as he pushed two of his big fingers into your hot cunt. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as you practically squealed. 

“Arthur–!”

Your mouth was wide open, sharp, sinful moans escaping from you as his fingers curled inside you, fuck. If you couldn’t even handle his fingers how would you handle his cock. You can only imagine how fucking big it was. Big hands, muscles, body, it’d be one of god’s greatest jokes if it didn’t live up to the rest of his body.

Your cunt would clench around his fingers- it had been this whole time. His fingernail scraped across the tip of your erect nipple again, you’d squirm in his arms, your own fingers digging into his massive biceps, the tip of your finger tracing the vein that ran down it, his muscle would twitch.

With a wet squelch from your tight pussy Arthur would withdraw his fingers from your walls, you weren’t finished. Wasn’t his concern. The coil in your gut felt like it’d burst any second, your cunt left throbbing, empty without the fill of his fingers.

He was gonna give you something better than his fingers.

“Lift up…”

His mouth was pressed against your ear feeling the hot breath fan onto your lobe. His hands gripped onto your hips, pulling that pretty dark skirt right down the length of your legs, you could hear the clinking of his belt behind you, making your ears perk. 

“Up.”

Another command escaped his lips, you’d nod as you shakily got off of him, kneeled onto the bed. Arthur blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table, the room now lit by the paleness of the moonlight that shone through the windows, the curtains spread. It wasn’t like people would see anyway, though it’d be a good show.

Once he had unbuckled his belt he threw it to the ground– Arthur didn’t wear briefs, why would he? They caused him more discomfort, an extra layer of tightness to his balls and shaft. One tug of his work-pants and his hard, thick cock sprung from the confines of the black denim, the light from the window reflecting on the bead of precum that beaded off his cockhole. His size was impressive, sending a signal through your body– you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You ripped your underwear right off of that poor bundle of nerves that it protected, tossing the wet lace down onto the floor.

You practically crawled to him, his hands reached for your hips before pulling you on top of him, walking on your knees over him, his cock shooting straight up as it twitched with your pussy like it was fucking magnetic. You’d sink your body down onto the thickness, moaning his name as you sheathed him into your pulsating cunt. His hand wrapped around the headboard, gripping it for dear life as he pumped his way into you–

“Fuck!” Your hands braced on either one of his hips before one trailed up to his chest.

“That’s it– that’s fuckin’ it, princess.”

His thrusts quickened, his back arching up with each fast pound of his pelvis. His cock slipping deeper into your gummy walls with each snap. His dick curved inside of you, the head of his shaft kissing your g-spot, he felt so painfully good, your teeth bit into your thumb to try to muffle the sounds escaping your mouth, your body shaking. 

You didn’t want to let yourself be this –a mess on top of him. Riding him. You had to gain some control even with his cock slapping inside of your sore hole. His eyes opening up, releasing the headboard to trail back to your breasts, those scarred, calloused hands - once again - giving the tender mounds another generous groping. Your hands would run to rest on top of his own big ones, the size of him consuming every sense –not only his dick, his hands, his body. Looking down and seeing the muscles in his stomach tense and twitch, his head arching backwards into the comfortable pillows behind. He was close. Surely you were too.

His hand ran to the small of your back as he helped you a bit, pushing himself up against the headboard so his body was lazily sat up now, your hips rolling back and forth into his as you ground down, making a loud, throaty moan release from the back of his throat, his balls slapped against your ass, now you’ve got it. Bouncing up and down on his cock leaving him with no mercy.

“You’re gonna make me cum, princess– you’re’mmmm–”

His eyes locked onto the sight of your perfect tits bouncing up and down as you took his cock, he felt his sack tighten up, that unbearable sensation deep in his gut, he was gonna cum. He needed to cum. Though you were still chasing that high as his fingers dug into your waist, your skin there raw and pink from the tight hold. The base of his cock rubbed against your clit, the coarse hair crowning it scratched against the sensitive, swollen bud, the sensation making you lose every bit of yourself to him.

With one more curved thrust from him you’d climax, your body collapsing over top of his as you did. Making sure to cry right into his ear. Your trembling fingers clawing and digging into the broad, tense muscles of his shoulders. His eyes rolling back into his skull as his orgasm followed yours, strings of hot semen coating your inner walls as he fucked it into you, making your pussy milk out every hot, thick rope of cum, his head falling foreward between the valley of those pretty tits he’d been admiring all night. 

“Oh fuck, princess.” 

His voice wavered as he tried desperately to catch his breath back though it seemed it’d all been stolen from his lungs.

“Oh, Arthur…”

That desperate whine squeaked from your lips. A kiss was planted on your clavicle before he’d guide you so you were underneath him again, careful not to jar you too much after all he was well aware of how hard he had just fucked that tight little hole of yours. He’d pull his shaft out from those walls that were spasmed around him just a second ago, watching all that access, hot seed spill out from your pink petals. 

Did you think that was it? Surely you had to return the favor.

Arthur had a cigarette lit and hanging from his lips that were wet with his own salvia, your head between his legs bobbing up and down on that thick cock that was still coated with your own juice. His fingers tangled up in your hair, fucking your mouth with the same force as he had with your cunt just moments ago. The cigarette in his hot mouth was the only thing suppressing his noises, taking it between his fingertips just to let out a loud long moan. 

You’d gag when his swollen tip hit the back of your throat unexpectedly, your hands digging into his thighs as your eyes held close so fucking tight tears welled up in them, making your vision blurry as you looked up at Arthur, eyes closed, puffing on that cigarette. Your left hand went to wrap around your base as you pulled him nearly completely out of your mouth, your lips still wrapped around his cockhead, your tongue tracing his hole.

“Goooooood fuckin’ girl… Keep going–” 

Your hand jerked him off now as your abused throat got to catch a break, though it’d still need to be put up to work, hm? You hopped onto his thigh as your hand now caressed his chest, trickling your fingers down his thick chest hair that covered the tan skin. Your thumb teased his red hot tip, before you kept rolling your hand up and down –he was close, you now leaned to tell when that vein that ran down his low stomach all the way down to the middle of his shaft began to twitch and pump you’d get to milk the man dry a second time. A mix of your drool and his precum dripping down his length.

Your fist tightened around him as your mouth locked with his as he held the smoking cigarette between his forefinger and his middle, his hand wrapping in your hand to the nape of your neck, hips bucking into your palm, he cums again. Hard. Right into your fist. 

Arthur was panting like a damn dog, you had jerked him off just right to get his legs to tremble as they spread for you. He broke away from your mouth to catch his breath that you stole from him. You trailed a kiss to his neck, he had been marking you all night you thought it was only fair to give him some too, sucking a purple mark into his skin before trailing your mouth down.

“Good girl— good fuckin’ girl…” He was a mess.

His praise was always a godsend to you, ringing through your ears, you craved it. Your tongue ran down his collar, his shoulder, then down his arm, those pulsing muscles that were smooth to the touch, glistening with his sweat. The way his chest began heaving heavily as you traced the thick vein that ran down his bicep with your tongue.

Receiving was something that his body needed. But giving was something that he craved. Just hearing the sweet moans and cries from a woman’s mouth as it hung agape was something that could get him off more times at just the thought of than a blowy. 

–Though now your legs were on his shoulders as he pumped his tongue into your walls, running it up and down your slit as he - messily - ate your pussy, he was starving for it after all. Your back was arching upwards but his hands were too occupied holding your ankles to the dips of his shoulders to touch you anywhere else, his nose pressed against your clit –even his nose could find work. Your pants were hot and labored, all you can let out those sharp, gorgeous whines of his name, the one you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Arthur!”

Again.

“Fuck- fuck, Arthur–!”

His name learned to roll off your tongue like honey, it seemed to be becoming the thing that came natural to you in life. He loved it, his mouth sucking feverishly at your clit, he knew all  those sweet-spots, you weren’t a religious girl, - if you were you wouldn’t be in your right mind to let Arthur do these truly sinful things to you - but you’d thank god to every whore, every woman that taught him these tricks. 

Your thighs would squeeze his head til’ it was about ready to pop, though that’s just what Arthur wanted, mumbling praise into your sweet, slick folds as his fingers moved into the mix too, forcing your body to that high you’d been desperately chasing, the pad of his finger pressing against one of your soft spots.

You’d cum hard on his face, your glistening climax now coated his beard as he removed his face from your thighs, looking at your heaving, shaking body now beneath him. Resting your legs down he’d slowly lower himself back onto you, his lips kissing from your navel to your lips, his body - and yours, of course - finally feeling a bit heavy.

“You’re too good f’me, girl…”

At the moment there was not enough oxygen in your lungs to give him a vocal response, you’d just nod, your cheeks flushed a pale pink. His hand moved to brush some hair away from your face, strands stuck to your cheeks, forehead, it was a sight for him. He’d pick you up, pulling you to sit in his lap as he held you to a tight embrace, nipping and kissing at your neck. He was so needy for you. 

______

The night had settled, only a bit. You found yourself tucked in Arthur’s arm with the warm quilt thrown on the hotel bed covering your bodies, both sore and spent.

Arthur had been flipping through the pages of his journal now, it only felt right to shamelessly show you the works he’s done of you now, of course those were only a couple.

“I stopped doin’ them for a while now… Most of them was from when I was drunk. Foolish.”

He’d explain, though it didn’t seem like it needed an explanation anymore, you didn’t care after all though you appreciated it. Your hand would reach out to touch the page, feeling the rough paper beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t mind…”

“Yeah well, maybe now you can model f’me, hm?… I’m always better working with a reference.”

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“It's a date then.”

You two had both fallen asleep shortly after, his sweet praises in your ear til your body was limp against his own, his fingers combing through your hair —a moment of intimacy and peace like this after he had fucked you so thorough. Not a thought of worry in your pretty little head.

 'Cept maybe how the ride back was gonna feel on that soreness between your legs– 

[wonnieluv]

Enhypen when they see you after you being apart for a long time

bf!Enhypen members x reader. warnings: none! just down bad enha boys missing the crap out of reader

Heeseung

Heeseung would envelope you in the most tightest. Not the kind where you’re gripping each other real tight but the kind of hug where you just feel so secure. Like not even the strongest wind could knock you out of his embrace

He’d kiss your forehead and just hold you for a solid few minutes as you just bathe in each other’s presence mumbling small I missed you’s and I love you’s into your ears as you inhale his scent. It’s such a healing moment and any pain, exhaustion or stress you had weighing on you didn’t seem to matter anymore because all that mattered was that you two were together

Jay

Jay would be counting down the days to being able to see you again. You two probably have one of those countdown’s on your lock screen or something. The moment you open the door for him when he knocks, you nearly tackle him over as he drops everything in his hands to hug you

Once you let go of each other, you walk in your door hand in hand. He sets his stuff down and you both immediately snuggle up on the couch maybe with a cup of wine or some tea. You rest your head on his chest as he tells you all about what him and the members have been up to and some of the exciting things they have coming up. You eventually turn on the TV and pop in some cheesy rom-com that you both love. There hasn’t been a more perfect moment. The two of you cozied up on your couch, he runs his hand through your hair as you listen to his heartbeat. Needless to say your both asleep in each others arms long before the movie ends.

Jake

Jake is all giddy. No one within his close circle doesn’t know you’re coming. He probably sits and tells Layla all about how excited he is to see you and all the things you’ll do when he goes to visit his parents. When you finally do arrive he runs up and bear hugs you with the brightest smile on his face. Like his cheeks are probably aching with how hard he’s smiling. As you walk to the car hand in hand, he drives you back with his hand not leaving yours once on the drive home and he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you into his room and trapping you in a hug on his bed. He’s waited so long to hold you and now that he has the chance, he won’t be able to keep his hands to himself.

He’ll tell you about all the stuff he wants to do with you; the cafes he wants to visit, the late night walks with Layla, the places in Seoul he can’t wait to take you to. He’ll promise to take you to the HYBE building and show you around (maybe they’ll let you watch practice ;)). If you show more excitement to see another artist he may teasingly say that you can’t go anymore and he’ll be pouty and never leave your side if you guys actually go. The time you spend with Jake you’ll probably end up sleeping better than you ever have wrapped up in his arms

Sunghoon

Sunghoon may not immediately show it on his face, but he is so excited to see you. When he finally sees your face and sees you running towards him he’ll break out into the prettiest smile and immediately open his arms for you to run into. He’s probably trying to play it cool but in reality he’s trying not to combust from how happy he is. His giddiness immediately gets exposed the second he brings you around the members. ‘Hoon literally won’t shut up about you’ ‘y/n comes in a week, y/n comes in 4 days, y/n comes tomorrow, I see y/n in a coupon hours’ ‘I saw him kicking his feet and giggling when you guys texted last night’. Like they won’t let this poor man live.

When you guys get to be alone there may not be many words exchanged at first but you guys are just going about your business being more than content to be in each other’s presence. Whether he’s playing games, you’re doing your skincare, on your phones, cuddling in bed. Whatever y’all are doing there’s always a permanent smile on your face. But before you fall asleep you probably tease him a bit about how much the boys said he missed you just to seem him get all flustered.

Sunoo

You and Sunoo would FaceTime almost everyday when you were apart. You would be spilling tea, giving eachother updates on whatever has been going on (because he knows alllll of your friends and all of the gossip in your life), doing skincare together, or just exchanging quick words to each other to help cheer the other up.

When you finally are together again you immediately take over the bathroom for the most extensive home spa routine to ever exist. No one is interrupting and by the time you’re done, you’re going through your camera roll looking at all the goofy pics you took with your matching face masks and pajamas on and giggling to each other picking the perfect one that you can post on your story without showing his face. You guys put on the drama you agreed to watch together and spill any recent drama you’ve had yet to tell each other. Needless to say the entire evening is filled with soft giggles and sweet smiles shared between the two of you from the comfort of each others embrace in Sunoo’s room.

Jungwon

You know Jungwon is busy and he knows that you are as well so when you finally have the time to spend an evening at his place you had your bag packed a week in advance and made sure no one would get in the way. He gave you the code so you came to the dorm a bit early to surprise him when he got out of his schedule for that day. The second he walked through the door to see you in the living room his tense shoulders immediately relaxed and before you could even sit up to greet him he was laying on top of you. I’m not talking but ‘tackled into a hug on the couch’ type of thing, I’m talking the ‘there’s his body laying on top of you like a sack of potatos’ and he is not getting up.

When you finally do get him up you head of his room. After you convince him that you will in fact still be there when he’s done showering, he goes to wash up before catapulting himself into bed to lay on top of you again. You spend the next 30 minutes to an hour with his head on your chest combing your fingers through his hair as you exchange words about all the things you’ve been up to as you both slowly fade into unconsciousness holding each other. The next morning he will not let you go and you may have to get 2 of the members to pry him away from you when you have to go back home but it’s ok because you know that it won’t be long until you’ll be in each others arms again.

Ni-ki

Your texts with Riki mostly consist of daily updates and horrible memes exchanged between the two of you with some play fighting added to the mix. Even when you’re ‘arguing’ with each other he knows how to make you laugh and that does not change when you finally get to see him face to face again. He would probably pretend to not see you if you’re a lot smaller than he but when you start to get annoyed he pulls you into a hug and apologizes through his giggles.

The majority of the time you spend with each other consists of you two giggling over things you find on Twitter, taking silly goofy pictures of each other that you beg him to post on Weverse, him teasing you, you punching him for teasing you, him apologizing while laughing and the cycle repeats. By the time it gets to 1am you have settled in his room and he’s telling you goofy stories of things the members have done recently and you’re telling him about the things you’ve been up to recently with your friends (who he totally 100% remembers the names of) until the conversation fades as your breathing steadies and you both fall asleep with smiles on your faces. The rest of the time you’re staying with him consists of similar routines with maybe a late night run to the convenience store or some video games where Riki promises he’ll play fair but we all know he won’t with the biggest smile on his face.

[insidekatmind]

Meet my sister P.1-Jude Bellingham

Part.2, Part.3, Part.4

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

Federico Valverde had planned everything carefully. The dinner was set in a private room at one of Madrid's most exclusive restaurants. As a protective older brother, he had always had one goal in mind: to see his sister Y/N with someone who could truly match her energy. And Jude Bellingham seemed like the perfect candidate—at least on paper. Young, talented, ambitious.

But reality often has a way of derailing plans, and that evening was destined to be unforgettable for very different reasons than Federico had imagined.

---

You were seated at the table, impeccable as always. Your black dress, sleek and elegant yet bold, caught everyone’s attention. Your loose, glossy hair framed your face perfectly, and your radiant smile lit up the room. You were used to having everyone at your feet, but tonight, you were there only because your brother had insisted.

When Federico had asked you to meet Jude, you’d agreed out of curiosity. After all, you were intrigued to meet the so-called “phenomenon” he always talked about. But the moment the guy entered the room, with his air of confidence and slightly arrogant smirk, something inside you sparked—not admiration, but irritation mixed with a touch of challenge.

Jude sat down next to Federico without even glancing in your direction, which only added to your annoyance.

“Well, it seems someone forgot their manners,” you said, breaking the ice with your trademark sarcasm.

Jude finally looked up at you, his piercing eyes scanning you with a mix of curiosity and arrogance. “Ah, sorry. You’re the famous Y/N? Guess the descriptions were a bit exaggerated.”

Federico cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Jude, that’s my sister. Maybe start with something less provocative?”

But you weren’t the type to back down. “And you must be Jude, the prodigy. Funny, you seemed taller on TV.”

Federico put a hand over his face. “Great. You two are going to get along just fine.”

---

Dinner continued with a constant exchange of jabs between you and Jude. You couldn’t stop provoking each other, and though every word was laced with venom, there was a palpable energy between you.

“So, Jude,” you began, your tone sweet but dripping with irony, “what’s it like living in Vinicius’s shadow? Must be hard being second best.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smug grin making you want to throw your glass of wine in his face. “Interesting, coming from someone who calls herself an actress, singer, and model. You know what they say: those who do too many things don’t do any of them well.”

Federico coughed awkwardly, trying to intervene. “Okay, maybe we can talk about something less… heated?”

But you ignored your brother, fixing Jude with a smile that was both a challenge and a promise of revenge. “Oh, don’t worry, Jude. I’m a multifaceted artist. You, on the other hand? You just chase a ball around. But I’m sure it serves some purpose, right?”

“Yeah,” he shot back without missing a beat. “To make more money than you’ve ever seen.”

Federico sighed, throwing his hands up. “I give up. I’m going to the bathroom, and when I come back, I want you two to act like civilized human beings.”

The moment Federico left the room, you and Jude locked eyes, the fire of disdain burning brightly between you. Then he leaned slightly toward you, that infuriating smirk still on his lips.

“You’re not used to someone standing up to you, are you?”

“I’m not used to someone trying this hard,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

“You’re funny,” he said, his tone almost admiring. “Especially for someone who probably spends more time choosing Instagram filters than living in the real world.”

You laughed, the sound sweet but dripping with sarcasm. “And you’re predictable. Let me guess: you’ve got a line of girls worshiping you and an ego that takes up more space than your talent.”

“You like to talk, huh?” Jude leaned back in his chair, watching you with a challenging expression. “But I bet behind all this theatrics is someone who can’t stand not being the center of attention.”

You leaned closer to him, your eyes blazing with determination. “And I bet behind all this arrogance is just a boy who’s scared of never being enough.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then Jude’s grin widened. “You know what? I like you. You’re annoying, but at least you’re not boring.”

“Too bad I can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, but there was a spark in your eyes that you couldn’t deny.

Federico returned just then, looking at you both suspiciously. “Okay, what happened while I was gone? Did you two decide to call a truce?”

“Not exactly,” you and Jude replied in unison.

Federico sighed. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”

---

That night, you couldn’t have imagined that the spark of hatred between you and Jude would grow into something far more complicated. But in that moment, the only thing you knew for sure was that Jude Bellingham was the first person who had truly challenged you—and that intrigued you more than you cared to admit.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): explicit language, suggestive themes

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Part Five of Ink & Needle

You and Evie stake out 141 Ink. Amelia forms a plan. You and Ghost reunite.

Chapter Four // Chapter Six

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Sticky.

Sweaty.

Chest heaving.

Legs shaking.

And none of it the pleasant kind.

Your coffee is gone. It is somewhere down the street, splattered across the pavement, and likely creeping toward a storm drain. Whatever didn’t land on the ground spilled on you. It is in your hair. On your face. Smeared over the front of your coat.

The entryway floor of Amelia’s home is your refuge. You’re seated on the linoleum with your back against the door and legs outstretched in front of you. With shaking hands, you reach above your head to double-check the deadbolt. It’s locked, and yet it doesn’t smother the racing of your pulse.

How could it? You’re seeing things. Hallucinating. Who you saw simply isn’t possible. Of all the people in the world, how could it be him? How could it be Ghost? Your wraith. The man you took a risk on. The man who worshipped your body as if you were the only thing he’s ever wanted.

For a second time, you ran. Turned tail. Bolted.

Why? Why do you always run from everything? Why do you dart away the moment you start to get close? That’s the reality of your ineptitude to figure your shit out. When Ghost held you in his arms afterward, when those large, veiny hands of his caressed and squeezed your thighs, realization came charging toward you like a herd of stampeding animals. Yes, it was sex, but there were smaller moments—flashes of emotion—that you felt within yourself and radiating from him.

After it was done, you knew. The look of rejection and determination in his eyes when you glimpsed him through the cab’s rear passenger window only confirmed what you already understood. Your wraith claimed you in Riot Room’s green room. He branded you, inked your skin, took you within himself and then etched his essence into your flesh.

You told yourself in that moment that you would never be free of him.

And you were right. Unequivocally correct.

Not only did you run a second time, but he chased after you again. That realization is almost as earth-shaking as the fact that he’s just two streets over from Amelia’s home. Your wraith is within reach, and he still wants you, even after three goddamn years.

No, you say to yourself. It’s not possible.

Now you’re just making shit up to feel better. He can’t want you—can’t desire you after all this time. Ghost must have thought you were someone else, or he wants an explanation on why you left him hanging.

Is he someone who holds grudges? Will he threaten you like way he did that man who puts his hands on you?

I’ve killed men over less.

Unlikely. That wouldn’t make sense. While a pillar of darkness, with you, Ghost was anything but. The very idea of him being rough with you is immediately dismissed.

“Fuck,” you whisper at the ceiling. You blink rapidly and realize you’re crying.

One tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand. It’s the hand that held the coffee, and the sticky residue rubs against your skin, causing you to flinch away from your own touch.

Evie’s laugh startles you out of your stupor. You hear Amelia’s gentle chuckle as well. Their voices drift toward you from the direction of the kitchen. They can’t see you on the floor like this. You need to pull yourself together. Covering up the spilled coffee that stains your face and your clothes isn’t possible, but you can easily pass it off as a slip up. It’s these fucking tears you need to control.

As you shift forward in an attempt to try and drag yourself off the floor, the brown sack with the croissants scrunches under your fist. You glance down at it and wince. It’s smashed. Croissants are delicate, and they’re probably nothing but crumbs now.

You want to laugh but you’re afraid it might sound like you’re drowning. This entire situation is fucking awful. Ridiculous. You have no idea what to do about Ghost. And should you even care in the first place?

There is no debt owed. There are no strings with a hookup. Why are you spinning this idea that you are required to do anything about any of this? Ghost is not your responsibility, and a one-time hookup does not make you obligated to be his…anything?

The phantom of Ghost’s hands upon your thighs comes creeping up to the forefront of your mind. The slow drag of his fingers over your skin is so tangible that for a moment you almost believe that he’s really here, touching you, wanting to be closer.

Evie laughs again and that solidifies your resolve. You came to England for her. Evie’s husband is dead. He is in the ground and she is eight months pregnant. There is only you and Amelia here to take care of her. Evie is your priority.

Not Ghost.

Not your wraith.

“Fuck,” you repeat. Somehow, that one small word makes you feel a little better.

Peeling yourself off the linoleum is like removing a stubborn book cover sticker. It’ll either be perfect, or a straight up mess. You fall somewhere in between that spectrum.

As you enter the kitchen, Evie and Amelia don’t appear to notice you at first. They’re in deep conversation, and it isn’t until you’re nearly at the small breakfast table that they both realize you’re in the room with them. Evie’s stunning smile falters when her gaze falls on you. It’s a slow transition as she begins to take in your appearance.

Her eyes widen in concern. “What happened? Are you okay?” Evie starts to stand but you hold up a hand.

“I tripped,” you answer. It’s not exactly a lie. You did trip in your efforts to outrun your wraith.

Evie doesn’t need to know that information just yet, especially with Amelia sitting right there. You’ll have to tell Evie what happened, even though the very idea swirls the anxiety in your stomach around until you think you might puke what little coffee you did manage to consume before it met the pavement.

Evie settles back in the chair but the concern hasn’t left her face. “Hurt?”

Not physically.

“I’m fine,” you reply, setting the brown bag on the table. “But I’m a little worried for the croissants.”

Amelia grabs the bag and peers inside. “Oh dear. Well. At least you’re uninjured. That’s the most important thing.”

Using the table as a support, Amelia pushes up from her chair, and heads for the kitchen counter. Reaching into one of the cabinets, Amelia produces a large plate. Returning to the table, Amelia gently opens the bag and slides out the croissants onto the plate. An avalanche of broken golden pastry and crumbs follow.

You wince at the sight of the crushed croissants. “I’m going to change.”

Amelia arches an eyebrow. “Perhaps a shower?” She gestures toward your head, indicating the remains of the latte that have dried in the strands.

“That too,” you mutter, removing your coat and heading for the stairs.

After you shower out the coffee in your hair, you’re left with the final crushed croissant, and the rest of your day is spent making various phone calls on Evie’s behalf. By bedtime, you’re still working, but this time on actual paid work.

Evie sits up, propped against the headboard as she reads a book. You’re spread out at the end of the bed on your stomach, scrolling through emails.

“Evie?” you ask into the quiet.

“Yeah?” she replies, not looking up from her book.

You rest your chin on your elbow. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Evie marks her page in her book and sets it on the bedside table, resting one hand on her bulging belly. “What’s on your mind?”

Your work email pings and you briefly glance at it. Sighing, you turn back to Evie, ignoring the new email. After breakfast and the ridiculous amount of phone calls, you spent the rest of your time editing an instructional manual for a furniture company. The deadline is approaching, and you thought work might take your mind off the morning’s events.

But it didn’t. And your mind is still a swirling storm of anxiety that just won’t abate. You cannot stop thinking about Ghost and the intense look in his eyes when he realized it was you. The brief surprise became hardened determination, and that is what pushed you to bolt. Couple that with him chasing after you, and you’re an overflowing pot of boiling water.

Closing your work laptop, you push it to the side, sitting up until you’re fully facing Evie.

“Is it about this morning?” she asks softly.

How is this woman so goddamn intuitive? That kid isn’t going to get away with anything.

“Yes,” you reply slowly, drawing out the s a bit.

Her brows crease, and suddenly, Evie looks ready to fight God. “If someone hurt you—”

“No,” you say quickly, holding up both hands. “Stop. I’m fine. I’m just…” You trail off and then sigh heavily, rubbing your face with both hands as you try to figure out what it is you want to say.

Evie doesn’t speak. She waits until you’re ready.

Your hands drop to your lap. “I saw him this morning.”

Evie frowns. “Saw…him?”

You nod and lean forward a bit. “Him.”

Evie blinks, her lips parting slightly as her brain starts to piece the puzzle together. As it all starts to fall into place, Evie shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re having a laugh.”

Groaning, you throw yourself down on the bed, face-first. “I wish that I was,” you say, turning your head so your voice isn’t muffled.

“Are you sure it was him? Absolutely sure?”

“You don’t believe me.”

“That is not true,” says Evie with a bit of bite to her tone. “I’m just trying to process how it’s possible.”

“You and me both.”

Evie adjusts on the bed, and sits up a bit more. “But where did you see him? And more importantly, did he see you?” You wince, and Evie groans. “Tell me from the beginning. All of it. From the moment you left the house to when you returned. Every. Detail.”

Rolling onto your back, you tell Evie everything, all of it rushing out of you like water moving out of a tipped glass.

“Oh shit,” murmurs Evie as she absently rubs her belly.

“No kidding.”

“And it’s the same one from Riot Room? Ghost? That guy?”

You nod. “I am one hundred percent sure on that.”

Evie stares off into space for a few seconds while she absently rubs at the underside of her belly. She turns toward you abruptly as if yanked from her thoughts. “I need to see this man for myself.”

You bolt upright. “Absolutely not.”

Evie shrugs. “Then tag along if you’re that concerned.”

“That is not the point, Evelyn Green.” You throw one arm out to emphasize your point. “Ghost is in the past. We had sex—”

Evie interrupts. “According to you, it was,” she raises both hands, creating air quotes around the next words, “best sex you’ve ever had.”

“We had sex once,” you continue. “What more is there to say? I don’t need to dwell on him.”

Evie rolls her eyes. “Please. After that night, you changed. We all saw it. Even if none of us said anything to you at the time.”

You pause, pulling back a bit. “What do you mean?”

Evie sighs heavily. “I saw Ghost chase after you. I saw him standing on the curb. I saw him watching the cab drive off. And I saw your face when you turned away from staring at him.” Her head tilts to the side a bit. “The emotion on your face. It was like…it was like you knew you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“Evie—”

“Shut up and listen to me.” She takes a breath. “Sorry. It’s the hormones. I’ve been moodier lately.”

And your husband is dead.

Evie winces as she adjusts on the bed. “When we arrived back to the hotel from Riot Room, did you realize you were smiling like an idiot in love? I know who you were thinking about. You told us every detail in the cab. And as you talked, you couldn’t stop grinning.” Evie removes her hand from her belly to rub at her lower back.

You stare down at your hands.

“A man doesn’t chase after someone he doesn’t want. Then you tell me that this morning, he ran after you? It’s been three years, and he still tried to catch you.” Evie shakes her head. “What isn’t clicking here?”

You open your mouth and Evie points at you. “Don’t make an excuse. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then what’s your plan?” you sigh, playing with the hem of your shirt.

Evie’s lips purse and she taps the top of her stomach. “There’s a little café across the street. We can camp out. Watch the shop.”

“So we’re going to stalk him?” you ask skeptically.

“Yes!” Evie holds out a hand. “Give me your computer.”

Reluctantly, you do so. Evie rests it on her stomach. Opening it up, she starts clicking and typing away at the keyboard.

“What’s the name of the shop?” she asks without looking away from the screen.

“One-four-one ink,” you reply, scooting up beside her.

The tip of her Evie’s tongue is between her teeth. She taps away at the keyboard, entirely focused. She looks like Jade right now who always knows all the loopholes in finding shit out about people.

“Ha! Look at that.”

You lean closer and glance at the screen. You meet those dark eyes framed by pale eyelashes that look like halos. It’s Ghost on your computer screen. There is no doubt.

“That’s him,” you whisper.

Evie clicks through the various pages on 141 Ink’s website. Most of it contains information about services, ways to contact the shop, and a gallery of Ghost’s work. There is a very small “About” section that vaguely describes the start of 141 Ink, but nothing jumps out at you. It’s only two sentences worth of information. Other than that, the site is fairly normal.

All of this is right in front of you, and yet you still don’t have any additional information about this man. Ghost is just that. A ghost. A stranger. And yet, when you were in his arms, it felt so natural and comfortable.

Evie grabs her phone off the bedside table and opens Instagram. She enters 141 Ink into the search bar and taps on a result. She grins and hands you her phone. “Look at this. The guy has some serious talent.”

The photos and videos on 141 Ink’s Instagram are a lot more personal than the ones on the website. While many show pictures of completed piercings and tattoos, there are some that are much softer. Like the black German Shepard you noticed basking in the sun on the shop’s floor. There is a photo of him snoozing next to a waiting customer.

It’s personal. Sweet. And you can’t help but smile at it.

And Evie is right. Ghost is incredibly talented. Some of the work is simple and straightforward, but there are many more artistic pieces. They’re gorgeous, as if you’re looking into someone’s fever dream. The color, highlights, and dimension are all unnaturally realistic. Ghost certainly as an eye for this.

It’s such a strange thing to look at all this work, and think about Ghost. When you first met him, Ghost was a haunting shadow. A creature out of hell. Tattoo artists don’t have that same kind of aura to them. At the time, the possibility seemed out of the question. Ghost oozed danger, and you were certain he was going to snap the man’s neck who put his hands on you.

I’ve killed men over less.

It doesn’t make sense.

“Fine,” you finally concede. “We’ll scope the place out from the café across the street. But I am not talking to him.”

Evie rolls her eyes and laughs. “Sure thing.” She closes up your laptop and you take it from her, placing it on top of the nearby desk.

You slide in under the covers, and Evie returns to her book.

The following morning, you and Evie head for the little café across the street from 141 Ink. The sign outside the café says The Bird, and the logo is a blackbird on a branch. The inside is warm. Cozy. It’s early enough that you and Evie snag a corner table next to the window. Not knowing how long you’ll be there, Evie over orders as compensation for the server’s lost time.

When the food is delivered, the table is covered without a spare place to set anything down. It’s an absurd display, but Evie has money to spend, and the two of you will likely be here for several hours.

You fill up your coffee cup and the server tops off your mimosa glass. Evie stuffs her mouth full of pancakes. When the server turns around to leave, Evie grabs her backpack, digging around inside.

“Have some spy gear in there?” you joke, not expecting Evie to remove a pair of binoculars. You set your mimosa flute down on the table and cross your arms. “What is that?”

“It’s for research,” says Evie, shrugging her shoulders. She scans the café with narrowed eyes and then twists toward the window, holding the binoculars up to her face.

“I don’t know you,” you mutter, picking the flute back up to take a long sip. The bubbles in the champagne tickle your tongue, and you decide to swallow down the rest. It’s not like you’re driving. The two of you walked here.

Evie drops the binoculars from her face just as the server comes back to the table. You politely set the champagne flute down and the server uses their pitcher to refill your glass.

“Thank you,” you reply as they nod and turn to leave.

“What time does the shop open again?” asks Evie as she munches on a mouthful of pancake. “You said it was early.”

“It’s way past time now. I’m guessing the time I saw him wasn’t the actual opening time.”

Evie frowns and then holds the binoculars up to her face again. “I don’t see any movement inside.”

“This is absurd,” you say, waving your hand in the air.

“Wait!” Evie lowers the binoculars and you glance out the window.

Your eyes narrow slightly, gaze focusing in on the door of 141 Ink. There is movement. A shadow. A brief pause, and then, the door is opening.

Ghost is standing right there in the doorway as he guides the doorstop with the toe of his sneakers. He wears black joggers, a black t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie that’s open in the front. The hood is down but he’s wearing his signature balaclava. Beside him, the German Shepard appears momentarily before disappearing back inside.

Evie sighs appreciatively. “He is so large. Was he like that when the two of you hooked up? I never really got a good look at him.”

Maybe it’s the space between you and Ghost that makes you feel safe in your observation of him. He is the same, perhaps a bit softer in a few places where the muscles aren’t nearly so defined anymore, but you couldn’t really say for sure. From this distance, Ghost appears the same, but then again, you didn’t actually see all of him.

“He hasn’t changed,” you answer. “Not that I can tell.”

Evie chews around some pancake and then swallows. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Absolutely not, Evelyn Green.”

Evie points her fork at you. “Listen, bitch.”

“Evie,” you hiss, glancing around the café to see if anyone heard.

“I am trying to help you,” she says simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to go talk to this man. “And since you’re not going to do it. I’m going.” Evie stands up and cradles her belly, nearly waddling to the door.

“Evie,” you call out, but she ignores you.

You watch in horror as Evie crosses the street and strolls up to the open door of 141 Ink. She knocks on it, waves—likely at Ghost or the dog—and then steps inside. You itch to reach across the table and snag the binoculars to see what Evie is up to in there.

“Oh my god,” you murmur to the air, tossing back the rest of your mimosa.

Several minutes later, Evie reappears in the doorway, and you sigh with relief. But when she steps outside, Ghost follows her. He offers her his arm, and she takes it. The black German Shepard stands guard in the doorway as Ghost escorts Evie to the edge of the road.

When Ghost glances to the left, Evie looks up, sees you, and eagerly points at him with a big grin on her face. Ghost glances to the right, then the left again, before helping Evie across the road. When they make it to the sidewalk, they keep walking as Evie gestures at the door to the café.

Ghost opens the door for her, and when Evie steps inside, her grin is downright smug when she notices you. You can’t run this time. There is no escape from this.

“Thank you,” says Evie as she slides into her seat, her hand on her belly.

“People drive fast on that road,” he replies.

Ghost turns to leave and freezes when he sees you sitting there. You watch as his pupils dilate. Science says that when human eyes dilate like that, it’s because they see someone they love. It’s also a sign of the biological need to reproduce. And you’re watching it happen in real time with Ghost.

Your mouth does not form words. Instead, you simply stare, and Ghost stares back.

Ghost blinks and then he’s almost shaking his head like he’s not sure of where he is. “Enjoy your meal,” he says.

Your gaze drops, noticing the way his hands clench and unclench. You’ve seen him do it before. At Riot Room. When he hesitated in the seconds before touching you.

Ghost exits through the door, and your gaze follows him. He pauses right outside The Bird’s large window. Ghost pushes up his balaclava to his nose and lights a cigarette.

You follow him out the door where he pauses to push up his balaclava and light a cigarette. Then he’s jogging across the street, leaning against his tattoo shop to smoke. Ghost is looking directly at you, and you cannot stop staring back.

Those dark eyes are stones that crush your bones, and no one can pull you from your torment expect him.

It isn’t until he puts his cigarette out and goes inside his shop that you release a deep sigh. Turning back to Evie, you groan at the sight of her feral grin.

“How could you?”

Her grin only widens. “You’re going to be thanking me once you talk to him.”

“What did you say to him?” you ask, exasperated. Evie shrugs, and stuffs more pancake into her mouth, saying nothing. “Evelyn Green, I swear to God.”

Evie stuffs another mouthful of pancake into her mouth. The server reaches out to snag an empty plate and you address them, needing something strong. “Can you leave the mimosa pitcher?”

“Sure,” she laughs, bringing it back a minute later. You immediately pour yourself another glass and stare down at your own breakfast which is entirely untouched.

Evie points to your plate with her fork. “Are you going to eat that?”

“No. I’m getting drunk instead.”

The moment you and Evie return home, Amelia is already in the kitchen with a kettle on for tea.

“How was breakfast?” asks Amelia as she starts setting everything out on the table.

“Amazing!” beams Evie, nearly bouncing on her toes.

“Fine,” you reply, voice monotone.

Evie grabs your arms and gives it a good shake. “We should tell Amelia.”

“Absolutely n—”

You don’t even get your words out before Evie is charging forward. “Do you want to hear who we ran in to at breakfast?”

“Amelia doesn’t need to hear that.”

“Hush,” says Evie, waving you off. “Amelia, are you familiar with the tattoo parlor just a street or two over. Across from the café we went to?”

Amelia nods. “Oh, yes. I’ve chatted with the young man that owns it. Very nice. Very,” Amelia holds her arms wide. “Large. Those muscles on him always impressed me.”

Evie grins and you slouch into a seat. “During my bachelorette party, this one ran off with him for a bit.” Evie points at you over her shoulder.

Amelia tilts her head slightly in confusion and Evie makes a gesture with her hands replicating intercourse.

“Oh,” laughs Amelia, turning in your direction. “Did you?”

The kettle shrieks and Amelia takes it off the burner, carrying it over to the little table, setting it down on a neatly folded towel. Evie takes a seat to your left while Amelia sits across from you.

“I need every detail.” Amelia starts assembling the tea and you slouch further in the chair.

You leave out the act itself, not wanting to detail to Amelia exactly how good Ghost was in that green room.

“And you ran from him?” ask Amelia slowly.

“Twice!” says Evie and Amelia shakes her head in disappointment.

“It’s done,” you reply sharply. “It’s in the past. We need to let this go. I need to let this go.”

Amelia leans back in her chair. “This sounds like a second chance to me. Why don’t you go talk to him? At least find a bit of closure.”

Evie places her elbows on the table. “Or get it on in the tattoo parlor.”

“That too,” nods Amelia.

The alcohol sits heavy in your stomach. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Suit yourself, but tomorrow we’re all going to the pub. On Sunday’s I go to the Dancing Faun. The owner always puts on American baseball on the telly for me.”

“You watch American baseball?” you ask skeptically.

“Oh, yes.” She leans forward as if she’s passing on a secret. “It’s the uniforms.”

Evie cackles, and you roll your eyes.

The next day, near lunchtime, you, Evie, and Amelia all head to the Dancing Fauna. It’s on the same street that The Bird and 141 Ink are on. Amelia assured the both of you that it’s usually an older crowd and that people around your age typically don’t venture inside unless everything else is packed.

Which means you won’t see Ghost. You can cure your headache with more alcohol and call it good.

The outside of Dancing Faun is a deep, forest green with gold accents. The door is solid black. Amelia pushes on it and Evie follows behind with you bringing up the rear. It’s fairly dark inside. The only light comes from a few hanging lamps above the bar and along the wall. Several televisions display various sports including rugby and soccer.

“Amelia! Usual spot?”

You glance to the right and notice the bartender. He’s roughly middle-aged, likely leaning toward the higher end of forty.

“You know it, Ben,” replies Amelia.

“Already have it on. And you brought guests.” Ben’s voice is gruff but his smile is kind.

“Just the two. And only one is drinking.” Amelia gestures at Evie. “This one will need some tea and perhaps something to eat?”

Ben nods and wipes his hands with a bar towel, already moving into action.

Your gaze takes in the rest of the bar. There are only three people taking up seats. Two sit close to each other but with one chair between them. The third person is at the end of the bar, closest to the door and what looks like an entryway that leads to a flight of stairs and perhaps a back room.

As you focus on the man sitting at the end of the bar, you squint, confused at first. Then you notice the black German Shepard snoozing at his feet on the floor. Then the man is turning toward you, his balaclava pushed up to his nose, a beer glass lifting toward his mouth.

He stops. You stop.

Ghost is here. Your wraith. Yet again, the two of you are meeting in unexpected places.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Looking away quickly, you stare at the back of Evie’s head, following Amelia as she starts to introduce you to everyone in the pub. You smile when prompted, but you hear nothing of what is being said. You sense Ghost’s gaze on your back, and the very idea of his eyes on you sends a rippling heat of pleasure down your spine.

It’s not right. It’s not fair. Your body is betraying you.

Amelia turns and you follow her, nearly clinging to Evie in your desperation. Amelia pauses and introduces you and Evie to the two men sitting next to each other at the bar. Then you’re right in front of Ghost and Amelia is beaming at him.

“This is Simon,” she says casually. “Runs the tattoo parlor just a few shops down. He’s the only young one we allow around here.” Amelia grins and you want to flee all over again.

Ghost—or rather, Simon’s—gaze is fixated on you. Unmoving.

Amelia pats your shoulder. “I know the two of you know each other, but it’s been a while. How about you two catch up and Evie and I will go enjoy the game.”

“Amelia—”

“Sit,” insists Amelia, quickly ushering Evie away.

You’ve been betrayed.

Slowly, you sink down on the stool next to Simon—Ghost? What should you call him now?

“What will it be?” asks Ben, his gaze expectant.

“I’ll take whatever he’s drinking.” Ben shrugs and grabs a glass, filling it up before sliding it over to you. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Ghost sits up straighter, and shifts in his stool. He keeps one arm on the bar top, but the other rests against his leg, his hand poised on his knee. Your knee is touching his, and the very tips of his fingers brush against your jeans.

You have all his attention, that is very apparent.

“Hello,” you say weakly, unsure of where to begin.

“Hello,” he replies, and the sultry purr in his voice breaks something in you.

There is no going back.

Ghost—Simon? Is all there is.

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[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What is your hidden talent?

Hey, everyone! It would be super helpful if yall donated to my CashApp. I want to do this kind of work full-time. I have been told by people I read for that I am meant to do tarot reading. I am inclined to believe them because fr it has been so fun for me to see how much it helps yall. Way more fun than any retail/food industry job I've had. I feel like I am actually doing something substantial with my time. If yall want me to be able to continue to do this daily it would be so awesome if yall donated. Thank you guys in advance!

Donate to my CashApp Here

The decks I am using today are The Tarot of the Divine, Believe in You Own Magic Oracle and The Healing Waters Oracle. Take everything that resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences.

___________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Leo, Virgo, Scorpio

Song: I Set Fire To The Rain by Adele

Vibes: Teal, green, yellow/gold, shear white cloth, smelling smoke, burning house, swimming, mixed drinks, hot chocolate, braided hair, locked doors, house plants, deep skin tone, 888, shells, feathers, crayons, colored hair, ares

Cards: 2 of Wands, 9 of Cups, 5 of Wands, Mural, Gold, Cleansing, Into the Unknown

Welcome in, pile 1! You have two hidden talents. One that you use rather regularly but unknowingly and the other you have yet to unlock. The energy I am getting from the cards makes me think the two talents are intertwined. ALSO Trigger Warning for abuse in this reading. It is VERY HEAVY. Do not read if you do not think you are ready.

The first hidden talent is starting new from the ground up. I know to you it might not sound that interesting. You have no idea how hard it can be to start new things for others. Starting from the ground up is scary and intimidating. Organizing the chaos in your mind and project that chaos clearly into reality. I see you are probably an artist of some kind. You might paint, make clay sculptures, or hand-make intricate jewelry of some kind. I see you learned to hone this ability because of a karmic relationship. They made you feel adored and cherished until you were in their grasp. When you were trapped with them, they turned on you. It's giving love bombing. This person literally blew up on you over the smallest things. I see a shattered tea/coffee cup. You stayed with them for a long time even though you knew what they were doing was wrong. You had to completely shred the life you had with them. You had to start your life from scratch. Which is why you are so used to the idea of starting with nothing and building up. The pain that you felt from that past connection still hurts you to this day. You probably have PTSD from the situation you were in. I am so sorry you had to go through all that. You didn't deserve to be treated like that.

The second hidden talent is transmutation. I see that the reason you haven't unlocked it yet is because you fear change. What happened to you in that shitty relationship makes it way easier for you to start over than to change the situation. You are scared to see things to the end. I see that this fear reveals itself in your artwork. You probably have many unfinished projects because you view yourself as incapable of seeing them through. Which by the way isn't true you are so capable of anything you want to do. Heal the hurt part of you that thinks you are incapable. Your ex was the one who instilled that in you. Don't let that motherfucker get you down. Especially if they aren't in your life anymore. Don't let them have that power over you, love. You deserve to feel good. Face your fear of them being right. You and I both know they aren't. When you do unlock this ability you will be able to transmute all the pain that asshole put you through into beautiful art. You will be able to finish all of those unfinished projects. You will be able to find true love within yourself. You will find that you were never broken like that bitch said you were. You were always lovely, sweet, and accommodating. You were always creating love everywhere you went.

_______

PILE TWO

Astrology: Sagittarius, Gemini, Pisces

Song: I Love Rock n Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Vibes: Navy Blue, white, peach, deer, horses, libraries, books, coffee, hot springs, scones, pillow forts, maxi-skirts, cowboys, mermaids, 333, wine, fine dining, tall trees, athena, artemis

Cards: The Hermit, 3 of Wands, Knight of Swords, Nostalgia, Stars, Water Codes, The Healing Lagoon

Hello, pile 2! You have one secret power but trust me it's a good one. You have the ability to pull information out of thin air. You are crazy smart. People might not think it when they look at you because you try not to flaunt it too wildly. You prefer to stay under the radar when it comes to intellect. This makes people underestimate you. I feel that some of yall reading like this for various reasons but others really fucking hate it. You have some insecurity around this skill. That's why you don't think it is a good skill tbh. You think a lot on the go even while in conversation which makes people see you as kind of ditzy. Even so, you absolutely obliterate at trivia night. Your friends come to you first when they need obscure information. You might have been a really lonely kid and spent a lot of your time reading away the time. For a big chunk of your childhood you found your companionship in novels. You may have been bullied for this. Don't let those people's words get you down. Honestly, they were just jealous of your intelligence. The friends you have now love to hear you infodump about your favorite books. They love to hear everything you know about sea creatures and astrology/astronomy. They ask questions not to mock you but because they genuinely are interested in what you have to say. You are magnificent. Your mind is unparalleled. How people perceive you has nothing to do with what is actually happening in your mind. It is just their projections of themselves onto you. Ignore them lmao. <3

________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Cancer, Taurus, Libra

Song: Stay by Zedd

Vibes: All shades of blue, creeks, hanging flowers, 9999, faires, watermelon, paint-brush, rabbits, bird chips, car horn, pearls, lily pads, walking in the rain, lanterns, puppies, beaches, zues

Cards: Queen of Cups, Page of Cups, Ace of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, Raindrops, Stagnant Waters, Light House

My dear pile 3, welcome to your reading. You have a hidden ability that I feel is only hidden from you. Everyone else seems to know this about you. You have the power of hospitality and refuge. You are a safe place for everyone you know to come to if they need it. You are the type of person to tell everyone you know if they need a place to stay for any reason, all they gotta do is ask. You have a motherly energy about you, even if you aren't a woman. You always have emergency snacks for occasions like that. You host parties and everyone always leaves feeling 10 times better than when they arrived. You are the friend that lends a hand when needed. You the kind of person to have a shoulder ready for anyone to lean on, even if you don't know them well. The most beautiful thing about this is that these actions are never self-sacrificing. You have an abundance of all that you need so you can be generous constantly to those in need. I see you resting when necessary and listening to your body. I see you volunteering in your community. I think recently you helped clean up a beach or something. Maybe you organized it? Your energy is so soothing. You are just amazing, my friend. Absolutely the softest heart on earth. I also see you might foster animals! You take in rescue animals and nurse them back to health until they can find a forever home. ;n; You are the definition of an earth angel. Please see how amazing you are and how big your heart is. I wanna be your friend so bad from hearing all of this. Never stop being this beautiful of a soul, my dear. You are perfect.

_________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Aries, Capricorn, Aquarius

Song: Black Girl Magic by Londrelle

Vibes: Cyan, yellow, rusty red, iridescent, sake, 4c hair, magic, spell casting, curse breaking, singing, tea, pottery, steam-train, festivals, celebration, 963, small forests, mercury/hermes, lambs, Oshun

Cards: The Star, Ace of Cups, 2 of Cups, 6 of Swords, 7 of Wands, Tower, Spaceship, Thank You

PILE 4, WOW. Welcome. Your energy is just sooo woah. You are so indescribable. All that you have been through. Everything you have seen. All I can say is, wow. Your secret power is balance. It is a well-earned hidden ability. You have been through so much to gain the skills that I see in this reading. You have traveled so far. When I first looked at the reading I could not pin down exactly what skill you had because you are just so good at EVERYTHING. I legitimately out loud said, "Everything??? Everything." You know how to take care of yourself. You are an excellent lover. If you are a parent you are good at that too. You are chasing your dreams. I see you performing as a singer or a musician and your talent stuns everyone in the room. You are the best manifester in a 20 miles radius. You are a witch for sure. You have worked so hard on breaking karmic familial curses and you succeeded. You succeeded far past your soul's initial expectations. You are everything, my love. Like literally everything. Then it hit me. You are a tightrope walker. You are balancing everything perfectly. Have you ever heard of Rock Cairns? They are stacks of rocks that hikers add to as they pass by on park trails. You have turned your life into something like that. You have perfectly balanced every stone you passed in your life in a pile and you manage it all on your own. First off, I want to tell you what a good job you are doing. What a good job you have been doing since you were born. Second thing, PLEASE REST WHEN YOU NEED IT OHMYGODS. You don't need me to tell you that though. You are probably smoking a joint right fucking now while reading this or you just got done doing that. No notes, baby. You got this. I just think Spirit wanted to remind you of your magnificence.

[ssivinee]

✧Magic Spell✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x Jam Republic! F Reader: Jam Republic was probably the most anticipated group of this season of street woman fighters. With the season going international, you find yourself being a part of the talented group. While battling, you catch someone else's attention, the famous Bada Lee.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: The events aren't accurate to the actual show and were tweaked to fit the storyline.

Note: The reader is Korean, Tongan (Tonga), and Cuban. It's a little fast-paced.

Character Vision Board

All the groups were seated in their respective recording areas, and in front of them was a TV, where all the crews were about to be introduced.

When every crew watched, everyone felt the exciting atmosphere really come to life. The vibes heightened once more as Jam Republic was introduced.

Jam Republic decided to send a team that would represent other women worldwide. Choosing the members Kristen Dodgen, Ling Zhang, Latrice Kabamba, Y/n Ramos, Emma Huch, and Audrey Lane.

Everyone checked out the information of each member, but everyone couldn't help but stare at Y/n's long list of achievements. You began as an underground dancer and competed in several competitions, winning about 95% of them, before entering the world of choreography.

Through several YouTube videos, you became well-known for your b-girling, house dance, and bone-breaking specialty. When continuing down the list, it showed the several artists you've worked with. Big names like Usher, Beyonce, Normani, Bruno Mars, and Ne-yo were just a few of those names.

You were the third youngest on the team, yet your triumphs showed your thorough background in the dance scene. At 23, you were known worldwide for your work and skills, even being popular amongst the general public.

They began to show some of your videos, and some dancers couldn't help but be in awe of you.

So when the day finally came, and everyone had to film together, the crews went in anticipating the impressive performances they'd get to see.

You and the girls entered the building with a bright energy and all smiles. "This is so exciting," Audrey squeals, and you pinch her cheek due to her adorableness. You made your way up the stairs. Linked arms with the youngest, with a similar vibe in your outfit choices.

The group makes their way to the hot pink room and waits for their call. As you wait, you check your outfit, rotating your body often and posing.

"You look amazing. Stop worrying so much," Latrice says as she pats your hip. "Dude, I'm just so pumped right now," You tell them with much adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jump every so often.

"Is anyone excited to meet a dancer?" Emma asks, chilling comfortably on the couch. Audrey says, "Definitely wanna see Tsubakill."

"Bebe is fire, though," Kristen tells the girls, and you nod.

"They have a youthful energy you wanna bounce to," you state, fond of the team full of younger dancers. When you sat with the rest of your girls, watching through every team's choreography, Bebe was the one that caught your attention. The filming of their crew preview video, the outfits, and the high teen energy sparked something in you. They looked like they enjoyed the dance and had terrific chemistry, which made you happy. You almost couldn't stop grinning as you watched them.

Before you can even continue the conversation, all of you get startled by the loud bass of the TV, signaling them to enter the fight zone. They began to walk out, and as Kristen led them through the corridor, they stopped at the entrance and looked amazed at the setup.

Making it down the stairs, everyone's eyes were on Jam Republic, and you couldn't help but roam your eyes around. You didn't make it that far because you couldn't look away as soon as you locked eyes with Bada Lee.

You give her a kind grin, and she gladly returns one.

Walking past some of the crews, you heard many whispers.

"Wha~ Kristen is really here."

"Their vibes are totally unmatched."

"Jam being here is actually crazy."

Everyone's eyes then linger on you and Audrey. Your pretty faces shocked many of them. Bada can only look at the two in astonishment, "Audrey and Y/n are so pretty."

Other comments like you two looking like princesses or angels could be heard through each crew's murmurs. Yet none of the Jam Republic girls were fazed.

You then watched the video that provided unwanted comments as you stood at the center. Most of the words targeted Kristen, but they sure left you and Audrey with a bitter taste in your mouths.

"Audrey is a baby. She can just sit there, look pretty, and do nothing."

"Many people praise Y/n's skills, but I believe most people watch her just to see her pretty face."

"I wanna say I'm proud that Y/n is famous as she's half Korean, but I feel we've been let down by her. She's lost her touch after a while."

Your eyebrows raise at the comment, and you can't help but sneer.

"Lost your touch?" Ling questions as the same confusion lingers in the mind of your entire crew. You chuckle a bit as you begin to see the no-respect stickers.

Kristen had two, while you and Audrey were evenly split with five. Audrey, who stood beside you, raised her two thumbs in happiness, and you gave her a high five. You understood what she was feeling right now. You two had mandatory battles to show your abilities.

"I don't really get it. You're one of the greatest battlers out there, and they decide to comment those things?" Emma whispers to you, but you smile, "I guess I'm just gonna have to prove them otherwise."

As you stay seated, paying attention to the announced judges and host, Audrey nudges you slightly, 'We're gonna kill it out there."

"You're damn right we are."

As you listened, your eyes traveled to your left, and you saw Bada, who was paying close attention. The younger girls on her team seemingly notice and whisper to her, causing Bada to look back at you with seduction.

You weren't one to back down either, so you focused on her, inviting the flirtatious look as you unconsciously bit your lower lip, unaware of how sensual it looks on Bada's end. Bada looks at you up and down, pleased by your reaction with a sly grin on her face, and returns to paying attention to Kang Daniel as he speaks.

"And now, what the hell was that?" Emma asks you playfully, and the girls can't help but turn their attention to you. "What? She's hot," you shrug, and they can't help but just laugh at you.

"Wait, who?" Kirsten asks, a little confused, and Emma just says, "Bada."

"I can't blame you, though," Emma comments, and you giggle, knowing how much of an effect Bada seemingly has on many of the women in the studio.

"Well, if you are done silently flirting, please pay attention," Latrice gives you a joking glare as you give her a mini salute.

Before battles commenced, everyone was told to get changed and be ready in 10 minutes.

You tell the girls to head out because you need to reply to someone's message, but suddenly, you hear a knock on your door.

"Come in," You say and see Bada's face peaking through the door. She smiles at you, "Am I interrupting you?"

"Oh, of course not. Please, come in and sit." You pat the seat right next to you, slightly adjusting your hat as you do so. You two sit down, and Bada introduces herself properly, "I'm Bada Lee of Bebe. I'm actually a fan of yours."

"That's so sweet. Well, Miss Bada, I'm Y/n Ramos," You shook each other's hands, "So, biggest and trendiest choreographer right now, huh?"

"I can say the same thing about you."

"I'm not too sure about that. Everyone on my TikTok was dancing to Rover, while I haven't seen many do my dances," you joke.

"It's because your choreos are advanced. I work in a world where the dance has to be a trend, so it appeals to the Kpop audience."

"I've noticed that in Kpop too. It's admirable, you know? Being able to have so many fans dance something you made."

You two loved the conversation's comfort, even teasing each other about wearing hats, but the moment was cut short as the staff began calling everyone back onto the set.

"Let's continue later?" Bada asks, and you nod as you approach the fight zone together. Both of your respective groups were teasing you two as soon as you took a seat.

As they began rolling the cameras, we headed straight into battles.

Redy of 1Million was called up first, and as she picks, she walks around, teasing to pick someone from Deep N Dap, but makes a fast 180 turn and chooses Bada instead.

"Redy, do you have anything to say to Bada?"

"I just don't respect you," She tells the taller girl right to the point.

"Not Redy, Soobin-ah, you're still an 8th grader to me," you gasp at the roast, and a light chuckle comes out. Ling looks at you confused and asks what happened and when you tell her the exact translation she audibly gasps, "That's gotta burn man."

"After hearing that back story, I'd be pissed at Bada too," you say, making her laugh. Redy began first, and while you watched, you felt it was a bit messy and failed to captivate you.

When it was Bada's turn, you watched her intensely. She grooved and taunted the younger girl, making her dance entertaining. You found yourself making a face of surprise, not expecting Bada to be so confident in battle as she was known to be an avid choreographer.

Nearing the end, you two make quick eye contact, and with a smirk, Bada takes a paper in her mouth and blows it in Redy's face. "That made her ten times hotter," you groaned, amazed, and Emma chuckles after hearing your statement, smacking your leg due to you being silly again.

You sat there, watching some of your teammates go up several times before you, making you itch to dance.

Audrey was the first in your crew to be called, even being chosen by two dancers immediately. You were never worried about your youngest, though. She had one of the most unique styles of dance in your eyes. Every move she made, you cheered or had faces of disgust, enjoying every move of Audrey's freestyle.

Then, you were on an emotional roller coaster on Kirsten's several turns. During these moments, you came to see who, from each crew, would be a formidable opponent to your team.

Emma then went on stage, and it was the loudest you cheered. Due to the similar specialties you and Emma had, you unconsciously hype her dance up with the same amount of energy. Bada watches you, adoring the faces you make each time your team is up.

She noticed everything about you: the side tilts your head did when Monika showed two team cards instead of one, the little tap your feet made when you got nervous about the winner of specific battles, your large jumps when you got hyped over a move. She was expecting you to be one of the calmer ones on your team, but after some thinking, it was probably because you were on the younger side of your team.

Bada knew well that when younger dancers worked in a team with older ones, their inner child came out much more often. You clearly had close relations with each of your members, appreciating everything about them, even when they lost.

Soon, it was the turn of Deep N Dap's Minny Park to choose her no-respect dancer.

"I choose Jam Republic's Y/n," You jumped off your seat, feeling more energized than ever. "Minny-nim, why did you pick Y/n as a no-respect dancer?"

"She's rusty, and I'm gonna prove that."

Many people enjoyed the laugh, and you responded, "Don't worry, I oiled up for the show." People go crazy at your clapback, and as you give Kristen your mic, the music begins for Minny.

"Let's go Minny!"

"Show her how it's done!"

The encouragement of her team gave Minny an impressive start. She starts by posing to the song's beats and looks at you with eyes of determination.

You watched very closely, staying calm and composed. That was the version of you that Bada expected. Seeing your new sides made her want to know you even more.

Minny was good, you'll give her that. She had a sassiness to her that carried the energy of her moves. She even added provoking dance moves which had you nodding your head occasionally. However, no matter how much credit you give her, you would provide her with a fight, and it would be a beat down.

"3! 2! 1! Switch!"

The music began to change, and you heard "Beggin'" by Madcon, which excited you. You said, "Perfect," telling yourself that you'd win with this song, no problem.

"Oh, she's gonna eat this song up," Latrice tells the crew, having pure faith in her best friend.

"Come on, Y/n!"

"Show them how battling is done, girl."

You start with grooving in the beginning, and as soon as you hear the first, 'I'm beggin' ~,' you give a pout as you kneel with praying arms to Minny. As the beat builds up, you smirk and hit a one-armed handstand freeze, then remove your arm quickly to do a small headspin.

You tutted, with some bone-breaking, and led into getting more in Minny's personal space. You see Bada's from your peripheral, whose jaw literally means dropped. You smirk and decide to give her more of a show.

Your hips rotated, and you swayed your ass to show more variety. As you drop to the floor dramatically on your knees, you grind your hips forward before going into a 1990 to Windmill. As the music subdues, you just end with a slight spin.

Everyone was already wild as it was, but they all gave you a standing ovation. Your face goes into a pout as it warms your heart.

"Judges, please reveal your votes," Kang Daniel signals, and you sigh in relief to see the 3 pink cards. Your team jumps and cheers excitedly for you as you bow at the 3 judges.

All the judges still stare at you in shock, and only Monika finds the words.

"I'm here to be as truthful as possible, and I can proudly say with my chest that battle was the most entertaining thing I've seen in a while. Minny, you are terrific, and if you picked anyone else in this room, you had a higher chance of winning. But Y/n is just on another planet."

Monika gets a bit passionate and decides to stand up, "As professional dancers, we know how difficult freestyling is. It's a completely different mind game than choreographing. Y/n tutted, b-boyed, did bone-breaking AND theatrics? If I could give you an award right now, I would." You bowed with your hand over your heart at the high praise and returned to your team.

Before returning, your eyes meet Bada's, whose face is still the same. You find it amusing, letting out a laugh with a wink, causing Bada to get all flustered.

After a few more battles, you were all given a 30-minute break, so after a bathroom break, you took advantage of the time and went to the lobby of the building, taking in the silence as you rested on the blue velvet chair.

You sip on your ice-cold water and observe your surroundings until you see the tall woman coming down the stairs, giving her a small wave.

"What're you doing down here?" She questions, taking a seat in the velvet chair right beside you. "I needed to get away from the noisiness. Besides, it's nice and cold down here."

"I can agree with that."

"I honestly need to know how you move like that when you dance."

You giggle at the older's comment, "A lot of training and stamina. I wasn't even that flexible back in the day. I stretched daily to get my body to where it's at now."

She only nods, appreciating the fact you shared your efforts with her to become a better dancer.

You two let the silence engulf you until Bada decides to get daring. "You were so hot out there."

Your eyebrow raises, and you smirk. "I'm hot? I could say the same about you, Miss Bada. Whenever I make eye contact with you, I can never look away until you do. It's like you've cast a spell on me," You lean closer to Bada.

She does the same, her eyes traveling to your lips and eyes, "Me? Spell? Maybe you did that to me?" Bada leans in closer, the tension between the two of you rising quickly, and now the two of you feel your breaths hitting your lips. "I don't think you understand what you do to me. You have my hands clammy, face heated, heart racing? I wanna know how you're doing this to me."

Staring at each other, you had an idea and gave Bada a little peck before running away into one of the empty rooms, giggling as you heard Bada gasp and chase after you.

As you got into the room, you tried to shut the door, but Bada beat you to it and was able to stick her foot in, causing the door to open. She comes in and closes the door softly behind her, and smirks, walking over to you.

"You're actually gonna be the death of me," Bada tells you, hooking her fingers around the waistband of your pants and pulling you into her. Leaning down, she pulls you into another much longer and loving kiss. Pulling away, her forehead still stays connected to yours.

"How about I take you out later tonight, Miss Ramos?"

You kiss her on the cheek with a cute smile, "I'd love that, Miss Lee."

[bteezxyewriter12]

Play with Me

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.6k

Includes- Interrupted masterbation, masturbation, brief blow job, pussy eating, cum eating, voyeurism (Boys listen to them through door), missionary, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

“Fuck, yeah”, I moan, sitting in my computer chair

I stare at the picture on my phone, while my hand moves up and down on my cock

The picture is one of the pictures Joanne posted on her Instagram

She’s so fucking hot and beautiful

I’ve wanted her since I first saw her five years ago

She’s BTS’ makeup artist and she became one of our best friends

It doesn’t help that she’s downstairs somewhere

The clothes she’s wearing today, fuck

She doesn’t normally dress that way

I love any kind of clothes she wears

But today…

She’s wearing skin tight skinny jeans and a fucking tight crop top

Her gorgeous stomach is all on display with her tattoos and fucking sexy as hell belly button piercing

Her beautiful cleavage is all out because of the v-neck style of her shirt

Her ass is fucking perfect in those pants

I’d usually be downstairs, just drooling over her but I couldn’t take it

I had a hard on since she walked in two hours ago

I just had to leave and jerk off or I was going to die

It’s not just sex

I really like her a lot too

I mean she’s nice, sweet and hilarious

Fucking gorgeous

She makes me laugh all the time

Her personality is amazing

I fell for her a long time ago

“God fuck Joanne”, I moan as I continue to stroke myself

Fuck, I wish it was her doing it

But I’m too fucking nervous around her

I can’t even talk to her that much before I shut down

I don’t know what I’d do if I had the chance to be with her

No, I take that back

I’d probably fuck it up

“Joanne, baby, I love when you fuck me”, I groan as I get closer to coming

After this, I’m gonna go back downstairs

And probably get hard again

“Joanne, Joanne, Joanne”, I whimper moving my hand faster, my eyes burning though the picture on my phone

“Yoongi?”, I hear a voice by the door.

I stop in horror

No no no

Why didn’t I lock the door?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Yoongi?”, she calls again

I don’t want to turn to her

I want to go back to five minutes ago where my dumbass makes sure the door is locked

Slowly I turn to her, terrified to look at her

I manage to look up at her and I’m surprised that I don’t see disgust in her face

I see curiosity and…

Want?

What?

She comes inside my room and locks the door

Uh what?

What’s she doing?

“Were you jerking off to me?”, she smirks

I swallow hard and nod

Jesus, I can’t even talk to her

Pathetic

“Really? Do you do it all the time?”

I nod

Why does she want to know?

“It’s ok Yoongi”

It is?

“I touch myself thinking about you all the time”

My mouth drops open

What?

WHAT?

“Yyy..Yyyy”, I stutter

Fuck, get it together Yoongi

“Yyyyou do?”

“Yeah Yoongi. You’re so fucking sexy, why wouldn’t I think about you?”

I have no words

I’m completely blown away

I don’t know what to say

She walks closer to my bed

“I’ve been wanting to play with myself since I got here and saw you.”

She’s gonna make my head explode

I can’t believe she’s saying these things to me

“I saw you, so you can watch me if you want. I’ll show you what thinking about you does to me. If you want?”

“Yes”, I answer with no hesitation

Watch her touch herself to me?

Hell yes

She smiles and takes her shirt off

Oh my god

Her body is fucking gorgeous

She has more tattoos on her ribs

She’s wearing a red lacy see through bra and it looks amazing on her body

It’s barely holding in her large breasts

She unbuttons and unzips her jeans

She wiggles out of them saying, “Sorry I look stupid but these things are so damn tight”

Is she kidding?

“You dddd..don’t look stupid”, I manage to get out

She’s wearing a matching pantie lacy thing and I get so much harder

“Fuck Yoongi, your cock is so hard”, she says biting her lip, “It’s so fucking big”

Jesus, she’s trying to kill me

She’s still staring at my cock and she licks her lips

Fuck

I just want to throw her on the bed and fuck her hard

But I’m too scared to

She takes her bra off and I know my eyes bug out seeing her breasts

I just want to touch them

And lick them

And suck on them

Then she pulls her panties off

My eyes widen

Her body is perfect

Just perfect

I can’t handle it

“Do you like my clothes I’m wearing today? They were just for you”

“Ttttt.”

God, I have to fucking stop stuttering

How she makes me a stuttering mess is crazy

“They are?”

She nods

Fuck, she was trying to get me riled up- and it worked

“I thought they’d get you to finally notice me”, she says

Finally?

I’ve noticed her since the second she walked into our make up room at BigHit

She crawls to the middle of my bed and lays back on my pillows

I’m so fucking turned on, it’s insane

When she opens her legs, I almost fall off the chair

I don’t know how someone’s pussy can be beautiful but hers is

And she’s so fucking wet

“Thinking of you makes me this wet. All the time”, she murmurs

I let a moan slip out

“Fuck, even your moans are sexy”, she whimpers

I watch her move her hand to her pussy and start touching herself

God, how can I last watching this?

I’m ready to cum right now

When she moans, I fucking lose it

I have to stop myself from taking her right now

She moves her hand down and puts two of her fingers inside her pussy

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she moans

My mouth drops open

I don’t know what to do

Her fingers moved in and out

She brings her other hand to her clit and starts rubbing it in circles

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.”, she cries, her head going back on the pillows, eyes closed

This is fucking amazing

I’m extremely happy that she does this to thoughts of me all the time

“Fuck me Yoongi. I want your tongue on me. Fuck”

Oh god

I want to put my tongue on her too

I’ve been wanting to eat her out for the longest time

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me with your huge cock. Please Yoongi”, she moans, moving her hands faster

She’s breathing hard, sweating, small moans and noises coming from her mouth

She takes her fingers out of her, still playing with her clit

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”, she yells, back arching off the bed as she cums

I watch her cum run down her and fall on my bed

Jesus, that’s fucking hot

She keeps rubbing herself, yelling my name again, another orgasm taking over her

I can’t take it anymore

I want her

Now

She’s still playing with herself as I stand

I move on the bed, pull her to me by her legs and run my tongue on her pussy

Fuck

She tastes so fucking good

“Yoongi!”, she moans

“God, you taste amazing. I want to eat you out so much. Can I?”, I ask

She nods, “Yes, yes, Yoongi. You can do whatever you want to me”

Yes

She’s saying everything I ever wanted her to say

“But first”, she pushes me back, “You need to be naked too.”

She pulls my shirt off

“Fuck Yoongi, your body is so beautiful. So goddamn sexy.”, she gasps looking at me

I feel myself blush

No one’s ever told me that

I don’t have abs or a body like Jimin or Jungkook

But hearing her say that about me makes me extremely happy

“Take your pants off”

I immediately stand and take them off the rest of the way

Before I can get back on the bed, she's at the edge of the bed and putting her mouth on my cock

“Fuck”, I yell

She puts all of me in her and starts moving her head back and forth

I feel her tongue running all over me as she sucks

Fuck it feels incredible

I’ve never had a blow job like this

It’s never been so…phenomenal

She knows what she’s doing

She moans

She fucking moans while she’s blowing me

She likes it and is making noises like she’s tasting something amazing

That turns me on so much more

That she loves how my cock tastes

I can cum right now but I don’t want to

I want to eat her out, then fuck her so hard

Gently I move her back and off me, pushing her on her back as I kneel on the floor

I pull her legs, bringing her closer to me, putting her legs on my shoulder

I’m so excited to do this I’ve wanted this so much, for so long

My tongue runs up her pussy and I start sucking on her clit

“Yoongi! God!”, she cries

I noticed that she kept playing with her clit the whole time, so I know that’s a place she loves

I let go and lick her clit over and over

Then I move my tongue and lick up her pussy before sucking on her clit again

“Jesus Yoongi, your tongue is better than I ever imagined”

I smirk

I’m happy she’s enjoying it

I’ve never done this before

I usually just fuck the girl and that’s it

But honestly, she tastes so good and I love doing this to her

I glance up and see her watching me suck her clit

I smirk at her without letting her go and she moans

I love hearing her sounds

I use the tip of my tongue and flick her clit over and over

“Yoongi, oh shit, Yoongi”

Her hand slides in my hair

“Pull”, I command

She pulls my hair and it feels so good

I’m so turned on, anything she does to me feels good

From her breathing and moans I know she’s close

Then someone knocks on my door

“Yoongi?”, Hobi calls

I roll my eyes but don’t stop

I want her to cum

I need to taste it

I need to

“Yoongi? What are you doing? Why are you gone so long? And where’s Joanne?”, Namjoon asks

“Go away”, I yell, then lick her again

“Yoongi”, she cries

“What? Why? What are you doing?”, Jimin asks

Jesus are they all outside my room?

“D…Dddon’t…..stop”, she begs

“I won’t”, I answer quickly, then continue

“What are you doing?”, Jungkook yells

“Eating, go away!”, I shout

“Yoongi….Yoongi”, she moans

“Yeah baby, come on. I want it”, I groan

“What are you eating? All the food is downstairs”, Jin asks

“Cum Joanne. I want to taste it.”

“Yoongi fuck yes Yoongi!”, she screams, coming in my mouth

Holy mother of god, she tastes absolutely incredible

“Oh my god he’s eating out Joanne!”, Tae yells

“More Yoongi. More!”, she screams

I nod and continue to use my tongue on her pussy

Good that she wants more because I’m not stopping

“Ssss..she likes it!”, Jimin says

God, they’re so annoying

Can’t they just leave?

I want to yell at them but I don’t want to take my mouth off her

“I love it”, she yells, “Now go away! We’re not cccc…fuck Yoongi yes….coming out for a long time.”

I laugh against her and she shakes a little

“Fuck Yoongi, that feels good”

“They’re not coming out”, Namjoon repeats

She rolls her eyes, “Yoongi and I are going to fuck each other and be very loud. Go away!”

She’s fucking amazing and I laugh again

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she pulls my hair

“Let’s go. I don’t want to hear this.”, Jin says

I hear their footsteps as they walk away

Finally

I close my lips on her clit again

I suck, then let go, then suck again, then let go

“Yes Yoongi. Don’t stop! Don’t!”

I keep doing it, sucking then letting go

After a few more times, she snaps her hips up putting her pussy more in my mouth and screams while she cums

“Mmmmm”, I moan from how good she is

I slide my tongue inside her, licking her

She shakes and cums again, all over my tongue

It turns me on so much

I love how she tastes

She’s actually my new favorite thing to eat

I can do this all day

“Yoongi!”, she cries, “I want your huge cock in me. Give it to me. I want it. I want you”

Fuck, she wants it I’m giving it to her

I love hearing how much she wants me

Just as much as I always wanted her

I really love that she feels the same way

I get up and climb on the bed

She moves back so I have room

I grab her legs and hold them open

I rub her pussy with my cock and tease her, “You want it Jo? You want me inside you?”

“Yes Yoongi. Yes. Don’t you want to be inside me too?”, she asks, looking at me her eyes big and looking innocent - yeah right

“Yeah Jo. I want nothing more than to be inside you.”, I answer

“Then do it Yoongi. I want you so much.”

God I want her so much too

I slide my cock inside her, yelling from how good, how tight she feels

“Oh my God, oh my god!”, I shout

“Yoongi, ahhh, Yoongi”, she yells

“Jesus Jo. You’re so fucking tight and wet. You feel amazing!”, I praise her

She just makes moaning noises I love

I move back and thrust back in

“Fuck!”, I yell

I can cum right now, this second

I don’t know how I’m going to fuck her for long

It just feels so…..goddamn fantastic

No other girl I’ve been with felt like she does

No other girl has been so fucking tight

I love being in her pussy

I move again, faster, pounding into her, forcing myself not to cum yet

Making her scream and yell

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi. I love your cock. I love you fucking me”

I groan and keep moving

I can’t stop

I don’t want to

“Shit baby, your pussy was made for me”, I cry as I slam into her again and again

“It’s all yours Yoongi. Whenever you want. It’s yours”, she shouts

Yes, yes, yes

I want it

I want her to be mine, want to be the only one she fucks

I want her to be the only one who fucks me, want to be hers too

“My cock is yours Jo. My tongue is yours. Anytime you want them, you can have them. They’re only for you. No one else”, I blurt out

“Yoongi, god”

I thrust inside her and when I hit her spot, she screams so loudly

I love hearing her

It gets me off

“Harder Yoongi. Fuck me harder”, she yells

I nod and slam harder into her making sure I hit that place again

Another scream

Another slam makes her let out another scream

I thrust again and she screams my name, her pussy clamping on my cock, body shaking as she cums

Holy shit, the pleasure from her coming is unbelievable

The way she’s pulling on me is insane

I want to cum but I want to make her cum more

I love the way it feels

Every thrust keeps hitting her in that spot and within a few seconds she cums again

And it feels like heaven

More slamming causes another orgasm

And another and another

We’re both sweating so much but I don’t care

I’m so lost in her and I don’t want it to end

I pound in again and her back comes off the bed causing her to thrust her hips at the same time as me

She takes all of me so deep inside, I yell loudly

“YOONGI!”, she screams, releasing all over me and I can’t fucking take it anymore

Ecstacy floods my body and I cum so hard, deep inside her

I never came this hard before and it’s never felt so fucking incredible

“Yoongi, Yoongi”, she whispers my name over and over

I love hearing my name coming from her mouth

I want her to hold me just as much as I want to hold her

Just pull her closer to me and stay with her

I lay down next to her and she automatically turns to me, snuggling into me

And my arms automatically go around her and hold her close

I’m trying to breathe normally as thoughts race through my mind

I don’t want her to leave

I don’t want things to go back the way they were

I want her

I want her to smile her gorgeous smile at me, laugh when I say something funny, hug and kiss me all the time, tell me she loves me, hold her hand, just be with me

Fuck

Realization hits me right in my chest

I love her

I always said I didn'twant to love someone, it’d hurt too much when they eventually leave because of my career

I don’t know how or when, but I fell in love with her

Damn it

I know that she thinks I’m hot and sexy and that she wants sex from me

I don’t think she likes me like that at all

Definitely not love

I don’t know what to do

I want her so much, but I’m so scared to say anything

She puts one arm around my body, “Yoongi, I love being with you”, she sighs, “Even just laying here with you is amazing. Don’t let go”

I tighten my grip on her while my mind is screaming at me

’Tell her’

’Don’t let her get away from you’

’She wants you like you want her’

’Ask her to be yours’

’NOW’

“Uh Joanne, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah Yoongi.”, she answers

“Do you uh, wanna, uh….”, I trail off

“Yes”

My eyes shoot down to her and she’s looking up at me, smiling

God her smile is going to kill me one day

“Whatever it is, yes.”

“Uhh…”

She giggles and it’s the cutest thing in the world

“Just ask Yoongi”, she reaches up and strokes the side of my face

I close my eyes against her touch

I love the feeling

Force my eyes open, I ask, “Joanne, do you want to be with me? Like be my girlfriend?”

I’m so scared of her answer

“Yes Yoongi. A million times yes. I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been waiting for you for years.”, she responds

Years?

She’s wanted me for years too?

“Really?”, I ask

“Yeah Yoongi. I fell for you so long ago. You had such a bad boy image when I first met you and honestly in the beginning I just wanted to fuck you. My type of guy is more like Hobi. Hilarious, outgoing, silly.”

Hobi?

She liked Hobi?

She wants someone like Hobi?

“You weren’t like that but there was something about you. And after getting to know you, you’re everything Hobi is and more. You’re everything I could ever want”

I smile at that

“I’ve been waiting for you to notice me. I figured you would never because of all the beautiful idols you’re around all the time. Why would you want me, when you could have them?”

“I don’t want them”, I assure her, “I want you. I only ever wanted you from the first day I saw you. Yeah I just wanted sex first like you, but once I got to know you, I wanted you. And I still do.”

“Good because I want you too.”, she smiles

I smile back at her

“I love your smile Yoongi. It’s one of my favorite things about you. It’s so beautiful.”

My smile is nothing compared to hers

“Joanne…I love you. I love you so much you have no idea. I’m crazy in love with you. It’s always been you”, I blurt

Shit shit shit

I sound like such a pathetic idiot

“I love you too Yoongi. So much. I’m so in love with you, it’s ridiculous. You’re all that’s on my mind, all the time. It’s always been you too Yoongi. Always.”, she admits

I feel my face break into a huge smile as I lean to her lips and kiss her for the first time

Holy fuck

Fucking stars burst in my vision from her kiss

I absolutely love it

She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me back

When the kiss ends, she asks shyly, “Can we take a little nap? Sleeping in your arms has been one of the things I want to do the most with you.”

“I’d want nothing more than to take a nap with you Jo. It’s something I’ve wanted to do too, for a long time.”

She kisses me again and snuggles into me more

“I love you Yoongi”, she says

“I love you Joanne.”

I hold her close to me, her head on my chest, arms around her

I run my fingers through her soft hair, listening to her breath as she falls asleep

“I love you”, I whisper to her

Even though she’s sleeping, her arms squeeze me closer

I kiss her head, then close my eyes and fall asleep

[ageofevermore]

ITS BRIGHTER NOW

SUMMARY — until you met your girls, you once believed love would be burning red, but it turns out, it’s everything in between, and that couldn’t be more golden. i wanna be defined by the things that i love, not the things i hate, not the things that i’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night, i just think that you are what you love

PROMPTS — “sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you” & “will you stay with me?”

WARNINGS — mentions of battle, injury, anxiety, overall just fluff and comfort for arguably the best avengers and their girlfriend

Like every relationship, yours has its ups and downs. Although most times, you’re met with nothing but outstanding partners who try their absolute hardest to maintain open communication and boundaries, they’re still human, and Avengers, and while some consider that a fairytale circumstance, not many stop to think about how challenging it can be at its worst moments. Not many people, or any at all who aren’t in the lifestyle or one similar, think about how they’re gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks or months if it’s an undercover mission, and how when they finally do get back, they’re never the same as how they left. But honestly, how could they be? They’ve done things no average citizen would ever be expected to do, seen things and handled situations that are dangerous and traumatizing, and just like anyone else, those things haunt them. Wanda is better about unpacking those skeletons in her closet then Natasha is, but the both of them take things personally, and if things go south, it’s never good.

Both of your girlfriends had been gone from the compound for days. They’d been called out to an active Hydra base in Russia, and three days later, things had gone south and they’d been in active combat since. You didn’t talk to them much, with battles and timezones and everything else that got in your way, but you had heard through the grapevine that Wanda was pretty banged up and Natasha had been left with no choice but to shoot to kill after a particularly gruesome fight. Hearing that never got any easier, especially when they were halfway across the world and had no idea when they’d return. It was missions like these that made you yearn for a simpler life. One where Wanda was an artist, Natasha probably took up something flexible like tattooing, and you did literally anything else to just have some peace and quiet and promised safety.

You had met Natasha first, after Maria recruited you to join Shield. She had been skeptical of you, as she was of everyone, but you broke down her walls as easily as you’d picked the lock to Clint’s farm the one time you were placed on a strike mission together. She had been hurt pretty badly, and his farm was the closest place to land. That had been an interesting day, no thanks to your girlfriend who was draped across your arm with a shallow bullet wound and a startled Laura who was screeching about blood on her new couch. Things with Clint were still chaotic as ever, but he eventually got over you busting his brand new lock, and the two of you joked about it now, although now you had a key so no locks had to be busted in the event of an unplanned visit happening again. When you met Wanda, she fell into your dynamic easily, and at first, neither you nor Natasha had realized that you’d kind of adopted her as a third girlfriend until a drunken night when she ended up in your bed and never left. Now, sleeping without them is hard, but you’re forced to manage as best as you can, seeing as you don't really have much of a choice.

It was going onto the sixth night without them home when you finally retired from the couch, and decided to head to bed, figuring that at two in the morning there was no chance of them coming back until the next morning at the earliest. It was hard enough when one of them was on an active mission with no return date, but when both of them were gone, it truly felt like your heart was missing from your chest and you were just going through the motions and holding your breath until they got back. Most people only had one person to worry about, but having two people to lose, with jobs in this line of work, you felt like you were always looking over your shoulder and expecting the worst. As often as they could, your girlfriends declined missions together, even though they felt comfortable on the battlefield together and it was a comfort to not be alone, but neither one of them wanted to risk not coming home to you. They didn’t have a choice this time, so reluctantly they packed up their duffles and headed for the quinjet, with a kiss on your head and a promise that they would fight to come home to you, that they would try to make it back. There were still two mugs of tea on the countertop in the mini kitchen, and although it was disgusting and the tea had gone bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to clean them up. If that was the last thing they ever touched with you, when they were just Wanda and Natasha and not Avengers, you wanted the picture of mismatched mugs burned into your eyelids for the rest of your life. They deserved to be remembered as real, genuine, soft and stubborn, sometimes infuriating but lovable and loved people, not just heroes who had a cause when things went south.

You tossed and turned for probably an hour, groaning in annoyance for how empty your bed felt without them. How had you gotten so attached? That was the one thing you’d tried your hardest not to do when you got into this, and yet here you are, in Natasha’s t-shirt and Wanda’s panties, unable to sleep because the bed feels too cold and the walls feel too big and the room feels too empty and your heart feels misplaced. You’d heard somebody say love is golden once, not burning red, and you’d never understood that until a moment like this a few years ago, when Natasha left for the first time and you were utterly alone in the tower. They were golden, they were light, they were pouring rain in the middle of the day with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight, and they are the best moments of your life that you wish you could frame in a moving picture, because no, a picture can’t say a million words when it’s them. You need every word in the dictionary and then some. You will never be able to elaborate on how much you love them without falling short, and feeling like there's still so much you could’ve said. Everything felt so gray without them. It had to be after three in the morning when you finally fell asleep, probably closer to four, but you didn’t think about how long you’d been waiting up for them, just flopped onto your back and sprawled out like a starfish, and let sleep take over so you could have a few hours without consciously missing them. Missing them was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You’re pulled from your sleep by hushed voices and a door closing, convinced that the hinges are louder at inappropriate times just to spite you. You try to ignore it at first, finally in a comfortable position and getting some rest after a long day of running trials with Cho, but the noises persist despite your displeasure. A sound between a groan and a whine is extracted from your chest when something bumps into the bed, and any thought of going back to sleep leaves your mind. Unlike your girlfriends who can sleep through a natural disaster and fall asleep again if god forbid it wakes them up, once your eyes open you’re awake for the day, and it seems like this is where your day starts.

Although with blurred vision from the very few hours of sleep in your eyes, you’re able make out Wanda hunched over the bed, grasping at her side that is noticeably bloody, while Natasha is digging through the drawers to your left probably attempting to find a loose fitting top for Wanda to change into. All exhaustion leaves your body at the sight of them, and you spring up, rubbing your eyes with a wince as they burn in disagreement with your current state of consciousness. Wanda’s head snaps up, on high alert, but she forces her shoulders to relax when she realizes that it’s just you and not a threat.

“Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you.” She apologizes weakly, through clenched teeth and apparent sleepiness. You wonder when the last time they got a decent amount of rest, when they weren’t looking over their shoulders in paranoia or tossing and turning in pain from an injury that couldn’t be properly treated, but you force yourself to not dwell on it too much. You can’t change the past, and neither can they, all that matters is how they recover, and how they need you to help them heal from everything they were exposed to while in Russia. You’re the clean up, another factor that nobody considers while talking about how romantic and protected you must feel having two superheroes as partners. If anything, you feel more exposed. Like all eyes are on you and a monster is always lurking in the room over.

“No, no that’s okay. I only went to sleep a few hours ago, anyway. Here.” You know that the shirt Natasha is probably looking for is the one currently on your body, and you offer it to Wanda with no hesitation, already making a b-line for her when she just barely has the strength to reach for it herself. You pull the bloodied top over her head gently, thankful that the blood it’s soaked with is dry, and her wound is covered in gauze, meaning they’d probably stopped by the medbay before they made their way in here. “A little banged up, aren’t you?” You comment, although it's rhetorical and you know she won’t tell you how it happened just yet. That usually comes a few days after the mission, when the trauma isn’t so fresh and they’re not still on edge that something else is coming for them. You help her out of her pants as well, thanking Natasha when she hands you a fresh pair of undergarments to pull up Wanda’s legs before you even have to ask.

“We’re still in one piece.” Natasha promises, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s tense all over, but she does her best to relax as she holds you, grounding herself in the moment and not the nightmares that have been going around in circles in her mind since getting on the quinjet to come home. “We missed you.” She kisses the skin beneath your ear, lingering for a few seconds before she untangles herself completely and gets ready for bed herself.

“That’s all that matters.” You reassure her, pecking Wanda’s lips gently, knowing she doesn’t have the energy or the strength to match any moment of passion right now. It’s not something that bothers you, maybe it used to, just the slightest bit, but it’s a routine you’re used to now. “I missed you too.”

“I told Steve we’re not taking any missions for a while. Especially not together.” Natasha hands you another one of her tops to slip into, and watches you throw Wanda’s bloodied one into the garbage beside your vanity. She won’t wear it again, not when it’s got so much history now, even if you could get the blood stain out. Again, it’s a routine you’ve found comfort in. The clothes they return home in almost always end up in the garbage, no time for working through PTSD that’s stitched into the fabric when you can just get something new to start fresh in.

“That’s good. I heard from Maria how tough this one was. I don’t know if I slept much the first few days.” You hate to worry them, or make them feel bad, but they hate when you’re not honest with them, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them being sent out on missions, so it’s not like you’re haroboring negative feelings toward them directly, which they understand, but your girlfriends do a great job of beating themselves up about certain things out of their control, this being one of them.

“Or at all. We still have cameras, you know.” Natasha muses, thoroughly amused when you turn a deep shade of crimson and kick Wanda’s discarded pants up toward her. Your other girlfriend, who has been noticeably quiet through the entire exchange, is curled up in bed, looking unbothered by the conversation but intent on finally getting some sleep in her own bed without the possibility of being blown to bits by the enemy.

“Spying on me, are you Romanoff?” You tease, shutting all the drawers Natasha left open and picking up all of her discarded clothes to throw them in the bin as well. She thanks you silently with her eyes that are practically bleeding with pain and adoration, but you don’t say anything. This is the least you can do for them right now.

“Gotta keep an eye on my girl.” Although it’s an easy statement, you know that it’s riddled with nothing but genuine anxiety. Both of your girlfriends are worrywarts when it comes to leaving you alone, for any amount of time but especially undetermined chunks like this mission, and although its heartwarming to be so cared for, it breaks your heart to know that they have valid reasons to be afraid. Another thing nobody even considers when they make comments toward your relationship. Wanda makes a huffing sound beside Natasha and both of your lips twitch in amusement, “On one of my girls, sorry, malysh.”

“You both should get some rest.” You comment, seeing that almost an hour has passed since they stumbled in. You won’t be able to fall asleep again, and even if you could, you’re apprehensive to crawl into bed with Wanda and accidentally hurt her more, so you have all intentions of wishing them a goodnight and going to finally clean up the mugs of tea that are resting on the counter.

“Where are you going?” Natasha wonders, watching you closely, like she’s scared that you’re going to fall apart right in front of her. You hate these moments, when they’re first getting back and they still feel like they’re stranded in a battlefield. It takes days to get back to some kind of normalcy without walking on eggshells, and by that time, they’re usually cleared to start training again and working their strength up for the next mission. One day, you just want to be done, but they’re not ready yet and that's okay.

“To clean up the tea mugs you left before you went. I didn’t have the heart to clean them up, in case…” You train off, but Natasha knows what you’re going to say and her face sinks even deeper.

“In case we didn’t come back.” She finishes your thought, hand rubbing Wanda’s back now that the woman is on her belly, seeking pressure against her wound that’s probably aching beneath the gauze. She shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, but you’re not about to scold her right now. She needs to be comfortable, any torn stitches can easily be mended tomorrow morning when she’s well rested.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, releasing the tension that gathered in your shoulders at the simple thought of losing them. They’re okay this time, you can let go of all that pent up anxiety and dread for the time being. But it crosses your mind that there's always next time, and they might not get so lucky.

“Will you stay with me? Please?” Wanda asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is pressed into, her arms beneath her head as she gives Natasha full access to her back, and the aching muscles that have probably been pulled a couple thousand times since leaving. Natasha works harder at releasing some of that tension, looking at you with broken eyes that you can’t say no too. Your worries are squandered when Wanda speaks again, lifting her head just enough to be able to see your face, peering into your eyes with a passion and seriousness that burns you inside. “You won’t hurt me, stop thinking that. I just want to hold my girl.”

“Ahem.” Natasha clears her throat, and Wanda lets the slightest smile pull her tired lips upward.

“One of my girls, sorry, detka.” She apologies before dropping her face back into the pillow, tightening her grip on it when Natasha hits a sore spot in her back. The redhead keeps at it, knowing how easily the Sokovian can pull her muscles when she’s lifting heavy things with just her tendrils.

“Are my thoughts that loud?” You ask meekly, abandoning your intention of straightening up the kitchen and instead coming closer to the end bed, still without pants and just Natasha’s shirt that hangs to your mid thigh.

Natasha stops rubbing Wanda’s back in order to grab at your thighs and pull you closer, rubbing the skin of your legs the same way she had been rubbing Wanda’s back. Though she’ll never admit it, you and Wanda have a sneaking suspicion her love language is physical touch, and that just maybe, physically feeling you both silences her anxieties over you just disappearing from her. Whatever her reason, neither of you protest, and admittedly crave her touch by the end of the night when you crawl into bed.

“Mhmm, I promise I’m okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore, s’just sore.” She promised, sounding half asleep the longer she lays, adjusting her head so her neck is turned toward both you and Natasha, but her eyes are closed, a content smirk on her lips that only grows bigger when she hears you sigh your agreeance and then feels the bed dip with your weight as you climb into bed.

“Lay your ass down, or I’m gonna fall asleep sitting up.” Natasha scolds, playfully slapping your ass as you crawl over her and into the center of the bed, which is no longer warm from your body. You settle in between them, humming contently when Wanda loops an arm around your waist and then Natasha pulled you into her chest, your legs intertangling messily beneath the sheets.

“I missed this. I can’t sleep when you’re gone, everything feels so empty.” You admit, letting your eyes close even if you’re going to have a few hours of painful silence and stillness before you can even consider actually falling asleep.

Natasha presses her lips into your head and Wanda tightens her arm around your middle, neither saying anything, but not having to as their words and their presence says it all. Surprisingly, you fall asleep in minutes, and not a single one of you wakes up for the next ten hours, desperately needing the rest all together again.

[tobbotobbs]

what about cod men with reader who BLASTS music like ayesha erotica, nikki minaj and etc randomly while chilling or has headphones and does that while on field

Ohhhh I think they would probably be all so confused or worried if it happened in the middle of a mission lol, here my thoughts to that scenario:

When Ghost heard you playing Nasty from Ayesha for the first time on the middle of interrogating someone they captured and kept alive on their mission, he was very irritated. Soap tried to get the new, right information out of the soldier meanwhile you two and Gaz stood in the darker corner, staring at the horrified man as you quietly sang the lines of the song playing over your headset.

,,Damn I'm sorry I blew you off, I was doing lunch with Microsoft. I'm sucking off a C.E.O, if he's not a millionaire then I've got to go~"

,,What the hell?! Y/n quit that singing! What even is that?", Ghost looked disgusted at you, questioning why he was even befriended with you in first place but quick to remember that you're actually his favorite person on earth, except for when you were listening to sich filth. In the middle of a mission. He quickly became used to it though, just told you once in a while to keep it down or put the music off if the operation was in need of your attention. He didn't enjoy the music as it was, the text too vulgar and flithy for his liking, but he couldn't deny that the melodies of some of your songs were quite catchy sometimes. Of course he grew even more annoyed when you and Gaz would play songs together on base and Soap would jump in on it with his ugly singing.

He didn't knew you were listening to that kind of music. He sometimes heard you playing some songs as loud as you could in your room, but he never understood a thing of what was sang and your door was always locked, as if to keep people out from seeing you dance some kind of risky dance to this music. Oh boy, if he knew.

Emo Boy was suddenly playing. It scared the shit out if Soap, Kyle and yourself even though it was your ringtone.

,,Oh shit! Sorry guys, Mama's calling. Don't wait for me with the movie!", you were smiling at them and quickly picking up and talking to your mum over the phone.

,,Was that-", ,,Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica?", ,,Oh. My. God. I heard that right?!!?", ,,Yeah...I didn't know Y/n would listen to that type of music Soap!", ,,Me neither Gaz...it's a catchy song though", ,,Oh it really is. Probably why he chose it?", ,,Yeah...you think he's also into other songs of that genre?", ,,Maybe. Are you?", ,,Oh hell nuh. Not me, no no".

Gaz raises a brow at that and smirks. Then they both start laughing. ,,Oh you are so listening to this kind of music man!", ,,Pah, and if I am? You knew the song by name and artist by just a few seconds of melody playing!", ,,Ah yeah you got me there mate heh"

,,Alright guys, I'm back! Let's start this movie night shall we?", you grinned and sat next to Kyle again, who just smiled at you and nodded, reaching for the remote control. ,,Tell me, is that the music you alway listen and dance to in your room?", ,,Uhm yeah, whx Kyle?", ,,...Wanna show me one of those dances someday?", he grinned suggestively and you just giggled at that.

Oh this man showed you this tyoe of music, actually. He was playing some song from Doja Cat on the radio of the car from his so nicely called "Hype or Horn Me Up" playlist. You were confused at first. The words used in the songs were...interesting. And Soap was dancing and tapping to it like he was in some dance off. It was amusing and fun. Of course his taste in music wore off on you and so it surprised noone on the team when you were running past them on the field, gun in hand while looking as if you had the time of your life, the could hear for a short time the music blasting through your headphones as you went to go for the next kills.

,,I ain't tryna be cool like you hmmhmhmhmm", you sang while aiming to shoot an enemy, the new song coming on another Doja Cat favourite of you and soap. Hitting the target clean in the head you smirked. ,,I'm bitch. I'm a boss. I'm bitch, I'm a boss, I'm a shine like gloss!", ,,Oi yes you are Darlin!", Soap beamed from behind you. Price was just sighing and pinching his nosebridge while Ghost was just standing next to him like an annoyed older sibling.

You guys would play this type of music all around the base, 24/7. All week long. Until Price got so mad he made you do the dishes and gave you one month of cleaning duty. You did in fact not keep it down afterwards and everyone just had to live with it. Some of the younger recruits actually enjoyed it and envied you guys for that, made them feel less stressed and more relaxed.

Oh boy. Oh. Boy. He nearly died. First time you blasted that music on the car ride to some pub out of town because you guys all got some time off duty? He was thinking about how he could never go to heaven now, or even just into a church. He would perish just standing on the steps of a church. But then he remembered, he wasn't even religious. So that was fine. But then he thought "Why the fuck is this muppet listening to THAT?!!?!?". You currently sat in the driver's seat and danced to S.L.U.T by Bea Miller. Before that a song way worse was playing, Price recalled (it was I Want Your Bite by Cara Cunningham). This one now wasn't too bad. It was quite nice actually. Way more innocent than ghe other one. John was thankful for that, he grew very hot and was all flustered by the other song which made him feel a little uncomfortable.

,,Oh we're nearly there Cap!", ,,Y-Yes. Just...just put the car to a stop yeah?", ,,Whatever you say Captain!", you smiled while the next song came on. ,,Oh my god this one is so good!". Price looked over to you, awaiting something more innocent again like before. He thought wrong.

,,Ride it, slide it, bite, get inside it

Come on, touch my body

I know that you like it, you can't hide it

Come on touch my body

Hotter, bigger, faster, longer, thicker

Come on touch my body!", you sang loud and proud to the lines of Treat Me Like A Slut by Kim Petras. John officially was a tomato now. He loved seeing you having your fun, but this was surely and never will be his kind of music choice.

,,Treat Me Like A Slut, little dirty bitch I love to fuck!", ,,Okayyy I think it's- oh look there's the pub! Get us a good parking lot and then we'll have some fun kid, a'right?", ,,Yes!".

Poor guy always gets all red when he hears some of his boys play such music. And with Soap and you, and occasionally also Kyle, on his team that was a lot of times. But he wouldn't be too mad about it. Just sometimes id you played it too loud or while he was in an important meeting. He did enjoy seeing you all have your fun so he is not too strict with punishments.

You are playing some pretty filthy, nasty song in your shared house. Ale just came back from grocery shopping, Rudy in tow helping him with the bags. You were wearing just a shirt and boxers while singing to the song, looking through some magazines on the couch and just waiting for Alejandro to be back. He new of your guilty pleasure for those songs, this kind of music. He adored the way you would get all red sometimes when he talked about it to you, but he doesn't judge. He actually listens to songs like this as well. Obviously in spanish. He showed you some in his native language and you enjoyed them, even if you didn't know what was said.

Alejandro would laugh sometimes when you randomly put the music on while you were in a fight. It always made his mood go all the way up hearing and seeing you enjoy this music, especially if you would listen to the spanish ones he had shown you. For him it is no problem. He trusts you with being focused on missions so he allows you to listen to music, sometimes you even listen together over the radio.

The same goes for Rodolfo, but the poor guy would be worried sick if you would start blasting loud music on missions out of nowhere. Give the little guy a warning beforehand so he doesn't shoot you out of shock hehe. He also shows you songs in spanish, some that are not as filthy as yours but have the same kind of energy and he translates them for you.

Little german/austrian boy listens to filthy music himself. He is the biggest Rammstein fan there is. One of his favourite songs is probably Bück Dich (Bend Over) and Dicke Titten (Big Boobs/Big Tits). He also really enjoys Labyrinth by OOMPH! It's not really filthy with words but the meaning is pretty dirty. It's also a banger like, he was so happy you enjoyed listening to music with him. To that kind of music as well. He really wantes to visit a Rammstein concert with you someday, if you said yes.

He doesn't listen to music on the job though. And because he's your colonel he asked you kindly to not do it either. On the flight to wherever the mission was? Yes of course he will even listen with you to calm his nerves. At the base? Sometimes he even gets Horangi to join you guys, who really hates this kind of music because he heard too much of it in hia home country (he absolutely hates kpop and all the horny people coming with it).

When you showed him some of your favourite artists and they would sing too fast or use words he didn't understand, you would try to translate for him and the most funny german ever. He told you it was fine to try to explain in english but you really wanted to make him happy and maybe even laugh a little when you tried to explain that the person in the song just sang "Ich möchte in deinen Titten ertrinken" (I wanna drown on those tits/boobs of yours). He is so sweet if someone came up and would make fun of you listening to such music, like he would finally use his rank for once and make them regret for ever saying that to you.

[sirenscriptures]

♡₊˚・ tame — t. fushiguro ⋆｡˚ ₊✧

fem-bodied reader. cunnilingus. soft, sweet sex. body worship. throatfucking. very little dialogue. tonguefucking. slight depiction of fear of intimacy. — 1.1k

-> minors do not interact. 18+ content below the cut.

the first time you found yourself skin to skin with toji, you could swear you saw something shift within him in real time.

it wasn’t some slow-mo, perfectly played out scene like out of a romance novel—where every angle of him was perfectly burned into your memory. but it wasn’t a soul-bursting, overly lust-fragrant physical transaction either.

with you straddling him in nothing but your lace nightwear, gorgeous gaze locked on him as though he were the only man left in the world, the sight of you alone made him feel a hesitation he hadn’t ever before encountered.

you were such a perfect picture. while this fushiguro in particular didn’t have a single artistic gene alive in his body, the mere sight of you made him want to plaster your beauty onto canvas, even if it was just a mess of color.

even the feeling of your soft skin against his own made his mind convince his body that he was in danger. tension stung his muscles the more your soft hands skulked over his bare skin. every single one of his senses felt ablaze, especially when you closed your eyes to let your lips smooth against his own.

the taste of you on his lips almost made him want to devour you on the spot, allowing his inner desires to ravage you in the best way he knew how, even if it was just another primal desire of his.

yet, he remained still, even with both of your tongues colliding and swirling over one another. a slight streak of saliva dripped down his lip as he did everything in his power to hold back a groan of pleasure.

god, he felt pathetic. how could someone such as you—so delicate, so fragile, so…breakable have such a potent effect on him like this?

the more you kissed him, toji could swear you felt his tension by now. it was probably radiating off him with the way his muscles now trembled, his fists wadded up at his sides, mustering up every bit of power not to touch you.

your breath was growing more labored as your hands admired his bare chest and arms, lips still lingering against his with less pressure than before. and for a moment, you paused, noticing how rigid he’d become at your touch. it was as if he’d turned his muscles into a suit of armor with how stiff he’d become.

at first, he almost felt disappointed when you pulled your face away, thinking for a moment you’d been offended by his body language. there was something in him that almost felt desperation seeing you back away from him like that. though another part of him had no problem pulling you right back into him, locking you into a kiss with his massive hand embedded in your hair.

instead, your lips curved into a smile, hand cupping his face so delicately, a gesture that almost instantly made his shoulders sink down to their normal height.

your stare, though soft and full of a silent admiration, seemed to burn straight into him. it didn’t seem right that someone so gentle could set his insides aflame like this.

your thumb gently traced the scar over his lip, the rest of his body seeming to melt beneath such a simple touch.

“there’s no need to hold yourself back from me.” you say, bringing yourself close once more, that compulsive smile of yours still dressing those pretty lips.

“i want you to feel good,” the kiss you pressed to his neck is enough to make him shiver. “so, will you let me?”

toji was at a loss for words. all he could do at this point was nod, still in a daze from you and your touches alone.

the rest seemed like a pleasure-filled blur to both of you. it was almost as if you’d both gotten lost in the moment, even though your bodies would still remember the sensations from this night the following day.

toji could feel something unraveling within him as his mouth explored your body. from your lips, all the way down to your thighs, he wanted to paint you with his love. his hands journeyed from your breasts to your hips, tracing every mark, scar, and inch of skin with soft praises, as if praying to some sort of deity. yet, to toji, you were better than any divinity, or any sort of paradise he could imagine.

he could remember your back arching in response to his tongue lapping at your wetness, swirling at your clit generously as your pretty moans fell out of you. he could remember how your insides felt as he tonguefucked you, marveling at how you’d clench around him, clearly desperate for more.

he’d remember also the way your throat opened to take him in, causing him to gasp at how good you felt. his fingers tugged slightly at your hair, gently pumping himself in and out of your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of your throat with each slight thrust.

yet, his favorite part still remained to be you on top of him. you looked irresistible as he fucked into you, your arms desperately clinging around his broad shoulders as he pushed deeper into you.

he loved how he could feel his cock stretching your slick walls out, making you tremble as he targeted your tender g-spot. the sound of your whimpers and cries of ecstasy only drove him further, a chorus of ‘i love yous’ falling from his lips as his seed eventually spilled into you.

toji didn’t know he would ever be capable of ever feeling this way, especially not with someone as beautiful as yourself. he never knew he’d be given this chance to love like this; to hold you in a shared bed, skin to skin, your breaths and heartbeats almost synching up in rhythm at times.

even as he held you, and even when you both eventually drifted off into sleep, he could still feel something within him ablaze. yet, it wasn’t anything like before. this new sensation seem to make every bad thought, every sin, every regret, every fragment of anger he’d ever possessed within himself wash away.

his mental state that once seemed mangled and warped, now felt so tame, almost as if he’d been reset in some way by you. there was no quick explanation to this internal phenomenon, though something told him that it wasn’t necessary.

all that he needed to do now was make sure he could have the same effect on you. and he made a silent promise of that, kissing your forehead with a smile, before he fell into the first deep sleep he’d ever had in years, all because of you.

written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.

[toothsnatcherr]

I want to randomly stumble on someone’s perverted gore drawings irl. <3

I want them to feel terrified ive found out their big big secret. I want them to worry I’m gonna expose them and tell everyone they’re a big big freak.

I want them to shut the door behind them and lock it, as they see me their drawings still in hand.

I want them to desperately try to control the situation. People who are triggered like that are really exciting.

I want them to have been really invested in me, really liked me, really having tried to make sure I never even could imagine that part of them.

I want them to fear being rejected by me. Judged. Being outed to the world. Fear losing me.

But I also want them to feel angry and violent, after all they’re tired of feeling persecuted and judged by society over things they simply cannot help.

I think my heart would beat so fast feeling how quickly they’d be getting intimidating like that. But knowing how eaten up and fearful they are inside, juggling that they like me so much at the same time would make it a thousand times hotter still. <3

I wouldn’t even say anything at first, I’d just look at them like a confused, scared cornered animal.

„Don’t misunderstand these drawings. They were.. artistic experiments. I know they’re probably to gorey for you and I’m sorry you had to look at them but.. please. Don’t make this difficult.“

I’d practically want them to ravish me on the spot. That kind of emotionally is just so hot. <3

„I know what I saw… these were clearly sexual in nature… you can’t make excuses for this.“ I’d respond.

„Please, I really like you, I don’t want you to misunderstand me.. This isn’t what it looks like.“

I’d notice the tension in their body, the repressed anger, and that vulnerable expression of worry over going to far and hurting me. Of losing me.

Then I’d step closer to them very slowly - take their hand in mine. Feel it cramp up as they wouldn’t be sure what I’m planning to do, but also not wanting to make it worse by being hesistant to my touch.

„Do you wanna find out what I really think about those pictures of yours?“ I’d ask.

Their expression fogging up, becoming confused and uncertain. Was I trying to soften the blow? Was I manipulating them? Would I get physical and push them away to try to get to the door?

„Mhm.. You could reach under my skirt.. right where my panties are if you wanted to find out what I think of them.“

I’d watch them freeze up. Uncertain. That reaction not even being a possibility to them. Maybe they’d conclude I’m so terrified of them I’m trying my best to just appease them by offering to be sexual.

I’d slowly guide their hand to where my legs meet, pushing their finger against my clit, brushing up against their body ever so slightly.

They’d feel how wet I am. But some people just get wet even when they don’t want to right? It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Does it?

„I kind of wanna know what it would feel like if you fucked aaall that confusion, anger and desperation into me right this second. You know you’re a pretty level headed person, I don’t get to see you like this all to often.“

I’d watch them try to reason with the rational part of their brain that that would be a bad choice to make. That they don’t know whether I’m lying or not. That this type of reaction would seem to good to be true.

„I don’t want to hurt you.. Just because I’m into this type of thing doesn’t mean I’d just.. you don’t *need* to do this .. I’m sorry if I scared you..“ Thered be so much underlying arousal in their tone of voice. A slight shivering to the way they pronounce words.

„You do though…. You wouldn’t. But you’re soo livid at the idea of me possibly backstabbing you aren’t you? You soo do wanna see me all weak and beneath you, shivering, moaning.. I’m telling you, go for it. I’m not doing this cause I’m scared of you. It’s not like that. I promise.“

I’d take them by the hand and lead them to their bed, push them down and climb on top of them „I really really appreciated your artwork there. I didn’t know you enjoy that type of thing too.. Mhm.. Are you really gonna let me take charge right now? That would be suuuch a waste of the state you’re currently in.“

I’d push my lips onto theirs, taste their disbelief and arousal and then finally feel that shift as they come to believe I might actually not be lying.

Within seconds I’d be flipped on my stomach, them on top of me. „You have to be a little bit of a sadist to enjoy what I’m going through right now though, aren’t you?“ They’d whisper whilst roughly biting into my neck from behind, making me gasp for air. „But since you offered yourself up so nicely for it I will fuck all of the turmoil im in right now into you. You’re clearly going to enjoy it.. man I had no idea.“

Feeling their cock enter me seconds later, roughly. The intensity of it all so thick in the air it could be cut. Thrusting into me like a madman. That feeling of blind surrender finding me. Their teeth sinking into me just as they hit that sweet spot inside me. The feeling of blood trickling down my back shortly after. The pain of the bite being drowned out almost entirely by the pleasure inside my cunt spreading throughout my body.

Feeling tears well up in my eyes from the depth and intensity of the thrusting. The way they’d push my body into the mattress. Fondle my body all over.

„And? Do you like it?“ they’d ask, feeling my cunt respond to their intensity with tightening and getting so so wet.

„You’re soo scared and soo angry aren’t you?“ Is breathe out inbetween my own moans interrupting me. „I can feel all of that so deeply right now.. you’re literally fucking me with all of that. It’s so good. It’s the best. Don’t stop. Please.“

My fingers would cling to the bedsheet incapable of holding the sheer pleasure quietly inside my body. My moans partially being swallowed by the mattress yet still audible and constant.

They’d lift my head up by the hair as they’d keep fucking into my cunt.

„I wanna hear it. I wanna hear how much you like it.“ This utter need for domination but also the urge to be accepted so apparent in their voice.

My moans echoing through the room with every hard, deep thrust.

„Im gonna cum inside you so many times tonight. You’re have no idea what type of emotions I’m feeling right now.. I think I should fuck you so long your mind breaks a little and you’ll be forced to stick to this act..“

I’d grin, my head still held up roughly by my hair. „You really do have trust issues don’t you?“ I’d taunt. „Im kinda into it. Do teach me to never reject you by fucking me until I break.“

They’d cum inside me so many times that night. I’d reach a point where my body would be so overwhelmed and overly sensitive it would feel so good but simply way way way to much.

I’d lie there so fucked out, breathing hard and exhausted, incapable of moving a single muscle even though they’d still be fucking inside me nonetheless.

„Don’t make me cum again - please I can’t take it anymore - please. It’s to good. It’s to much.“ I’d plead and beg with that look in my eye that would tell them not to stop at all.

And they’d just play with my clit as they fuck me and force me to cum once more.

„You told me you’re gonna accept my feelings inside you and that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.“

I’d whimper underneath them, my body instinctively putting up a light struggle. No real attempt to get away. Just squirming that would be impossible to stop at that point of overwhelm.

The night would turn into morning and it would only end by the time the sun was already risen again.

[gabessquishytum]

The Endless family are nothing, if not the most horrible of people. They don't care who/what they hurt to lord it over people.

Morpheus tries to have as little to do with his adoptive family (he along with a number of his other siblings were foundlings) as possible, but the family still own his apartment building and probably have found a sneaky underhanded way to have a stake in his fledgling art career. This is part of the reason he appeared when summoned to the most recent family dinner/shitty people party.

For some yet undisclosed reason, Morpheus parents were particularly smug about whatever was going to happen at the party - he just hopes it's not overt and open criming, he doesn't really want to be pressed into hiding bodies and depending on how long it takes to get to whatever their "surprise" is, Morpheus will have to stay at the party for longer than he would ever want.

The surprise is wheeled out, in a giant tank -- a captured male merperson. To Morpheus's eyes, he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen - long brown hair flowing in the water, strong chest and arms flowing seamlessly down to a golden tail, shot through with warm browns, yellows and greens. Just the colors alone spoke to Morpheus's artist soul. He knew he could happily spend the rest of his life doing nothing but attempting to recreate this beauty.

And then he locked eyes with the angry brown eyes of what was obviously the rest of his existence,,,,,,,and Morpheus's soul mark burned.

Ahhhh this is so chilling!! I like the idea of Hob being beautiful but terrifying.

Of course Dream has to do something. So he asks to stay the night at his "parents" awful mansion. After midnight he sneaks down the damp basement where the huge tank has been stored. The merman is skulking around the bottom of the tank, and those brown-gold eyes glare out through the darkness. Dream can't stop himself from stepping forward and pressing the palm of his hand against the glass.

"Well." The merman says, sending bubbles shooting out to the surface of the tank. "How are you going to get me out of here?"

It turns into a proper mini heist. Dream recruits a team to get his soulmate out: his estranged adoptive brother Ollie, his youngest sister (who still lives at home, and can let them all into the mansion), a few sketchy friends he made at university (Matthew and Cori) and, bizarrely, the director of the gallery that shows his art. Gilbert may be older in years, but he is very good with a weapon.

They take an old bathtub that Matthew dug out of a skip to the mansion in Cori's truck. And then they lug the damn thing down to the basement. Hob looks distinctly unimpressed. But when Dream begs him to get in the bath, his fierce attitude softens. Muttering about dumb humans, he flops out from the top of the tank, into the bath - bringing plenty of water along with him.

Then they have to get him back up the stairs. Dream is not super helpful tbh, he's too fixated on Hob’s beautiful tail. And his eyes. And just everything, really. Thank goodness Ollie hits the gym regularly - they make it out of the mansion before dawn. Delirium gives Hob a big kiss on the cheek, and he gets all soft and mushy, giving her a soggy hug in return before they wave goodbye and get the hell out of there. They head for Gilbert's gallery (since its on the ground floor), where Hob's eyes get all big and shiny as he looks at Dream’s art.

What the hell do they do now? No doubt Dream’s parents will notice the missing merman. And Hob can't live in a bathtub forever. Maybe it's time for Dream to get the nice cottage by the sea that he's always fancied. The question is - will Hob want to hang around, when he's free to swim away?

The answer is a grumpy "yes". As long as Dream agrees to paint him. Which obviously isn't going to be an issue at all 😄

[beifong-brainrot]

After reading your post in regards to Toph being a cop — in your opinion, what do you think she should’ve become if she didn’t become a cop?

Honestly, part of me doesn't even think Toph should become anything lol. Or at least, not at once. She deserves to have the freedom she wanted so much, so I'd honestly just want to see her travelling and experiencing the worldz doing whatever the hell she wants.

Something I've been thinking about way too much ehen it comes to Toph is how she didn't really set out to change the world/defeat Ozai, like the rest of the Gaang. Of course, I don't think she was apathetic towards their cause, but we can't forget that her main motivation was to free herself from her parents.

Which she achieved by travelling with the Gaang, making friends while also hrowing as a person. I truly believe that even in canon, those were the best years in Toph's life, which may be why she chose to live in the same swamp that set Aang on his journey to her.

So when the Gaang managed to defeat Ozai and the Fire Nation, it was a new start for Aang, Katara, Sokka and Zuko. But for Toph it was kind of the death of the freedom and companionship she loved from their travels.

After the war, the Gaang became political figures which sucks for Toph because a) she hates politics and b) it sets more restraints in how she operates. People know her as the Avatar's friend and so the underground fighters she used to run with see her as a lawbringer.

So I could see Toph trying to make bending battles more legal and accepted. Hell, I like the idea of her being heavily engaged in probending, if not helping develop it.

I like the idea of Toph never getting tied down to a profession, though.

It won't be the same with her not always being able to have the Gaang at her side, but I think she might enjoy going solo for a bit. I can see her as a risk taker and daredevil, always trying to find another challenge, be it by dealing with a bunch of bandits or climbing a tall mountain.

The members of the Gaang would probably occasionally tag along with her, particularly Aang when he gets that Nomad itch and she'd visit them frequently.

As she grows older she might become more accustomed to her new influence and role in the post war world, but I can't ever really see her engaging in politics on the level that Aang Katara, Sokka and Zuko would.

But I can see her trying to rebuild Earthbender culture and particularly try to bring Earthbending back to the finesse and artistry it had before the Fire Nation.

This ties back to the idea that due to the Fire Nation's constant invasion onto the Earth Kingdom, earthbending stopped being treated with the respect it used to have as a bending form. As Fire Nationals would see Earth Kingdom citizens as inferior and by extent, their bending arts. Plus rounding up all benders and locking them away wouldn't really create a space for techniques to be passed down. Additionally, Earthbenders themselves would probably have to prioritise combat based bending rather than the more artistic cultural aspects of it. Hence Earthbending being a sort of less refined or spiritual 'throw rock really hard'

While Toph doesn't have much of a regard for tradition, I think she still feels strongly about her ties to the Earth Kingdom and with timez I could see her wanting to bring Earthebender culture into the future. It could start with her pushing to relearn older techniques that were lost to time, and perhaps trying to retrieve artifacts stolen by the Fire Nation. (INDIANA JONES TOPH- *gets shot*)

Also, throughout the series we see her seem to develop an interest in non combative bending. So it would be interesting to see her try to revive artistry in earthbending, particularly sculpting. I think it would be kinda cute, since it would be the first time she would be able to engage with art without someone having to describe it for her.

Like look at how many statues of herself she made it's fucking adorable. Look at her gooo!

So I could see her following some artistic hobbies as well, maybe trying to restore old Earth Kingdom monuments and scupltures. Since I think seismic sense could help her with archeological endeavours etc, like it did with the library.

I don't know if Toph could enjoy one singular vocation, due to her constant need for challenge and stimulation, so I think travelling the world and looking for various adventures and jobs would be the best fit. Since even if she's passionate about something, she can get burnt out if things get too repetitive, as we see with her metalbending academy.

Essentially, I think she should become the dragonborn from Skyrim.

[nightwngz]

im still thinking about those Hal and Kyle fics you wrote....changed my life fr 🤞🏽omg tho I had such a romantic and lovely dream about Kyle last night so I'm feeling extra fuzzy over him rn...what would non hate sex with Kyle be like? 🙈 (as much as I also love mean Kyle 🤷🏽‍♀️) i need your thoughts...

I hope you're doing well 🥰 xoxo - nightjarwings

MISSED ME, BABE?

kyle rayner x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… fluff and smut. porn without plot. dirty talk. oral sex.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . Aside from my fantasies about Kyle being mean, he is such a sweetheart! So I feel like he would be super dedicated to making you feel comfortable. I hope you like what I've written. <3

Since your boyfriend confessed he was a Green Lantern, the first thing you asked was: which one of them? And you didn't ask because you thought Kyle might be that beautiful alien girl with lovely blonde hair, but because you hoped he would be that handsome dark-haired man in the distinctive white and black suit different from the others. You were right.

Because of his job, Kyle wasn't often at home, which made you suspect possible infidelity. What kind of artist would suddenly leave his home for days, even weeks, without even telling his partner? His actions made you suspicious, so when he returned, you confronted him, and he eventually confessed.

Fortunately for him, you felt relieved for a moment understanding that if he wasn't home, it was precisely because he was serving as an intergalactic law enforcement, which reassured you. However, as the weeks passed and the days without Kyle accumulated, you began to wonder why a large part of the universe had your boyfriend serving, while you waited for him at home with food ready in the fridge in case he decided to return. It was unfair.

Were you being selfish because you wished that he wouldn't save the world for just one day, but that he would lie down with you and hold you in bed instead?

What you wanted most at that moment was to be accompanied, as you sat bored with a bowl of soup in front of the TV, about to fall asleep. When people entered your apartment, they noticed pictures of you and Kyle everywhere, which forced you to face questions about why you live alone or if your boyfriend is even still alive, since he's never around the neighborhood like you are.

Just as your eyes are about to close, they quickly snap open as you hear the sound of keys turning in the door lock. Your heart begins to beat wildly, unable to believe that he has finally returned.

— Baby, I'm home... — You don't let him finish as you jump into his arms, kissing him as deeply as if millennia had passed since you last saw each other's faces. — Hey, hey, I missed you too, sweetheart.

— No 'I missed you, sweetheart' — you warn. — Fuck me now.

Kyle laughs. If he had seen how desperate you were, he would have come back much sooner. Still, he doesn't object to your request and blindly walks with you on top until he manages to place you on the table.

He is gentle when he kisses you, probably because he hasn't done it for a long time since he left. However, you apply pressure and surrender to his lips with devotion, enough for both of you to enjoy.

— I saw you on the news. — You gasp under your breath. — You have no idea what it's like to masturbate to a fucking picture on TV, a real horror movie.

Devouring your neck, his lips awaken sensations. His warm, calloused hand slides over your body, parting your thighs without removing any clothing, except your panties, of course. No matter how much time the two of you had together, it might never be enough until Kyle was needed for another mission.

— Do you want to talk about horrifying things? — he asked, tugging at your underwear. — Imagine me touching myself on an unknown planet with only a picture of you in my head. You have no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart; I was going crazy.

You melted under his touch, his kisses and his compliments. He kissed and caressed you as if it were the last time, in the warmest way anyone had ever bothered to do. It was even adorable how he took the time to lovingly caress your body while you could only think of reciprocating after such a long time.

His fingers entered your pussy. He looked at you in surprise, he had never felt you so wet before; you had practically soaked his entire hand. But he just smiled and decided to take responsibility for it.

— Baby, damn, you're dripping. Did you miss me that much, babe?

He lifted one of your legs and brought it up to his shoulder to get better access to your pussy. His thumb applied gentle pressure to your clit, first stimulating it, then circling around it, just as he knew you liked.

You groaned out loud, dropping your body onto the table. You couldn't see what Kyle was doing, but from how it felt, you were sure he was doing it right.

— Do you want me to eat you? — He asked, coming up for a kiss.

You nodded repeatedly, biting your lips to keep from making a loud noise. You're aware that your apartment is too small and that any neighbor could easily hear you.

Kyle pressed his lips against your folds, slowly sliding his tongue in and giving little licks so you could get used to the texture of his tongue again. You almost cried when you remembered that it had been long enough that you had forgotten how his tongue felt inside you.

But you pushed all thoughts aside and tried to enjoy the moment. Just as you bit down hard on your lip to stifle a moan, you nearly bled. Kyle was exploring a sensitive area of your body with his tongue and making gentle sucks with his lips.

Your hands intertwined with every strand of his black hair, gently pulling his head toward you. You looked at him with his mouth completely submerged between your legs, and the sight seemed glorious.

— Kyle, Kyle... — You sobbed softly with pleasure. — Don't stop, it feels amazing.

You could feel his lips curl into a smile over your pussy. Blood rushed to your cheeks, something that used to happen to you when you were close to orgasm, and he loved it so much that he couldn't think of anything else to do but kiss you all over.

A few minutes passed, but it felt like an instant. You filled Kyle's mouth with fluids and let out a moan that you couldn't contain and that the whole neighborhood probably heard. Still, he didn't stop until you were completely clean.

— I love you so much, sweetheart. I want to be as close to you as possible.