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lilakennedy · 4 months ago

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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 III

Both times you encountered Galloper Thompson in the past, he found you in less than ideal situations. This time, you're determined to seek him out...Third time's the charm, after all.

so, uh.....hi. i know it's been, what? two years? but i always said this story is NOT over yet, and i am a woman of my word. so here it is!! part three and also the longest part so far!! thank you all who have been encouraging me to continue and have waited so, so patiently!! i could go on and on about why this took so long, but that's a long story. thank you all for reading, your support and feedback means the world!! ♥ happy spooky season! tagging: @foggy-milk @wildwoods-sworn @rora-dolphinheart @dromaeo-sauridae @justagirlexistinginthisworld @everythingelsewastaken135 (^ i took this list of people that have expressed wanting to be tagged in the past, please forgive me if that has changed!) gender neutral MC! once again, nothing romantic (for now) but if anyone’s crushing on the man, i hope you have fun!! :> words: 11.8k cw: death mention, injury mention, a healing injury (MCs broken arm!) some eerie visuals - but nothing major or descriptive! english is not my first language, so some of the horse-related terminology might be off! i apologize!! ➝ pt. I ➝ pt. II

“Woah, No no no - !”

Your plea falls on deaf ears as the universe merely humours you for a second, before allowing the bag of flour to tumble and fall down the side of the counter.

The fall itself causes flour to fly out of the little paper bag and leave a trail on the cupboards doors. Until finally, it lands with a dull thud, the flour exploding into a cloud of white on impact with the tiles.

White coats your legs, feet, the poor cupboard doors and the floor where you stand, leaving you frozen for a second while you stare down at the mess you accidentally created. A huff escapes you, but before you can even reach over to salvage the last bits of flour that still remain inside the bag, the kitchen door opens.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Mrs. Holdsworth’s voice holds a playful tone to her care, seemingly getting a small laugh out of your harmless predicament. You, on the other hand, stand embarrassed and covered in flour - You had come here to offer a helping hand, not cause a mess and waste an entire bag of ingredients.

It is a pitiful image to walk in on, seeing you stand half covered in flour, an expression of a kicked dog and the stiffest posture you could force your body into.

With a sigh, you relax your muscles and bend down to pick up the paper bag with a sigh: “I didn’t notice how close it was to my…My arm...”

Mrs. Holdsworth simply gives a small chuckle from the centre of her chest, clearly not bothered by the little mishap as she steps closer to help you. With her hands, she starts to gather the spilled flour from the countertop and moves to discard it into the same trashcan you had tossed the now empty bag into.

“Will you be a doll and fetch the broom? I’ll take care of the dough in the meantime.”

Familiar enough with the house to not need any further directions, you simply nod and make your way over to the skinny broom closet just outside the kitchen - You move carefully, not wanting to spread more flour across the entire house.

It’s midday, allowing the sun to shine in through the windows of the house, nearly deceptively hiding the true chill that awaits anyone who steps outside. The winds recently have been harsh, some trees already unable to withstand the stormy nights, but luckily the damage has been minimal.

Rainstorms, foggy mornings and howling winds invite anyone to stay inside, to bundle up and get cozy in a safe, warm environment. Mrs. Holdsworth’s home is always special, a comforting yet magical space to forget the passing of time. Furniture and decor invite relaxation, little personal trinkets open conversation and questions about different things in life.

Your eyes wander over the surrounding space with a content expression, before you carefully close the closet door and make your way back to the kitchen.

The kitchen is lively, despite only you and Mrs. Holdsworth working here today. The table has baskets and bags of ingredients that are already half used up, bowls of prepared fruit and chopped ingredients, a scale stands out of its usual hidden spot on the shelves and the oven is preheating and giving a warm glow.

Mrs. Holdsworth had invited you to help her prepare a type of sweet autumn bread, and you eagerly agreed.

Your hands wrap around the broomstick without much hassle, given that the injury inside your left hand has healed entirely at this point - The incident having happened a week prior. It feels odd to think about the time that has passed since. It both feels like it happened last night and last month.

Yet, a glance at the calendar on Mrs. Holdsworth wall confirms the passage of time. The date reads a week and two days after your unfortunate, stormy trip to Golden Hills.

The cut your palm had sustained was nothing major, but it took a while longer to heal than you had anticipated. An injury on the inside of your palm, which you use daily, really is a doozy to heal without constantly irritating it.

Your right arm is still wrapped in its cast, the white material slightly grey and showing clear signs of wear. The fracture will take a while longer to heal, leaving you with this cast for at least 3 more weeks. By this point, you are used to the lack of mobility and the extra care you have to take.

Plus, having an unwieldy cast allows for easy excuses when you do mess up while zoning out, like today. The biggest downside has just been the unrelenting occasional itch beneath the plaster.

“You seem distant recently dear, what’s been occupying your mind to take you so far away all day?”

You look up at Mrs. Holdsworth, watching her dry her hands on a checkered towel by the sink. Raising your brows at her words, you turn your attention back to the floor and your broom.

“Nothing, really.” You respond nonchalantly, the movements of the broom turning more sluggish and weak as you think of what to say. “I guess I’ve just been zoning a lot.”

You crack a smile and shrug at the older woman, not wanting her to think that anything was seriously wrong. Your smiling expression is met with an unimpressed look that holds more motherly energy than you would have liked. She’s reading you.

Her brows raise and a telling smile stretches across her face, wrinkles accenting the sides of her smile.

“You should know by now that lying to me does not work.” Her voice holds a lighthearted scolding to it, making you cock your head to the side and rest your healthy arm against the broom, waiting for her to continue.

She turns back toward the counter and begins closing up some jars of ingredients. Her words are underlined by occasional glances over her shoulder toward where you stand.

“First I hear from Conrad that you nearly lost a finger while helping him due to daydreaming last week, then you mix up dates that people agreed upon for training with you and you’re constantly running late, you completely missed some things I said earlier and now you take it out on my poor, poor flour.”

The smile in her voice is audible, and you can see the corners of her eyes crease with her grin whenever she glances back at you.

“Half of those are because of my ar -”

“Hush, do not blame it all on your broken wrist!” Mrs. Holdsworth cuts you off, ”I have seen your face and your eyes, you’re daydreaming yourself away to something else!”

She turns to face you fully, her expression a fond annoyance toward your attempts to lie. Her arm reaches over to take the broom from you, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

But as you look down, you notice the flour is entirely gone; Both on the floor and on your clothes.

It takes a second for the thought to settle in: ‘Magic, right.’

Magic on Jorvik is more common than you ever would have assumed, and you have gotten used to it over the time you have spent here - But recently Magic seems to be more at the forefront of your mind than ever before, and not for reasons any of the people around you would like.

The brooch and strip of fabric still are in your possession. In the week that has passed since you got those peculiar items, you haven’t told a soul. Partly because you want to keep it a secret for your own safety, and partly because you don’t even know what to do going forward.

Your initial plan was to return it back to the man that had given it to you, seeing as it was mostly borrowed, rather than gifted. But with the weather changing from unpleasant to downright dangerous, you haven’t had a chance to venture out on another trip all the way into the hills.

And with this week that passed, you had time to think - And it drove you to overthink, now leaving you with a unique type of choice paralysis.

What if the items are cursed or will bring harm to you or your loved ones? Maybe you should go stand by the shores of Moorland and toss the brooch as far as your arm allows, watching it go beneath the waves and never turn back.

But - What if you were to keep it? A souvenir of something that will probably never repeat in your lifetime, something to memorise these odd events. Something other than an X-Ray of a broken arm, that is. This train of thought always leads you to huff at your extremely sentimental take on it all, but part of you is stubborn and wants to keep this adventure close.

And the plan of returning it to him? You aren’t even quite sure how to start this plan. Both times you met with the headless horseman, it was because he found you. It’s likely that he can’t be found unless he chooses to be.

So with that issue, you aren’t quite sure where to begin - The idea of camping out in the hills entered your mind a few times, but Aideen knows you would get hurt again.

“Ow!!” A yelp escapes you while your hand flies up to the source of the pain by your ear. Mrs. Holdsworth had pinched you, seeing you spiral back into your own mind despite the ongoing conversation.

You look over to her, seeing her expression holding no real harsh emotion, but instead something akin to a teasing smile of disbelief.

Rubbing your poor ear, you pout for a moment when she begins to talk.

“I know that look, that’s the look of a young soul falling into fascination with something magical. I have seen that look on many people on this island, I have seen it on myself when I was still young and beginning to unravel the island’s secrets!”

She shakes her head slightly, the smile never leaving her features as you shift your weight slightly. Her eyes hold a sincerity that was not there during her earlier teasing jokes. It makes you relax as you listen to her words, cherishing the time she spends with you.

“You’re falling in love with something magical, and for your sake, I hope it is safe.”

A moment of comfortable, important silence rests between the two of you. With a smile on your face, you give a little nod, reassuring her that you are indeed safe. Mrs. Holdsworth returns the nod with the crows feet by her eyes deepening as her smile stretches just a bit wider.

Deep down, you wonder if what you are doing truly is keeping you safe or spelling out something terrible for your future. But for now, you’ll nod.

Abruptly, she steps back and throws her hands up, speaking while turning back toward the oven.

“Or maybe you’re just a lovesick fool that’s busy daydreaming and little old me is looking too deep into things!”

Nearly offended and embarrassed at her backtracking, you gasp out a ‘Hey!’ which causes the old witch to give a hearty laugh.

It is roughly 2 hours later when you leave the small, cozy home with some freshly baked apple bread in your bag and a piece of it between your teeth. You make your way down the path in front of Mrs. Holdsworth's house, munching away on the still warm bread.

The biting cold is a harsh contrast to the warm place you had been staying at for the earlier hours of the day, the soft smell of home cooked foods has been replaced by the scent of yesterday's rain and the hay of the stables.

Winds whisper and howl through every fence and past the corners of each building, a particularly strong gust pushing you forward as if nature itself is urging you to hurry back into a warmer place.

You merely give a hum in return, acknowledging the wind's attempts but not moving to rush much faster, still chewing bites of warm bread while you let your eyes wander around.

Moorland is empty, for the most part. The paths abandoned while people exercise caution against the unpredictable weather, not wanting to put themselves or their horses in danger.

Right now the weather is unruly, but bearable - Still, the winds have a habit of turning fast, catching many people off guard in these past weeks. Every small gap in your clothes invites a chill down your spine once the cold slithers its way against your skin, led by the howls of wind.

An audible shiver leaves your lips as you try to huddle further into your clothing, the final bite of the baked goods disappearing between your teeth, allowing you to bury your hands into the pockets of your coat. The cast around your right arm makes the entire ordeal a bit stiff, but not impossible.

The warm pockets of your coat are welcomed around your hands, shielding them from the cool winds and inviting you to snuggle into the fabric even further, like a turtle retreating into its shell.

It does not take long for another, different type of shiver to run through you as your hand brushes cold metal, resting inside your left pocket. The sensation causes your steps to falter for a second, your walking speed slowing down to something more uneven while you make your way down the path that will lead you to the side of the stables.

Your hand tightens around the golden brooch resting in the deep pocket of your coat, allowing your thumb to gently brush along the symbols engraved in it. A symbol you have memorised at this point, a result of staring at the little item and trying to make sense of your current situation.

The brooch and the little tied piece of green fabric have been on your person since the day you had received them. Something about the idea of leaving them laying around where someone could find or take them struck a cord inside you - So instead you decided to always keep it with you.

It’s a plan you cannot think about for too long, because once the worry of it being cursed creeps back into your mind, the items weigh ten times heavier against your side. Yet, you like to tell yourself that you’re keeping it so you can dispose of it when the time is right, that you are only keeping it close to you so you can throw it aside somewhere no one will find it again.

But the truth is, you just don’t want someone else to steal it. It has become something you wish to keep safe, as if you were asked to watch over it and now you cannot just haphazardly toss it to someone else.

Plus, you still have to take caution with the people around you - For their safety, and yours. Aideen knows what would happen if you were to spill your new story to any random person. Most would probably see it as a silly ghost story, see it as made up to garner attention.

You twirl the piece of fabric around your fingers like a ribbon. It gets caught on your knuckles occasionally, the brooch in your palm very much limiting the movement of your fingers.

The path beneath your boots changes to cobblestone when you reach the Moorland stables, seeing a few people rushing back and forth to finish their tasks before the weather turns too aggressive.

A few friendly nods to the people around you, hurried steps and the sounds of a few boxes getting knocked over by the wind are all that follows while you make your way to your stable doors. Familiar scents and sounds greet you as you step inside, readying for a few hours of work.

The hay in the wheelbarrow muffles your sound of frustration as you let yourself plop chest-first into the clean pile of it that you’ve been wheeling around. Immediately, strands of golden hay stick to your clothing and hair, but you pay it no mind, given that you are already covered in hay, dust and horse hairs from the tasks you had been crossing off of today’s list.

Despite your sore muscles and the splinter you had somehow managed to get on one of the storage doors, neither are the reasons for you deflating like a balloon forgotten behind a child’s bedroom door. No, no. Your mind has been reeling with trying to figure out how to handle dealing with a maybe-cursed object. The constant mental back and forth has been taking a genuine toll on you, as the possible stakes of your current situation dawning on you more with each passing hour. It’s like something is hellbent on wearing you thin, stretching you until something inside your spine will snap with the most unpleasant and nauseating sound.

The idea of keeping that damned brooch makes a little voice inside your screech with absolute, stubborn terror. What if it brings terrible things to your doorstep? What if you weren’t even meant to keep it for this long? Another thing that worries you is still the idea of someone else finding it.

Carefully, you use your arms to push yourself upward slightly, your hips and waist bearing most of your weight against the hay while your chest lifts. It takes a second of rummaging, but you manage to pull the brooch out of your pocket. With an expression of frustration and confusion across your face, you look at it.

You cock your head to the side while you let yourself drop back onto the hay, your arm extended forward to keep the brooch in your line of sight.

For what feels like the millionth time, you run your thumb along the metal. Your eyes intently focus on it, glaring nearly, as if to try and intimidate an answer out of the poor brooch itself. The green fabric brushes along your skin a few times as you do so.

While you remain deeply focused on the small antique accessory, your horse is slowly but surely getting more and more interested in the tasty hay you are laying on. Reaching its neck down and stretching to its best effort, your Equine companion easily begins to munch on the very hay you are laying on, seemingly uninterested in your 50th dramatic brainstorming session.

Could anyone blame you? What took place by the gate to Golden Hills has been on an uninterrupted loop in your mind. You remember it all so, so clearly. It is as if your own mind will not allow you to forget it.

The wooden beams and boards of the stables around you creak with the howling winds outside. A soundscape you had gotten used to years ago, yet it still invites to shiver and glance around oneself. Alongside this eerie groan and howl, you hear your horse chewing on the hay you had been planning to place into its stall for the past 10 minutes.

You fumble with the brooch for a few more seconds, flipping it in your hand the same way it has been flipping your daily routine on its head. Swiftly, you pocket it once more. The added weight in your pocket no longer feels alien to you.

During these harsh conditions and downright dangerous storms, travelling all the way up to Golden Hills alone would be impossible. If you were to go, you’ll surely have to at least pass the next three or four days.

The noise that leaves your lips is one of reluctant acceptance.

With every sunset and sunrise, you nearly feel yourself beginning to count the hours. It is odd, really. This mix of excitement and dread that flows through your veins. It becomes especially prominent when you lay down to rest, be it to sleep or just to relax for a while. Your head begins to spin with the amount of thoughts whipping back and forth inside your skull, your stomach begins to tie into knots and despite these anxiety induced symptoms, there remains the giddiness of a child prior to christmas eve.

Your thoughts range from mildly worried, over hesitant excitement all the way down to disturbing. Most recurring being the idea of someone finding your dead body between some bushes at the side of the valley, and because no one knows of your little adventures, it would take them weeks to find you. You try not to let this thought take up too much of your mental capacity. How do you do this? Well, with a somewhat comforting, yet equally eerie fact you can’t dodge; If Thompson had wanted you dead, he probably would have done so on your first meeting.

Now here is to hoping you aren’t about to overstay your welcome with the headless phantom.

It is nearly comical, how the first thing you do every morning is pull the blinds and curtains aside, craning your neck at weird angles to see as much of the sky as you possibly could. Every morning so far, you were greeted with harsh winds and rain hitting your window in a relentless rhythm. But not today.

Today your eyes scan across a slightly overcast sky, the trees of Moorland swaying in the wind much more gently than they have in the recent week. The clouds are grey, yet not as heavy. A few wisps of white clouds dance in between, too - Some spots even allow you to catch a glimpse of the sunrise.

Something gleams in your eyes for a second and your heart leaps into your throat. Today’s the day, you think to yourself. Your grasp on your curtain tightens for a second as you give a grin at the sky, trying your best to fight the nervousness crawling under your skin.

Throughout the day, you do everything you can to prepare for your planned trip, hoping to be more prepared this time. Your plan consists of just setting up a small tent in the mountains and …Well,waiting.

Deep down you’re fully aware that Thompson would not just let you walk around and find him like just any other person. You had come to that conclusion a good while ago already.

An alternative plan had been to just walk around and try to call out for him, waving the brooch around like you’re trying to lure a dog back with a treat. The mental image gave you a small chuckle at the time, but you realise it might not be the smartest idea.

If you set up camp like planned, you could sit for hours and hope he might want that damned brooch back, leading him to decide to show up on his own accord. In your eyes, it feels like the safest and most respectful route. And you hope to Aideen that you are right.

Your travel to Golden Hills is pleasant, your improvised camping set safely stored away in one of the bigger saddlebags you had laying around. The one person tent folds and rolls up small enough to fit, along with some snacks you had made, water and a thermos full of a nice, hot drink. You made sure to shove the thermos into the bag extra harshly, some personal grudge still lingering against the object. Tossed along with the small set is a pack of bandaids. A rolled up blanket is, somewhat haphazardly, fastened to the bag as well. The brooch remains in the pocket of your coat that you’ve thrown over multiple layers of clothes to keep warm.

During your travels, your heart begins to race more and more as you get closer to the gate that will lead you into Goldenhills. The ride itself remains mostly comfortable, even if the occasional harsh wind has you squinting while trying to escape the flurry of leaves tossed at your face.

And at some points, you swear, your horse is giving you very judgemental glances. As if it weren't its very own fault that you even encountered the man in the first place! You huff to yourself, feeling accomplished with your imagined little argument against your horse.

It takes a good while to reach Golden Hills, but then begins the search for a nice spot to set up camp. It cannot be anywhere that would pose too much of a risk should the weather turn too harsh, but also nowhere you’d be spotted by every single passerby.

Your horse’s hooves carefully carry you along the still slightly muddy terrain, across all the winding paths through valleys and hills. The landscapes still leave you in awe as the crisp autumn afternoon air fills your lungs. You can’t help but enjoy the colourful surroundings, the endless patterns of gold, red and dark green leaves that make you feel as if you had accidentally stepped into a painting.

It feels nearly serene, were it not for the rapid heartbeat in your chest as you find yourself wondering whether he is already aware of your presence.

An idea pops into your mind. The idea of just placing the brooch on a rock at the side of the pathways and leaving it be, to avoid another encounter. Despite your anxiety, this idea is quickly shoved aside, simply because your feeling of responsibility over the small item is still there. The idea of leaving it out here, where any man or animal could mar and break it…It doesn’t sit right with you. So you press onward, keeping your eyes out.

Satisfaction puts a smile on your face when you finally come across a spot that seems fitting for your little plans. Higher up in the mountainside of goldenhills, surrounded by a few old stone structures and kept mostly dry by the old, large trees stretching upwards as if to poke the clouds that loom.

Over the course of the next hour, you are hard at work. With some struggle and help from nearby rocks to use as stepladders, you fasten a high line for your horse between two sturdy trees. After making sure the rope was a comfortable length for your companion, you make sure to give them a few pats and a very much needed kiss on their big, old nose.

Next, you begin to set up your tent with just a …Tiny bit of struggle.

Its small size luckily makes it easier once you get a good idea of what goes where. You give a relieved sigh once you finally place the wool blanket in the bottom of the tent. You crawl over it on your knees to place it properly, and then promptly turn around to drop on your back. Your hands are folded on your stomach as you take a breather. Doing all of this with essentially one arm was tougher than it looked.

The front of the tent is wide open, the entire structure currently functioning as more of a roof than a closed tent. With your legs comfortably stretched outward as you sit up, you rest with your thermos in hand. The hot drink warms your hands as you hold it close to your face. The steam of it gently sways across your face while your eyes look out over the scenery of Goldenhills and Jorvik beyond it. In the distance, you hear animals scuttering and leaves rustling with the wind. Soon enough, the audible breeze that had combed through the trees further away has reached you now, leaving you with a chill down your arms.

With a sip from the small metal cup in your hands, your entire body and soul begin to warm up more and more. You gently smile as you glance over to your horse, who has been utterly enthralled in eating all the grass in sight. Their tail gently sways, the relaxed posture also making you feel a bit more at ease. Maybe this entire trip would be more calm than you had expected.

Time passes, as evident by the slowly sinking sun and the clock on your phone racing through the afternoon hours. You don’t plan to camp the entire night or sleep out here. You told yourself that the latest you’ll stay is midnight, then you’d make your way back home.

With a quiet noise of struggle leaving your throat, you lean to the side, trying to reach your bag and open it with one hand. Once you manage to get a good hold of it and you’re sure it won't topple over and spill all the contents onto the ground, you reach into it. Your hand rummages for a short moment while your eyebrows furrow. Despite your short struggle you manage to pull out the small, battery powered LED lantern you packed.

The switch at the bottom is flipped and the little light comes to life, the warm white LED illuminating your improvies campsite in lieu of the sun that continues to sink lower.

You look over to where your horse stands by your right. They seem relaxed, idly looking around, ears curious and nose getting stuck into every leaf and shrubbery to inspect it. The sight makes you smile.

As if to directly counter the gentle scene in front of you, you hear aggressive rustling. You snap your head into the direction of the sound, over to the old trees the sound seems to be coming from. Your shoulders are tense and in the corner of your eyes you can see the way your horse seems to be alert. But it all mellows back out once you realise it’s merely two birds having a short tussle up in the crowns of the trees, the flapping of wings and a few short annoyed screeches making the situation more clear. After a second, your horse also seems to be way less interested in the sounds. With a nervous, relieved little smile, you bring your hand to rest on your chest and try to get your heart rate to go back down to something more reasonable. You feel the way it’s hammering inside your ribcage, but it soon relaxes. Still, the singular harmless scare is enough to keep your anxiety at a heightened state. Your eyes flicker around your surroundings, seeing shapes and movement in the shadows that reveal themselves as leaves and their shadows once you actually look closer. Your brain is busy handing you various terrible, worst case scenarios and suddenly you feel very exposed where you sit. You scooch backward into your tent a bit.

Mrs. Holdsworth’s words come to your mind, how she had read you like a book not too long ago. How you had given her your word that you’re safe with whatever you are messing around with…

With a calming breath, you let your hand wrap around the silver thermos again, opting to take a few more sips of your warm drink to try and keep your anxiety down, trying to ignore the tension in your back. You glance over to your companion again and a dark thought comes to your mind. What if they get hurt because of your little risky adventures? An undeniable pang of worry and guilt shoots through your chest at the thoughts, your expression pulling into a frown. You carefully adjust your hold on the small metal cup and bring it to your lips.

You recall all the stories you have heard of encounters with the horseman, and in each of them one thing remains clear - None of the horses were ever hurt. The realisation brings a downright bizarre mixture of relief and horror. If things do indeed go south, at least your best friend would be fine. For a brief moment you start to wonder if others would take good care of them, but you decide to kill that train of thought quicker than your brain had decided to kill you off in that made-up scenario.

You’ll be fine. You’re sure of it. Your biggest enemy as of right now were two magpies in the trees above.

Bit by bit, the drink in your thermos dwindles down to a few drops, the wind becomes more chilly and the ground under you is becoming gradually more uncomfortable to sit on. You adjust your seated posture a bit, hoping to get more comfortable while you screw the thermos shut for the last time that night.

Without being able to hold a warm cup or sip on a steaming drink, the coldness of the evening makes itself known to your skin and bones. You haven’t checked the time in a while but it sure does feel like you have been here all night.

The brightness of your phone screen is turned all the way down, causing it to barely add light to the scenery when you do check the time - 9:55PM. A huff leaves you at that. You had been out here for quite a while. But you aren’t going to back down now! Or at least, you aren’t planning to…

It feels like another 5 hours have passed, but it has been roughly 30 minutes. Your eyes keep wandering around the dark and undisturbed scenery below the hills. You can see the light of a few ferries from up here and even the lighthouse sometimes peeks through the trees, so subtle you could miss it.

Then, you hear it - Hooves. Their sound is muffled by the leaves and soil, but their rhythm is unmistakable. You swear, every hair on your body is standing on end as soon as the sound registers, breaking into the soundscape of the night that you had grown so used to in the past hours.

You lean forward instinctively, your heart-rate picking up once more. Could it be? Did you downright silly plan work? Did the waiting pay off?

Quickly, your eyes flicker across your surroundings, trying to spot the familiar glow, the familiar colours, the familiar and eerie sight. Trying to spot anything to confirm your expectations.

All you can do is hope the random rider did not see the utter disappointment that crosses your expression once they round the corner.

Seated on a dapple grey horse, is a rider from the fishing village. You remember seeing them occasionally whenever you would travel all the way up to Goldenleaf. Their own expression is one of gentle surprise, clearly not having expected anyone up here. Nevertheless a small camp.

“Oh, hi there!” They speak up, a smile audible in their voice while their horse comes to a stop not too far from your little spot. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Relaxed and with a small smile of your own, you wave them off, letting them know that its genuinely no hassle or issue. Even while you are talking with the stranger, a small voice in the back of your mind is stomping its feet in disappointment.

“Don’t worry, it’s quite alright! This isn’t the most common spot for people to sit, anyways.” You reply to their apology with a soft shrug, pointing out the bizarre choice of yours with some humour. The stranger gives an amused snort at that.

The person seems to be a bit younger than you, but not by much. A year or two, maybe. Their face is partially hidden by a big scarf, their attire clearly showing they had been out in the cold for a while. Your own brows furrow slightly when you see their slightly embarrassed expression turn into something more akin to…Concern.

“I heard that they sent out another storm warning for tonight. You, uh, might want to head down to the stables to avoid getting surprised by it, just in case.”

Their tone is genuine, their worry clear as they glance around and upward to the still cloudy skies, as if to try and predict the storm’s arrival.

Hearing the news makes your shoulders slump. It makes sense, you think to yourself, you’ve been sitting up here all evening with barely working mobile data to connect you to the internet. A storm warning would easily have been missed by you. You internally wince at that oversight. You could have really put yourself and your horse in danger.

You give the stranger a hum of acknowledgement.

“Ah, thank you for telling me.” You begin to get up onto your feet, brushing some dried grass off of your pants as you do so. “I probably should head down, then.”

The conversation between you and the stranger continues for a minute. They offer to help you pack up your things, but you assure them you got it. The two of you discuss the recent, insane weather and the frequent thunderstorms. They share a few stories from Goldenleaf and troubles the stable had faced, and you discuss some events from Moorland in a matching tone of exhaustion at the constant weather precautions.

You can’t help but feel grateful at how kind this rider is, offering to wait until you’re done so neither of you had to ride back down alone. Yet a part of you is worried at how willing they are to help you out, making you hope they aren’t too open and kind to just any stranger out here. Despite this, the conversation remains light and you even laugh at a few things while you pack the last few things into your bag.

Unbeknownst to you, the fiery eyes of an all too familiar mare had been keeping you in direct line of sight, sharp and focused as her and her rider want to ensure your safe departure, even from a distance. The stranger at your side seems to pose no threat whatsoever, yet the mare does not move, does not turn away until you and your horse have made your way down the path toward the village…

With all your things packed back into your bag and your horse being given a few treats for having been so patient with your recent escapades, you begin your ride down the hills.

Your newest companion, the stranger from Goldenleaf, is ahead of you and setting a relaxed pace down the winding paths. Around you the trees loom tall and imposing as if to remind you that they have been here long before you and will continue to remain here long after you.

Each dried leaf that breaks under your horse's hoof is audible, the forest silent besides the nocturnal animals that continue to move around for food and safety. All the colours you had seen earlier, the scenery akin to brushstrokes in an expensive painting, now are swallowed by the dark of night, everything falling into a dim, blue hue.

You give a soft sigh, upset with how quickly your plans for the evening were forced to change. With a torn expression, you glance back the way you came from and up at the skies. No matter how determined you are to see this through, it would be idiotic to put yourself and your horse in danger for it.

The thought itself feels ironic, labelling the storm as dangerous but not the deadly omen you are so keen on meeting again. Maybe this is your saving grace, maybe Aideen has extended you her mercy and sent this kind stranger to get you out of harm's way. Maybe you should take this as your sign to stop chasing after something that could spell your demise.

A rational corner of your brain seems to flicker back and forth between things. It reminds you how he has not harmed you in the past, but that does not mean you are safe in future encounters. You still do not know him. You do not have any idea of what to expect from him and how you might be pushing your luck with the headless horseman.

Your expression is a slight grimace of frustration and inner turmoil, a displeased scowl on your face as you can’t help the huff that escapes you. You can’t tell if your frustration comes from the fact that you now had to remain intertwined with it all for longer, with the brooch still in your possession - Or if it stems from not being able to have your next encounter with Thompson.

Carefully, you adjust your balance when your horse has to step over a particularly large branch. It must have been torn down in the recent storms, you note to yourself. You keep your eyes on the side of the branch, trying to make sure your horse doesn’t get caught on anything.

And that’s when you see it. So subtle in the corner of your eye, you might have missed it. There, in the distance, is a flicker in the thicket.

You turn your head to look at it better, to see it more clearly. And sure enough, it’s there and it’s moving. The dense trees, bushes and the overall uneven terrain of Golden Hills make it hard to gauge the distance, but it seems to be quite far back.

With your breath hitching, you nearly don’t want to take your eyes off of it, scared you won’t be able to spot it again if you were to lose it now. It’s not long before your heart shoots up into your throat, your thoughts going into too many directions at once.

Your horse is still continuing their leisurely pace down the hill, the ride in front of you also visibly relaxed on the short journey. You’re going to have to make a decision, and you have to make it fast - With every step you’re not only losing more of the visibility, but also time.

What if it’s just a lantern and you’re doing this for nothing? The question is quickly tossed aside, simply because lanterns do not move like that. They do not illuminate like that. You swear that suddenly, the brooch weighs a ton as it rests in your pocket, the weight of it so much more prominent as you forget to breathe. Now or never. But is it smart to rush back into something you seem to have narrowly avoided..?

“H-hey,” You call out to the rider ahead of you, mentally cursing the small quiver in your tone as you try to hide your racing thoughts once they turn their torso to face you. “I forgot something up there, you go on ahead. I’ll be down in a bit!”

Gently letting your horse come to a stop, you watch as the other person does the same. Their expression shows slight surprise, slight concern, before they smile.

“Okay, well... Just make sure you make it back down in time!”

“Of course, thank you, again.”

You wave at them with an expression of gratitude for their help, and they return it before continuing along with their horse. You watch them for a second, watching the way they idly continue downhill, to the warm, safe stables with multiple other people and a lack of danger. For a second, you hesitate. You should just follow them. You should leave, get some food in your system, rest and leave this behind you.

Looking back uphill to your right, you nearly cannot see the warm flickers anymore, making you picture just how far the intimidating mare must have stepped away already. You grit your teeth.

The dirt under your horses galloping hooves is kicked up wildly, the leaves crunching and rustling as you and your companion continue at a nearly urgent pace. The branch your horse had so carefully stepped over is now leapt across with little hassle. You can feel the way the cold air becomes biting wind against your face as your horse rushes back up the hill. Between trees and rocks, traversing hills and dips in the ground with elegance and strength. You can feel the wind in your hair as you make your way up to where you had initially seen the flickering flames.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, threatening to break your ribs with the force it seems to have, while your pulse is rushing in your ears. Somehow you simultaneously hope to find him and find nothing at the same time. But, if your sudden turn around is anything to go by, one part seems to outweigh the other, even if you’re not willing to admit it to yourself just yet.

Coming to a stop quite a distance behind your earlier campsite, you look around, trying to spot which direction they must have gone. Instinctively you look for any remains on the ground, any signs of those fiery hooves having made their way through here, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. Your mind goes back to the last encounters with her, and you do recall the way her flaming form seems to not cause harm to her surroundings…

With your lips pursed, you look back up, your eyes slightly narrow and your breath still to completely focus on any giveaway. Any light. Any sign. Your fingers twitch around the reigns you’re holding, anticipation in your veins keeping you tense like a bowstring.

A confused gasp leaves you once you spot another flicker of light, but…It’s wrong. You can’t pinpoint it exactly, the short flicker and flash of it having been way too short to even properly look at it but, it seems…Wrong.

It seems too cold in its hue, too chaotic in its brightness and, horrifyingly, too close to you.

The light that you assume to be Thompson and his mare was quite the distance away when you last saw it move through the gaps between trees and shrubbery, far enough away that it nearly feels fruitless to continue after them. But this flicker…It seems to have been just a few metres away from you and your horse. You can even feel the way your companion seems to grow somewhat anxious, which is not usually their behaviour around the headless phantom. You watch their tail swishing and ears moving around. It can’t have been him, you conclude.

You keep your eyes focused on the area you had caught the flicker in, waiting with baited breath to spot it again. With a gentle hand you make sure to give your horse some soothing pats along its neck, quietly speaking to calm them down.

Something about the situation puts a rock into your ribcage, a heavy weight dragging down like lead, resting at the base of your chest and nearly crushing your diaphragm with a cold, cold instinct of fear. It’s deadly silent for a moment, only the wind reminding you of your surroundings as it rustles the leaves.

Before you can think further about any of the things you feel under your skin, your eyes widen and immediately snap over to the light once more. This time you catch it more clearly, the way it seems to rush from behind the trees to a different spot. At first it reminds you of someone in a reflective coat, something you’d see worn near the streets of town to avoid accidents. But it doesn’t quite line up, especially given that it just…Disappears.

Your face is scrunched up in confusion. Is it a reflection from somewhere else that looks bizarre up here? Is it some swarm of insects buzzing about that gleam and glitter? No, no it’s too bright for that, you’re sure. It can’t be a person, it doesn’t seem to be an animal. Is your mind playing tricks on you? Are your eyes seeing flickers where there are none?

The unease is still sticking to you like wax when you urge your horse to continue forward once more, moving in a trot and trying to put distance between yourself and that specific spot. A shuddering sigh leaves your lips while your brain continues to race, trying to figure out what you had just seen. You opt to push it into the back of your mind for now, not wanting to freak yourself out over what could very well have been nothing of note.

With newfound determination, you focus your gaze back upward to the faraway rows of trees, all but straining your eyes to find the familiar, less unnerving glow again. When you do notice it again, your shoulders relax a bit, glad that you did not lose them during that odd startle. Once again you cannot help but wonder if all these interruptions are trying to tell you something, trying to keep you away, keep you safe.

You’re about to urge your horse to pick up its pace again and rush after the deadly duo, when you suddenly hear a voice call out from behind you. You twist your upper body somewhat uncomfortably while simultaneously stopping your horse in its tracks. Wide eyes and furrowed brows put your face into an expression of confusion and alertness. The voice was clearly audible, but the words seem to have muddled together, your brain unable to pull it apart into a coherent sentence. You stare behind yourself for a moment longer, ears and eyes focused to try and hear it again, to see something.

After another uneventful moment, you chalk it up to pareidolia of the howling winds and move onward.

Back in your earlier gallop, you rush through the autumnal forest, the cover of the night nearly threatening to swallow you and your horse whole, but you remain hellbent to reach your destination. You cannot help but wonder if Thompson and his mare are already long aware of you giving chase after them. You can only hope and pray to Aideen that they do not see your actions as aggressive or malicious.

A satisfied gleam enters your eyes, nearly making them sparkle in the dark of night. You’re getting closer, you can see it. They must be moving at a more relaxed pace. Oddly enough, the mental image of the headless horseman and his companion on a relaxed, calm walk through the woods evokes a feeling in your chest you cannot quite pinpoint.

Thinking back to when you had last seen them, the way they interacted with each other, that sacred bond they so clearly share and the way it felt wrong to be close enough to them to nearly feel it. The thought of them, together and undisturbed in the stillness before a storm, Thompsons oddly gentle demeanour and his mares confidence - It nearly makes you want to smile.

Any thoughts in your mind halt with a screech and the next second brings utter chaos. First you barely spot what is happening, second your horse sears upward, forcing you to lean into the movement to keep your balance.

In front of you appears a cold, white shape, before it quickly seems to rush behind a nearby tree that’s surrounded by shrubbery. Your eyes are wide and a startled, short gasp leaves your lips at the sight.

You huff when the front hooves of your horse hit the ground again, the thud dull and loud. Immediately, you begin to soothe them, leaning forward into their neck somewhat to ease them out of their panic as you embrace and pet them carefully.

“It’s okay…” You speak, voice hushed as your eyes continue to move around frantically. Your hands are beginning to tremble, your fingers unsteady against your horse's fur. You can nearly feel the way all the colour has drained out of your face.

The only thing on your mind is the way that damned thing moved. How human it moved. The way it appeared out of nowhere, the way it looked so unnatural yet each movement looked nearly human, just ever so slightly uncanny.

Your mind is running wild, wondering if you’re encountering a ghost, a spirit. You nearly call that idea silly but then you remember everything else you’ve been experiencing and suddenly the thought seems more plausible than ever.

When you try to recall what this…Thing looked like, you struggle. You can’t quite make out what its height was, your angle from atop the horse skewing the perspective slightly, and the way you startled definitely did not help. You can’t remember any expression, a face - The thought only makes you shudder.

Your entire body feels like jello after multiple startles, yet somehow your muscles feel tense and rock solid. One more thing like that and you’d drop dead off of your horse, you think to yourself.

Whatever this thing is, it seems to be following you, maybe even taunting you. Yet it seems nearly…Innocent in what it does, startling you and then hiding again, it reminds you of a child, misbehaving and messing around, and then hiding as soon as the adults react.

Trying to keep your heart from reaching up into your throat, you continue onwards, this time at a walking pace. It’s at this point that you realise that you have entirely lost the last little flickers that alerted you to where the mysterious mare and her rider have disappeared off to. Your entire rush back up into the hills is for nothing, you realise.

Your shoulders slump and an annoyed scoff escapes you.

“Shit.” Your voice is low, your tone defeated and resigned. You not only gave up your opportunity at a comfortable rest by Goldenleaf and getting back home before rainfall, but you risked your safety by blindly running back up the hills in the pitch black all for…Nothing. You chew the inside of your lip, feeling nearly bashful that it backfired so badly and -

“That’s a bad word!”

You nearly topple off of your saddle as you give a short yelp. You twist your neck to the left so fast you swear you feel something pull.

Standing to your left, barely distinguishable, is a child. His short frame is wrapped in some unnatural, ethereal white glow. The kid’s entire shape seems to be obscured by it and it’s hard to tell where the kid’s form ends and the white glow begins. The glow is subtle, all things considered, but it still faintly illuminates the surrounding leaves.

Your shoulder slump, a cold sadness grabbing hold of your heart. A child. A ghostly, young boy who is currently grinning up at you, giggling at the fact that you just swore. His face is hard to focus on, his shape clearly not meant to be seen by the human eye, but you can still see his soft face squishing together with his big grin.

You feel frozen. There is the undeniable urge to hold the boy in your arms, to comfort him, to bring him home to his parents, to weep. He cannot be older than seven years. The weight of that realisation makes your throat run dry, the faintest sting of tears in your eyes. What had happened to such a young kid..?

Looking down at the boy, your mind doesn’t even have the room or time to freak out at the fact that this seems to be a ghost, a real ghost right in front of you. All you can focus on is how small he is, how young he looks, how wrong it looks to see him in this undead state.

He’s holding his hands behind his back, wobbling back and forth on his feet, still smiling up at you, amused at having caught an adult being bad. The giddy posture of his just makes you swallow the lump in your throat, unsure what to even say. The boy beats you to it, either way.

“You can’t say those things!” His voice is light, like a windchime, but slightly hard to understand and nearly muffled. You can hear the excitement in his tone, the soft giggle. Oh, how your chest is aching. “What will your mama think!?”

You can’t help but give the boy a smile, the sadness in it would be evident to anyone older, but the boy clearly misses the heaviness of your tone as you reply:

“You’re right… Y-you got me.” You swallow down more emotions that threaten to bubble up. You can feel the way your horse remains alert, curious but it doesn’t seem to be unnerved or tense. Somehow, that just makes you even sadder.

When you open your mouth to ask the boy what he’s doing out here, you’re cut off by the sounds of heavy hooves. Your eyes widen a fraction and in the corner of your vision you can see the way your horse’s ears move to point toward the source of the sound.

Hesitant to take your eyes off of the small, ghostly child, you turn to look up toward the right. And sure enough, the sight makes the air leave your lungs.

Your eyes immediately meet the gaze of the mare, and as always, it feels like she is able to peer right into your heart and soul. For a second, you wonder if she truly can. Her pace is relaxed, her head somewhat low as she seems to be in no rush. Her imposing energy nearly makes you wish you had not gone through with this plan. The entire evening, things seemingly tried to lure you away from the headless horseman, yet you pushed past it all. And now you are facing the consequences, her eyes intelligent and sharp.

Allowing your eyes to move upward, you let your gaze wander over Thompson. Your eyes stay on the ripped fabric that still hangs by his chest, knowing the missing piece is in your very own pocket. The thought makes your pulse spike, your posture tense.

Mare and rider both seem relaxed, moving in a shallow curve to come to a stop in front of you, but facing the child. With the way they're standing, you're looking directly at the mare's side at a slight angle. What breaks the silence, is another giggle from the young boy, who is still standing off to the side.

You can see his giddy body language continue, one hand clumsily on his face as he grins big and bright. It’s like watching a young kid play hide and seek, giggling when they are found and wanting nothing more than to continue playing.

The mare gives a huff through her nose, her fiery mane flickering in the wind, its warmth reaching you in mere seconds of proximity. Without the rain you had seen her in last time, you are actually able to spot the way small embers fly upward in between the flames, floating up into the air like stars.

For a moment it nearly seems like Thompson and the boy are having a conversation you cannot hear, something you are not able to catch. You notice the way Thompson’s gloved hand adjusts his holds on the reigns, his arms relaxed as he does this.

Meanwhile, your own knuckles are nearly white under your gloves and your jaw is so tense it might just snap. Tonight has been nothing but confusing, throwing you off of your balance at every turn it seems to get. The scene in front of you is far from what you could have ever expected.

Your gaze snaps over to Thompson when you catch movements from him, your eyes widening and your mouth tightening into a thin line as you watch the way he draws his sword from where it is strapped to his back.

The blade glimmers in the flickering light of the mare’s flames, the sight of it making your blood run cold and your mind flare up in absolute terror and confusion. Your heart is beating loudly in your ears. Watching him wordlessly, you sit in your saddle absolutely shocked.

What is he drawing his sword against? The child!? You!? Both seem utterly asinine, but as your mind jumps to worst case scenarios, you cannot help but hope it is you instead of the poor boy. A voice in your mind is loudly demanding to grab your reins and make down the hill as fast as possible, to get away from the deadly omen that has just drawn a weapon in your presence. But deep down, you know that if he is planning to harm you, even running wouldn’t help you. So as helpless as watching the reaper angle a scythe, you keep your eyes on him.

Forgetting to breathe, you watch the way he lowers his sword to his side, his shoulder moving when he twists the handle in his hand to adjust his grip on it. The ease with which he does this clearly tells you just how used he is to the shape and weight of it in his hand. Even though he isn’t even turned toward you, the thought makes you swallow dryly.

You try to find answers in the mare and Thompson’s posture, but both seem neither agitated nor tense. Thompson’s movements seem stern, but not…Threatening.

His right arm is extended to the side as he slowly raises the sword, the tip of the blade pointed directly somewhere far off in the forest. Your brows furrow as all you can do is watch. Worried and confused, you look back down to the child, who seems entirely unconcerned and still oddly giddy as he looks down toward where the sword is pointed. Is this all a game to the kid? Are you… Missing something? You take note of the way the blade is not pointed at either you or the boy, so what is…? You catch the subtle way Thompsons torso seems to tilt slightly in response to the boy's laughter, his shoulders uneven as he does so. It reminds you of the posture one would have when tilting their head.

Picturing that little gesture is all it takes for your angle of the situation to switch around. The Mare’s little huff, the way Thompson seems to be in no rush, the giggly demeanour of the child, the way Thompson seems stern but not in the way a deadly phantom would be, but rather…Like a mentor. Like a Parent.

Your eyes soften when you look down to the kid, who grins up at you one more time before hurriedly making his way down the direction Thompson was pointing toward. It’s hard to tell with the way the ghostly wisps of white obscure the child, but it nearly looks as if he’s waving to you.

With tiny, quick steps and a certain skip to his pace, the boy rushes behind one of the trees and…Disappears. You wait for a moment, waiting to see his little smiling face to pop back up…But it remains still. The boy is gone.

This…This isn’t a terrible phantom coming to punish some lost soul, this is…A shepherd. Someone guiding the poor young boy back on track, he’s… Here to pick him up. You have heard countless stories on Jorvik, talking about how this is the season for ghosts to stumble back into the land of the living. It makes sense that a young kid would be the one to waddle furthest from home and need to be taken back safely.

The little ghost was playing around, lost in the woods, away from where he needs to be…So rider and mare came to help him back home. No wonder their body language nearly seemed fond, rather than annoyed or angered. The raise of the sword was no threat of violence, but instead how a parent would point to the doorway and urge you to come back inside after missing curfew. The comparison makes something in your chest sting. Had you…Misunderstood them entirely? Has all your worry and your panic been misplaced?

Your gaze flickers back up to Thompson, watching his back while he lowers his arms. You can see the way his shoulders slump, as if to sigh. He turns his torso back toward you, his companion adjusting her stance as well and facing you more, the reins in one of Thompson's hands.

With practised ease, he sheathes the sword onto his back once more, the glimmering blade disappearing. The lack of a weapon in his hand does wonders to help your nerves. But watching this all unfold did quick work of a lot of your anxiety already.

You remain seated in your saddle somewhat stiffly, your eyes flickering back to the tree the boy had disappeared behind. The idea of him being gone makes your lips turn downward.

“Where is…Where did he go?”

Your question is hesitant and your tone somewhat hushed, unsure if you’ll even get an answer. It also sounds slightly strangled, as if a band is wrapped around your throat. With your sadness and worry for the ghostly child visible on your face you, look back to Thompson.

He watches you for a second, his posture nearly..Sad. Thompson raises one hand in a loose fist and gently lets it rest against his chest, right at the height of one's heart. The reply feels relieving and heartbreaking as you try your best to understand it. “Home..?” You all but mouth, your voice nearly too airy to be audible.

Thompson gives a gentle bow in confirmation. You repeat the single word again, whispering it to yourself as you glance back to the trees.

You cannot help but wonder what it means. Home for a young ghost like that. Is it lonely? Is it full of his favourite candy that he can never get stomach aches from? Is it welcoming and warm? Are there friends for him to play hide and seek with? The heaviness of your thoughts make your eyes sting for a moment.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. You don’t notice the way Thompson and his mare catch your sadness.

Once you open your eyes again, you remember what you had even come all the way out here in the first place. You have countless questions you wish to ask, things you want to know - But you know that this is neither the time nor place for it. With still shaking hands, you look down and look through your pocket. In the corner of your vision you can spot the way the fiery mare leans slightly closer, her snout curious, trying to see what you’re doing. Thompson also straightens out his posture somewhat, clearly also confused for a moment at your sudden, wordless search.

A small sound of satisfaction leaves your lips when you manage to pull the brooch out of your coat pocket. You run your gloved thumb over the cold, golden metal once, an unnamed feeling spreading through your chest. Nevertheless, you give a soft sigh and gently fold the fabric a bit nicer underneath the brooch.

Both of them recognize what you’re holding immediately, and both seem to be equally as surprised.

“I - I came to give it back to you.” You try your hardest to keep your voice even, but your nerves are still present no matter what you try. “Thank you for lending it to me.”

Thompson's hands raise ever so slightly, like he is surprised at your words. Before you can say anything else or try to read his body language any more, you let out a short, surprised sound as the mare steps closer. To your credit, even Thompson seems slightly startled by the sudden movement, so you don’t feel as bad.

You lean away from her slightly, your heart racing at the proximity to the intimidating mare. Her snout presses into your palm that’s holding the brooch, seemingly inspecting it. Your torso leans away from her, your eyes wide as you let her do what she wishes.

In the meantime, your horse seems entirely unbothered, simply a bit curious at best. The mare’s flaming mane warms up your skin and as you watch her nudge and sniff the brooch, you cannot help but smile a bit, the way she is acting nearly …Cute.

You don’t realise, but Thompson catches the way you begin to smile, and it seems to put him at ease a bit, watching you relax around the mare. Once she’s done, a short huff escapes her while she leans back, nearly as if she is pleased with whatever she was checking it for.

A nervous, little laugh leaves your lips at that. You lift your hand up higher and extend it out toward Thompson, for him to take the brooch from you.

You nearly hesitate in your movement, your hand slightly stuttering. Do you really want to give it back? Lose the last thing that ties you to the headless horseman? What if this is the last time you’ll see him and the mare?

Before you can worry about it any further, you feel the leather of his gloves brush your palm as he takes it from your grasp, his hand so gentle you can barely believe it’s the same hands that held his sword with such ease.

He runs his gloved thumb over the golden metal, just like you did. He seems slightly surprised, possibly at the way it shines and glimmers after you cleaned it. His hand closes around the brooch and he gives you another gentle bow, this one longer than the last, a sign of his gratitude. You cannot help but wonder, would there be a smile on his face?

While giving your horse a few pats on its neck, you watch as Thompson carefully pins the brooch back where it belongs, using it to put the ripped green fabric back together, leaving it now only connected by the pins needle. It’s an odd sight, forever a sign of your involvement in his existence. A reminder, you were here. It nearly feels surreal.

For a second, he adjusts the brooch somewhat, until he seems happy with the result and lets his hand fall back down to rest on his thigh. The sight of him gently fiddling with a brooch is nearly endearing.

His mare gently begins to step past you and your eyes never leave the two of them. Her heavy hooves sound muffled on the soil and leaves, and you mentally note that you were indeed right - She leaves no damage in her path. Once she walks past you and the distance between you and the mare becomes greater, you feel the lack of warmth nearly violently quick. A shiver runs under your skin, becoming audible when it gets past your lips.

You watch the way Thompson gently comes to a stop again, and you wonder what he’ll do next. He’s a few steps ahead of you, facing to head deeper into the hills. Then, he holds his hand out, beckoning you to follow. You see the way the mare’s gaze lands on you as he looks behind herself as well.

Immediately, your eyebrows move up and your lips fall slightly agape. You stare at them for a moment, feeling your heart hammering in your chest at the option of joining them on a ride. Above you, you spot two magpies landing in a nearby tree, leaves rustling where they land.

You swallow nervously, your eyes falling back down to the pair that is still waiting on your answer.

With Goldenleaf and the storm forecast temporarily forgotten, you nod, a small smile on your face as you gently urge your horse to fall into pace next to Thompson and his mare.

Immediately you feel warm again.

#Star Stable #sso #star stable online #ssoblr #galloper thompson #Old Kings Road #galloper thompson x reader #gunnar thrymson

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daggerspare-standingby · 1 year ago

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The Chase - Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Wow. The amount of love I’ve received on this fic is absolutely overwhelming and I’m so incredibly grateful. Thank you so so much!

It’s a little too soon for a complete love confession but there is a bit of fluff sprinkled throughout. The rest of it, is coming I promise!

No warnings for this one except Jake being a lovesick fool for someone who’s a little mean to him

Here is Part 2

—

There they were, the damn butterflies that were erupting in your stomach at his caring, but you were determined not to let it show. He doesn’t get to state some claim on you because he saved you from cracking your skull open. “I’ve gotten home alone plenty of times without you before, what’s so different about tonight?” He was quiet for a beat before he answered, his tone laced with sincerity “because I want to spend as much time with you as I can” you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips “Hangman, that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, and I’ve heard your pickup lines.” Continuing to walk towards your little rental on the beach, which wasn’t far from the bar making it the perfect location, “I’m starting to think you just want to know where I live, but it doesn’t mean you’re getting invited in.” You cast him a sideways glance, his hands in his pockets walking equally in stride with you, you could tell he was thinking about something very deeply, and also making a conscious effort to stay beside you.

The rest of the walk to your place was quiet, except for your footsteps, until you got to your small bungalow, you stopped at the walkway entrance and turned to face him again. You were surprised he walked the entire way without saying a word. “That must have been the longest you’ve ever gone without hearing your own voice huh?” He looked at you with a small smile forming on his lips “you can be really mean you know that.” You rolled your eyes “I’m not mean Hangman, I’m tired, and cranky and a little drunk”. You watched warily as he leaned on the fence post, his eyes not leaving yours, that smirk still on his face “can I buy you dinner some time?” You couldn’t have helped the surprise on your face if you wanted to “didn’t you just say I was mean to you? And you want to take me to dinner?” He nodded “it’s hot when you’re mean. And I want to know why you won’t call me by my name and only insist on calling me by my callsign, when it’s not the case for anyone else.” You shook your head and sighed “I’m working every night this weekend. I don’t have time to go to dinner.” He scoffed and stood up straight “you have to eat sometime, and there’s places open on weekdays too. Just give it a thought when you’re sober… I’ll see you tomorrow.” You chewed your cheek “goodnight…” as you turned to walk up the stairs to your place, you glanced back seeing him still standing at the end of your walkway. A small amused smile crept across your lips “are you gonna stand there all night?” He shook his head “nah, just til you get inside.” You nodded slowly, “goodnight…Jake.” You walked into the house before you could hear or see his reaction, of his face lighting up and the small fist pump he did as you closed the door. He was falling hard and fast for you, now all he had to get you to do was realize he wasn’t a complete asshole all the time.

Laying in bed that night was not different from any other night, except your hand still felt the weight of his where he was holding it. Sighing and rolling over onto the side you hugged your pillow, a sliver of moonlight shining through the curtains where the ocean breeze blew in from the beach, slowly you drifted off to sleep. Jake returned to the hard deck parking lot and got into his truck, thinking about the conversation he’d had with Javy while you were in the washroom.

“If you really have feelings for her, you need to stop leaving every night with those tag chasers dude.” Javy had handed in the pool cue to Bob and took up residence at a nearby high top table, his beer still in his hand. “I don’t go home with them, the most we get is a heavy makeout session outside the bar, I honestly can’t go any farther because I just see her face and hear her voice echoing in my head when I do. That’s why they all are the complete opposite of her.” Javy shook his head “listen, and listen good ‘cause I’m only going to tell you this one time. If you like her, show her that. Forget the other girls, prove to her that you’re not the guy with his name on the bathroom stall for a good time call.” Jake nodded, considering his friend's words. If anyone was to give relationship advice it was Javy. He’d been with his high school sweetheart for almost 20 years, and 5 of those have been married. Jake would love to have a relationship like that, would kill for it. But he knew that their job was dangerous, what if he never came back? It was a fear that plagued him, he knew especially after Coyote’s g-lock experience that it was a fear for his friend too. That’s why Jake never wanted to settle down, at least until he met you. He knew you were tough, you could probably handle it, him being gone for weeks at a time, though the dagger squad’s deployments were few and far between it was never entirely unavoidable. That’s why he strived to be the best of the best, but could he be the best of the best, for you?

—

Trying to figure out the tag list thing so If I miss you I’m so sorry!

@mayhemmanaged

@horseshoegirl

@dizzybee03

@kmc1989

@lynnevanss

@midnightmagpiemama

@djs8891

@blue-aconite

@rosiahills22

@hecate-steps-on-me

@cherrycola27

@roosterbruiser

@mak-32

@paigewinchester67

@potatothatcanwrite

@potato-girl99981

@theharddeck

@thedroneranger

@hangmandruigandmav

@themusingofagothicsoul

@wayward-river

@perfectprettypisces

@86laura11

@beyondthesefourwalls

Let me know your thoughts! Thank you again so so much

#the chase #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fic #Hangman x bartender!reader #jake x reader

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graysparrowao3 · 10 months ago

Note

I'm definitely excited for more Cal and Lia content! The way you write their dynamic is always a joy to read!

I was curious: Relating to the Cal and Lia WIP, did Rolan barely figure out what they were doing or did he know the entire time and was just playing dumb? Is there a little snippet you can share from that WIP?

A follow up question that doesn't exactly relate to the WIPS: How did you figure out writing for their dynamic?

No worries about answering those if you want to keep the fic a surprise! Love your writing!

Forest! Hello, this is so lovely! I'm so touched, and so glad you enjoy to read how I write them. I also love your writings on the siblings, it feeds my soul and my heart! I will do very best to answer your questions and hope it is what you would like from them! <3

(I wanted to do my best to answer and this unintentionally got very long and took a while, I do apologize!)

Relating to the Cal and Lia WIP, did Rolan barely figure out what they were doing or did he know the entire time and was just playing dumb?

Based on the idea provided by @faerunsbest I'm going to go with that he figures it out not immediately but very early on. I'm approaching it that he is playing dumb because he decides that's the best way to keep track of them without having to face the awkwardness of confronting them, and he does get a sense of satisfaction for getting one over on them. But he'll be doing things like staying awake until he knows they're back, doing research on their partners, etc., to make sure they're safe.

Is there a little snippet you can share from that WIP?

It's in the notes/planning stage and I don't have enough content yet to share a narrative snippet, but I'm not against sharing it at all! I shall try to remember to do so soon and tag you both! <3

How did you figure out writing for their dynamic?

For writing their dynamic, the first thing I did was listen to/watch their lines and scenes a lot. There's a collection of Rolan's lines here and also in this Youtube video, and there's a Youtube video of Cal and Lia's lines here. I watched all the scenes on Youtube/Twitter I could find of scenes I never got in my playthrough (i.e. the 'bad' ones).

Then, based on what we see in the game, and I try to explore the underlying psychology and extrapolate to new situations. (I think some of this probably veers into 'head canon' territory, so I hope this is okay to share here.)

An example that stands out in my mind is that if Lia dies and Rolan yells at Cal, Cal runs upstairs at Last Light and has ambient lines about how devastated he is, but if the player speaks to him he immediately hides his pain and says he's fine, it's Rolan he's worried about. So, Cal is able to mediate between them and take care of them emotionally at the cost of hiding his own pain, and also note that Rolan and Lia have more difficulty with emotional intelligence & expression and don't provide that same support for him. (This is why in the longest fic I've written so far (not this Cal and Lia fic, but just to make my point), I had Cal sort of crush on and try to spend time with Dammon and then Wyll, not because I wanted to particularly explore a relationship for him in that fic, but because it shows that Cal is looking for the gentleness and ability to be heard (that I thought those two characters in particular would provide) that he doesn't get with Rolan and Lia - noting here not just how they do interact, but how they do not interact, and what impact that would have on them as people.)

Another example is Lia in Act 1 states that she keeps dreaming of waking with her throat slit - so I wrote her as having this as part of a trauma response, and as being terrified, reasonably so, for her safety, even long after the threat has gone. As much as Lia 'wants to do the right thing', she's idealistic about what that is (note her wanting to join a Mercenary Group), and is also battling her own demons. I think I'm getting off topic, sorry!

These are things I keep in mind - what do they want (in general)? What are they missing? How are they coping with the traumas of their lives? And importantly, how does this impact their interactions?

So, what I usually keep in mind in terms of their dynamics when I'm writing them (note this is only my in-game or post-game thoughts and is not exhaustive character analyses, just main points that I think of to try and keep them "in character" as I see them and avoid falling into 'flanderization'):

Cal:

Is trusting, open-minded in his tone and approach (note how he's always had Rolan and Lia to trust in and take the lead so he doesn't have to).

I might use questions more in his dialogue with them.

It's not about him emotionally - it never is, and he never complains about that in the way Lia does - is carrying the emotional weight for the three of them. (If Cal dies, Lia says angrily about Rolan "it's always about him, his pain" - which in some ways was true, but it may be more accurate to say 'it was never about Cal, his pain'.)

He is light-hearted sometimes and does like to joke around, but he's not infantile - this is still a young man who has been through some serious trauma and conflict.

Admires Rolan more than anyone (says so if Rolan dies).

Wants to be heard but won't ask for it, wants to not have to worry about fighting in every sense of the word.

Lia:

Wants to do 'the right thing' but may be idealistic about what that is, wants to be safe (as mentioned before, is traumatized by it all in her own way).

I might drop words from the start of her speech, especially definite articles/indefinite articles/pronouns (i.e. the, a, I). A lot of the characters in BG3 do this because the dialogue writing is tight, but I associate it more with Lia (rightly or wrongly lol) and it emphasizes directness in her speech.

More direct and bold in approach, not always in the most thoughtful way (as she says, she loves them but isn't good at expressing it), but similar to Cal not being infantile, though she's direct it's not pure aggression - it's protection and fear.

I imagine that deep down she knows Cal admires Rolan more - so where does that leave her? But she's not selfish enough to say it.

Rolan:

(I'm sure folks have already talked about him extensively, so I'll try to focus only on my approach to their interactions!)

If in doubt, I try starting his speech with "I". Even I revise it, it's always a good jumping off point for centering himself in the interaction.

Oblivious to or purposely avoids emotional cues or anything that would cause vulnerability, in part for self-protection.

If he goes too far, as long as he's on good terms with the speaker (and he is with them) he does apologize and revise. He's focused on himself but not a complete asshole, when prompted he doesn't want to hurt them and won't take that risk.

People have different head canon for Rolan (and Cal and Lia) childhood, the theme is often belonging and the doubt / insecurity of belonging that always underpins his thinking. Any assholery towards them is self-protective, lack of emotional expression skills, or the only way he knows to achieve his/their goals.

Wants to succeed, to prove himself, to provide.

All three of them:

Limited emotional expression, just in different ways. Not going to say outright how they really feel unless it's an emotional or climactic moment that will absolutely force it.

Want to protect each other, just in different ways. (Broadly, Cal - emotionally, Lia - physically, Rolan - materially).

Love each other deeply - would all do anything, up to and including sacrifice themselves for each other.

Are determined and have their own agency, and doing the best they can.

Are exhausted and coping with trauma differently.

So essentially it's like a constant push and pull between the three of them, with all of them wanting to express love in the ways they know whilst trying to get their own needs met too, and at the same time none of them able to outright talk to each other in a vulnerable way or express their pain, dancing around what they can't say and falling back on what they're good at/their coping skills.

(Oh God, I hope this is what you were hoping for, I'm sorry it's so long I sort of just kept going 😅)

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #cal #lia #headcanon #rolan fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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pctcrparker · 9 months ago

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Peter stopped and looked at his wife, sensing the seriousness in her tone. He knew that this entire thing was going to be rough on her as well. He knew that none of this was easy nor will it be. As much as this affected him, it affected her too. And May for that matter. Finding out that Norman Osborn was the Green Goblin had now officially changed both their lives. But he knew that MJ was especially worried for him. So when she spoke with such a genuine voice, looking straight at him to make sure that he understood every single word that she was uttering to him, Peter knew why she was saying this. He knew that even though he was trying to ignore it himself, she was aware of the thoughts that were bursting at the back of his head. Yes, Peter had a whole family that he needed to take care of. And yes, that would always be his main priority. But he also couldn’t stand there and lie and say that he didn’t want to bring Norman down to justice. The man practically ruined his life while taking life away. Gwen didn’t deserve what that man did to her. And what he did to her was because of him. For the longest time, he had to force himself to move on without any actual closure. Peter had to accept that he’d never be able to bring the Green Goblin down for all that he did. But he’s return. Peter had no idea why the Green Goblin had returned, but he had. And now he knew exactly who was behind that mask. He knew who had ultimately been responsible for Gwen’s death. A death that haunted more than the rest. So yes, despite his best efforts, the thought of seeking revenge was at the back of his head. But he was doing his very best to push that aside. To remind himself that his family came first. Not this sense of vengeance that he’d been harboring for years. Chewing on the inside of his lower lip, he avoided Mary Jane’s gaze for a moment until they locked eyes. “I know. Okay, I know. I promise, you and May are my first and only thoughts. I will take down Norman, the right way,” he assured her, grabbing her hand and kissing the inside of her palm. “I’ll be there to polish all ten of your Oscars,” he added with a little grin before he returned the kiss. Stepping back a little and grabbing his phone as if expecting a message or call from the Green Goblin himself, he glanced back at MJ. He knew why his wife wanted to tag along to Harry’s. Harry was important to her too. But there was an uneasy feeling at the thought of her joining. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here with May? Just in—I don’t know. Just in case. Just to be safe. I mean, Harry’s place would seem like a big spot for Norman to appear and I don’t…” He sighed. “I wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Mary Jane could practically read every single thought that was running through Peter’s head. She had known him long enough to know what his train of thought was or what he planned on doing. She was sure she knew what Peter was going to do even before he himself knew what he was going to do. Looking at May as she handed Peter her bunny knowing that their daughter was trying to comfort Peter, Mary Jane felt so guilty knowing that their daughter was experiencing and noticing all of this. May was at that age where she was understanding more than she let on and she was starting to understand everything. May was so young and her life was already in danger and it was a gut wrenching thing to see. Leaning into Peter’s thumb as he stronked her cheek, Mary Jane smiled before closing her eyes and sighing. “I love you, Pete. I love you and May more than anything in the world,” she whispered. “And I understand everything you’re going through. I’ve been there at your worst, Pete. I just…” Mary Jane trailed off, trying to decide the best way to approach the whole thing. It wasn’t just because Norman was after her and May, it was also because of the fact that Gwen’s death had been unresolved for years. When Gwen had died, Peter was never given the closure that he needed to move on and because Gwen never got the justice that she deserved. There was a lot Peter was going through and it was why MJ knew that she needed to be the levelheaded one and not to put emotion into it. “I need you to understand, I cannot do this alone. I cannot raise May alone. Whatever happens between you and Norman when this all comes to blows, in the back of your mind, I need you to be thinking about May and I. I need you to keep in mind that the two of us need you. We need you here with us. May needs you to raise her, to see her go through all her firsts. To each her how to manage her powers should she ever get them. To watch her graduate from ESU and follow in her father’s footsteps. I need you to be there to watch me win my first Oscar, my second Oscar, my third Oscar and so on,” she listed, moving so that she could cup Peter’s face between her hands so he could look at her. “We need you and whatever you choose to do with us in mind, I support it.” Leaning into Peter, Mary Jane pecked him on the lips and looked down when May began to babble and pat Bunny on the head. Kissing the top of May’s head, Mary Jane placed her so that May was on her lap. “So tomorrow, we can leave May here with Sue and we can go and see Harry. Make sure he’s okay and everything.”

#spiderman #peterxmj #073

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zero-cycle · 3 years ago

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I added 368 tags in 2021

#mcc - 87 posts

#dsmp - 47 posts

#hermitcraft - 41 posts

#last life spoilers - 37 posts

#mcsr - 34 posts

#discord shenanigans - 31 posts

#last life - 29 posts

#eret - 23 posts

#don't mind me just watching a tournament - 20 posts

#nare writes - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#dsmp is not the end-all of mcyt and some of you would greatly benefit to just take a week off of dsmp streams and watch some other creators

My Top Posts in 2021

Yeah Minecraft Monday sucked on so many levels that cannot even be described anymore but it also gave us George and Dream literally jumping into Bad and Skeppy's teamspeak to help them win and those moments still live rent free in my mind.

89 notes • Posted 2021-10-10 16:09:15 GMT

Been thinking about MCC recently and reading too much fanfiction about Illumina becoming the universe and this was the result I guess.

There is a record on the practice server that has never been broken.

It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t it? It’s a practice server. The entire point is to practice, to beat old records over and over and over again until you’ve done everything you can and learned everything there is to learn. If you came on for the first time, those might be the questions you ask, the questions you pester everyone else with but never get an answer to. Until you learn better, until you learn to accept that this record will stay until the end of times, until the universe crashes and burns and every last trace of that player will be gone.

65:02:25, the numbers read in floating yellow letters.

It’s a beatable time, you might think. Maybe you go and ask around the others there - training, competing, always trying to improve - why they haven’t yet.

“He was a crackhead,” Dream says and the words sound like they’re supposed to be mean but they seem fond and a little bit sad. “If he wanted to waste an hour of his life for that, he can do that but I won’t.”

“It doesn’t give enough coins,” Sapnap shrugs. “Not worth it.”

“Already beat it,” Mefs answers with a cheeky grin. “But trying to beat it legitimately...I’m not insane enough for that.” “I already have the Ace Race record, that’s enough for me,” Seapeekay laughs.

“It doesn’t matter in the real event anyway,” Quig explains. “The walls come from all sides, this isn’t good training for that.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” 5up sighs.

Fruitberries just blankly stares at you and when you blink, he’s already disappeared.

“He always got them beaten so quickly it was unfair,” Tapl says, quiet and sad. “He should get to keep that one at least.”

[rest is deleted to not murder your dashboard]

104 notes • Posted 2021-10-30 23:55:19 GMT

People joke that there’s three things you can always recognize speedrunners on: They wear a mask that covers at least half their face, they’re either ridiculously lucky or unlucky and they carry a necklace with a dragon tooth.

The rumours aren’t wrong. Many of the runners prefer masks, for one reason or the other. Most people have never seen Illumina’s face. Red cloth covers the lower half of Benex’ face at all times. Dylan, when he decides to look more human, does the same with a green scarf. Feinberg’s helmet has never been taken off in public.

And luck does like to toy with them, her favourites. Sometimes she will give out her generosity and the runners celebrate those rare, few times. Other times….well. There’s a reason the world record hasn’t been broken in months.

As for the necklace: It’s tradition to take the teeth of the first dragon you kill.

[rest is deleted to not murder your dashboard]

191 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 22:51:46 GMT

This is horribly rough because I speedran this in less than half an hour but I got inspired and this wanted to be written now. Snippet of @dreamsmp-au-ideas Archetype AU. Hope you'll forgive me for any inaccuracies or typos, it's the middle of the night for me.

Something is wrong.

Foolish knows something is wrong because his companion doesn’t normally disappear without a word. Sure, they’ve taken off on their own before but they’ve always told them when to expect them back before. But this time they’ve just said “Be back soon” and left without any more information.

So Foolish searched for them. He wouldn’t, normally. Eret deserves their freedom and his respect of their decisions. But Foolish hasn’t been a God and a Protector for so long without listening to his instincts.

And even if Eret isn’t in trouble, they’ll appreciate the help, right?

[rest deleted to not murder your dashboards]

194 notes • Posted 2021-04-02 23:03:08 GMT

Etho's run this season of Last Life is frankly insane. Not only has he brought back a red former ally twice, but he's also been the boogeyman twice, successfully killed somebody both times and is still on basically nobody's shit list and has one of the last still-standing bases. This man. He signs Scar's contract one episode and threatens to break it the next one and Scar doesn't even try to argue but instead retreats. Hell, he put Mumbo on red and got away scot-free despite multiple of Mumbo's former allies being there.

And he hasn't died a single time this season.

440 notes • Posted 2021-10-27 21:56:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #that's actually hysterical #mcc is probably my top tag because it's the only one i consistently remember to tag #also i stand by my longest tag and that's why it's staying in here

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tripthelightfandomtastic · 3 years ago

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Black Out - D.R.W

Author’s Note: I'm finally here to feed my Danny girls. You all have been waiting so patiently for me to write my first ever Danny smut story, he's just so intimidating to write and I didn't want to get this wrong. This is also the longest story I've written thus far so I hope I've delivered for you.

Synopsis: Danny Wagner has always been a pain in the ass, but what happens when the two of you find yourselves together after a night out?

Word Count: 10k (now that's more like it)

Pairing: Douchebag!Danny x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, alcohol, oral, spanking, choking, light degradation, dom!sub. (Wrap it before you tap your worst enemy)

Thank you all for your patience, I've been so busy lately its been hard to find the time to write but I'm proud of what I've put out here for y'all. I'll be getting back to requests soon in the order in which I got them, I just wanted to do something on my own to get my creative juices flowing again. Anyway, please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list and what y'all think! Thank you, love you! ❤️

Black Out- D.R.W

You should have left hours ago, it was snowing like crazy out and you knew you probably shouldn’t be this fucked up either but, damn, whiskey runs way too smooth and work has been getting on your nerves. The party ended about twenty minutes ago, everyone now scrambling to figure out a safe way home. Classic Michigan. No ubers would risk this trip out, the snow was piling up fast and the snowplows wouldn’t make it this late. Time is of the essence and you really don’t want to stay at whoever's house this was, and if that means grabbing a ride with Danny then so be it. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t halfway beg Josh to take you home in his stupid jeep but he was already getting a ride himself because he had had too much to drink tonight. He only offered you a warm giggle and a tight hug, promising you he would text you as soon as he got home safe. Josh was a sweet mess when he was drunk, you wished you were able to be in whoever’s car was taking him home. Josh did do you one last favor before leaving, and that was flagging Danny down and asking him to take you home, remembering you two didn’t live far from each other. The visible look of annoyance on his face made you smile, a tantalizing opportunity to torture Danny, one of your many favorite past times.

“Why do I need to take her home?” Your head spins to watch Danny complain to Sam who is wrangling a pack of wild drunks of his own, as Josh practically waltzes out the front door with a couple of other drunk dudes and their very nervous designated driver. Sam is only half listening to his friend, he looks like he’s trying to corral three drunk girls together, trying desperately to keep them from running off back to the dying embers of the house party. “Her house is way closer to yours than everyone else I’m driving.” “Who did she come here with?” “One of the girls I’m taking in my already full car. Amber, no, no we are not taking the leftover jello shots in my car! Ugh, that doesn’t mean you should eat them now?!” Sam runs to chase after your friend Amber, pulling the other two drunk girls by the wrist like a single mother dealing with unruly children in a grocery store, you giggle to yourself as you pull on your coat and search for your purse, spinning in a circle only to find it’s already strapped to you.

“I’m sick of playing designated driver.” Danny whines as Jake leads an arguing drunk couple to the doorway, “It's getting bad out there dude, I’m sure it won’t take long, we gotta go while we can.” Jake opens the door, ushering the yelling couple out the door ahead of him, you saunter over to Danny, standing tall with his arms crossed. “Fine, but I’m not happy about having to drive her.” “Oh shut up, I’m a delight to be around.” You chime in, shoulder checking him on your way out the door. “Yeah a real fucking treasure.” Danny scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pulls his coat tighter to him before walking out to follow you.

Daniel Wagner is probably not your biggest fan, and you were not exactly his either. You can’t say when was the moment that solidified your status as enemies but for as long as you’ve known the Kiszka’s, you’ve known Danny. You both love the boys too much to give up hanging out as a group, even if that meant knowing the other would be wherever they were. You two get along civilly for the most part but pushing Danny’s buttons and vice versa, was a long standing game you two have been playing for years. You stumble through the snow along the grassy yard that was covered in the abandoned cars that belong to all of the party's drunk patrons who were finding other means of safe transportation. You fall into the thick powdery snow, landing in the cushion of the freshly fallen flurry with a drunken chuckle. “Come on.” Danny says flatly as he spins his keys on his fingers with an air of irritation. You roll over to your back and start making a snow angel, “It's freezing! Let’s go!” He shouts, his breath visible and floating into the night sky. “But if I get up I’ll ruin my snow angel!” You whine, Danny throws his head back with a groan, walking over to you as you sit up, he squats down and picks you up and holds you to his chest, his movement swift, unphasing his stride as he carries you away effortlessly, you never knew Danny was so strong? He faces the shape you had made of you in the snow, “Looks more like a snow demon to me.'' Danny quips, turning back to his intended path towards his car. “I thought it looked very nice.” You say simply, trying to ignore how muscular Danny’s arms feel around you, carrying you like a groom would carry his bride through the terrain of the snowy night. Finally you both reach the car, he reluctantly sets you back down on your feet just to fish out his keys and open your door, “Oh, Daniel, such a gentleman.” You tease as you slip inside the passenger seat, earning only a scoff and eye roll from your valet for the evening.

Danny pops inside and turns the key, pressing every button that will warm up the car from this wintery hellscape. You wrap your arms across your chest as you try to preserve any heat you may have left in your body from escaping through your sweater and coat. Danny’s bluetooth is paired to the radio, an old Neil Diamond song playing through the speakers. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one.” You observe more to yourself than Danny, he gives you a quick glance, just peeling his eyes from the ice filled streets to give you a surprised “Hm.” You listen along, liking how oddly gospel-sounding it is, “It’s uh Holly Holy, I think it’s about the way the woman he loves makes him feel like she is akin to a spiritual awakening. How she makes him feel full with her love, like he could do anything.” Danny explains softly, trying his best not to sound corny. You just smile sweetly at the idea, the song is sweet and you can hear the meaning Danny mentioned plain as day in its melody, “I mean, I don’t know, it could be about LSD or something, that’s just what I think it sounds like to me, I don’t know.” Danny stammers out, “No I like it, I get that too. I think it's sweet.” You reassure, nodding along lazily to the beat, letting the song flow through you. Danny only lets a grin tug at the corner of his mouth as you continue your journey home.

It was no exaggeration, the snow was falling fast and in droves, the white from the flurry made it hard to see when driving so you were practically praying to the girl Neil Diamond was singing about if she could get you through this storm. Only a few more minutes of fearful driving until you were finally pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot. “Finally.” You sigh to yourself, feeling the edge of sobriety slowly creeping in, as you and your friends would describe it, you were about a seven, maybe a six and a half on a scale of one to ten, ten being the drunkest you could possibly think of being. Danny turns off the car and you snap your head to look at him, “You don’t have to walk me up ya know?” You offer, knowing how he didn’t want to be here in the first place, very aware that he probably doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to. “No way, its fucking freezing out and I’ve seen enough Dateline episodes to know not to abandon a drunk friend alone in the middle of the night.” He explains, rebuttoning his coat. “Friend, huh?” You press, raising an eyebrow at his choice of phrasing. “If I said 'mortal enemy’ I don’t think I’d end up on the show.” He smirks, you just roll your eyes and chuckle as you open the door, the cold wind slamming into you, your clothes might as well be made of tissue paper the way it whips through you.

You pull your coat closer to yourself, starting your well traveled path up to your apartment, Danny close to your side, his hair flying around his face. You nearly slip and fall on an iced over puddle on the sidewalk, sending you backwards into Danny, his firm chest and arms steadying you. “You that drunk?” Danny laughs out, “No, asshole, it's slippery!” You shout, your voice a little too dramatic from the embarrassment of Danny seeing you nearly eat shit on the concrete. “Come on, diva.” His voice is playful as he abruptly picks you up, tossing you easily over his shoulder, “Hey!” “I don’t think I trust you to make it up these stairs alive on your own, princess.” Danny mocks, his arms locked firmly around your waist and hips, keeping you still as his long flowing curls tickle your cheeks. “You’re a full service man aren’t you Dan? You drive drunks home, walk girls to their door, and carry them over your giant shoulders? You really are a gentleman!” You tease, calling out loudly. His large hand meets your ass with a spank, you yelp out in shock, “Stop shouting, you’ll wake the whole complex.” He quips back. You can’t help but blush, the position you’re in alone has your tipsy mind swimming, that sting of his slap sinfully makes you weak. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, like come on, this is Danny? Douchebag Dan? Maybe you were a bit higher on your drunk scale than you thought.

You finally make it up to your apartment door as Danny plops you down to your feet, you fumble the keys in the lock, finally swinging open to your warm and inviting abode. “Mind if I use your restroom before I head out?” Danny asks as you toss your keys on your entry table, “Sure.” You say, your hands working off your coat, toeing your boots off. You make your way into the kitchen and grab yourself a glass of water, chugging down the cold beverage like your life depended on it, which it did if you didn’t want to wake up tomorrow with a headache from all the sugary mixers you had tonight. Danny emerges from the bathroom making his way back towards you, he comes over and grabs the glass out of your hand, taking it and drinking the ice water. “Oh please, help yourself.” You sarcastically spout, crossing your arms with a furrowed brow as you glare up at him. He finishes off the glass and sets it on the counter beside him, “Well, I guess I should be off.” “You’re insufferable.” “I got you home didn’t I?” He shrugs smugly, you only let out a scoff, “Right. Yeah, thank you. I uh, I really appreciate it.” You say softly, looking up to his eyes, dark and curious. “Was that a genuine ‘thank you’?” Danny says with his brows lifted in utter surprise, “Yes, dickhead, it was.” You roll your eyes, leaning against your fridge. Danny makes his way closer to you, “Oh, don’t ruin it, I’m gonna revel in this moment.” He teases, his arm extends to the fridge door, propping himself against it, trapping you from leaving as he leans in, his head dipping next to your ear, “Say it again.” He whispers in your ear, his voice a hair deeper and raspier as he speaks, a wave of goosebumps travel down your neck, you only gaze up at him into his eyes, ‘fuck he’s tall’ you think to yourself, your lips parting as you look over his face. “Thank you.” Your own voice barely above a whisper as he smiles that oh so familiar shit-eating grin you’re so used to seeing. “That wasn’t so hard now was it, princess?” Danny says, his finger lifting your chin up to keep your eyes trained on him. The air feels thick, a tension building around you, the feeling of his hand on your chin makes your stomach flip with sweet excitement.

Your eyes travel down to look at his lips, so soft looking, they’ve never seemed so soft before. Suddenly, everything goes black. The world goes silent. The power is out in the building. The slow ever present hum of electricity in the background whirs away until it's totally quiet. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark, looking at Danny’s silhouette less than a foot away from you, he must have moved away to take in the situation. “Shit.” You whisper, “Looks like I’m not going anywhere for a while.” Danny says, standing up and pulling his phone from his back pocket, turning on his flashlight, “Why?” “Because if the power is out here, it's probably out at my place too. Might as well not be bored alone.” He theorizes, “Fair enough. I have a couple of candles around here somewhere.” You say heading back into the kitchen, opening up your pantry to find an unopened box of tea candles, “Got some of these after my power went out in a storm a year ago, it sucked having zero light for hours.” You explain, pulling out a box of matches. "How very doomsday prepper of you." Danny jokes as you split the candles up, walking around the apartment and lighting candles wherever you would need the most light, the living room, the bathroom and your bedroom. The atmosphere was alight with a warm glow, inviting and safe away from the snow storm just outside the window.

The two of you end up sat on the floor of your living room, facing each other awkwardly in the warmth of the candle light. “It feels like we’re about to do some sacrifice or something with all these candles.” Danny jokes, you chuckle as you take in the view around you, “It kind of does. Maybe I’ll see what I can get in return for your soul.”

“Like what?”

“Whatever it would be worth I guess, which would probably earn me a single McChicken from the dollar menu.”

“Ouch, you think it’d be that bad?”

“I like their McChickens.” You shrug as Danny shakes his head with a smile. You bring your knees up to your chin, your arms holding you close to yourself. “I’m bored.” You complain, your feet rocking back and forth from your place on the carpet. “You’re not tired?” Danny asks with genuine surprise, “No, not really.” You answer, “What do you wanna do?” He asks, as he leans back to rest against the couch from his place on the floor. The room is silent as you ponder the question, the warm candle light flickers, the shadows long and foreign looking on their places against the walls. You let out a giggle and shake your head at the thought. “What?” “Nothing. It’s stupid.” You shake your head again with a smile, “I’m sure it is, what is it?” Danny pries. You just roll your eyes, “Wanna play, would you rather?” You smile, tilting your head to the side, Danny laughs, “That is stupid. Fuck it, why not.” He smiles, he shifts from his cross-legged position to stretching out a leg, his arm resting on one knee he’s hiked up. He tilts his head up at you confidently, waiting for you to go first. “Okay, um, would you rather, only ever eat breakfast for dinner forever or eat dinner for breakfast forever?” You ask, “That is the most lame would you rather question ever.” “Just answer it, asshole.” You jab, Danny just lets his head fall back as he stares up at the ceiling and thinks for a moment, “I guess breakfast for dinner?” “Why?” “I gotta have a reason?” “Yeah, haven’t you ever played this before?” “Okay fine, I don’t know, you can eat all kinds of things for breakfast, sweet and savory stuff? I mean dinner would just be too harty, like you just woke up and now you gotta eat spaghetti?” Danny explains, his face twisted into a funny expression as he tries to justify his choice. You shrug your shoulders, “Fair enough. Okay, your turn.”

Danny searches the ceiling, looking for a question to ask you, “Would you rather only be able to talk during the daytime or speak only when you are spoken to?” He says with a smirk, “Ooh that is a hard one.” You ponder aloud, “For you, I’m sure it is.” He says with a scoff, “Fuck off.” You spit, he has always been much more quiet than you, you and Josh probably get along so well because you two are always so talkative and you know it drives Danny up the wall. “I guess only during the day? I’d have to do way more during the daytime hours then but I think I’d go crazy if I had to wait until someone spoke to me first.” You explain, Danny only gives a small exhale of a laugh, “Yeah I bet you’d explode, I’d be in heaven though, enjoying the silence for once.” He smiles as he tucks his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and relaxing into his imagination. You huff in annoyance, you crawl over to him, grabbing a pillow from behind him. You get a firm grip on the throw pillow and smack him across the face with it, his eyes slam open at the impact, snapping him out of his fantasy world. “Too bad! You’re suck in this frozen hell with me.” You say sitting up on your knees, only lightly towering over him in his position against the couch. “And you said my question sucked.” You mumble to yourself, retreating back to your spot, sitting on your newly acquired weapon of a decorative pillow. “Okay then you come up with a better one then! No more college ice breaker questions.” You sit a moment, thinking of something salacious and interesting, Danny sits staring at you cooly, his chest puffed out as he waits to see what on earth you could come up with.

“Alright, would you rather date someone who refuses to kiss you or someone who refuses to blow you? I bet these are real scenarios you’ve faced multiple times Danny boy.” You cross your arms, smiling proudly at your jab, letting him get a taste of his own medicine. He simply laughs at you, “I’ve actually never had a problem with either, women practically beg to suck my dick.” Danny smirks tilting his head like the cocky son of a bitch he is. “I highly doubt that.” “Why do I have to choose between these two? These fake people sound awful.” “Because it's a game Daniel.” You remind him, he moves to sit with his legs crossed, moving a bit closer to you and you silently pray the power comes back and Danny can get stuck in an avalanche on his way home. Danny groans as he twists his face up as he thinks of his answer, “I guess someone who won’t blow me wouldn’t be as awful as never being kissed? Like you at least need that in a relationship, right? We could always do other stuff?” He rationalizes, your eyebrows lift at his answer, a small, “Huh.” Passes your lips at his statement. The idea of Danny being so sentimental rather than obscene somewhat surprises you. “What?” He asks, not letting your comment slip without an explanation. “Just didn’t think about it like that.” You shrug, hoping he’ll drop it, but in very Danny fashion, he doesn’t. “I mean I can get off other ways, I just don’t think I’d be very happy in a relationship like that if they wouldn’t show me any affection like that.” He says, maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s just your constant need to be a contrarian to anything Danny says but you retort back, “I think I’d die if my boyfriend wouldn’t eat me out.” “Would you really choose that over never being kissed?” He asks curiously, leaning forward with interest. “Well after what you said, probably not but, fuck, some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had was from oral.” You smirk lazily, your mind drifting to the thought of a man buried between your legs. “Really?” Danny asks lowly, his voice incredibly soft as he asks you to say more.

“I don’t think there is a better feeling than sitting on a man’s face.” You say seductively and smile confidently as you stare him down as confidently as he’s staring at you. Your answer hangs in the air for a moment, the two of you taking in the other in the dim light of the candles surrounding the room. You start to feel your heart beating faster as you think of how his dark eyes look at you, looking at you like a lion staring down his next meal. He tilts his head up at you before speaking, looking almost as though he’s about to call your bluff.

“Would you rather have sex with your most recent ex or your worst enemy?” He asks smoothly. You let out a low chuckle, “Oh, Marcus? Yeah fuck no, the way we ended things really made me see his true colors.” You wince at the idea of even texting your ex, let alone to actually have sex with him again. Not that Marcus was bad in bed, he was fucking amazing, but knowing what you know now about how catty he was when things between you ended, he really turned into a childish prick. “Yeah he was kind of an asshole.” Danny agrees, reminiscing about the time he wouldn’t let you come and get your stuff from his apartment for a week just for a powertrip. The boys had your back throughout that whole break up, Marcus was incredibly controlling, you never really realized until after you broke up with him. You had to have the Kiszka boys and Danny come and help you move out, Josh even let you stay at his apartment until you found your own place.

“You’re not funny.” You say simply standing, Danny follows you and stands, his hand grabbing your wrist, “Oh come on princess it’s just a game. Don’t get all hurt-” “No, I see what you’re doing-” “And what’s that?” “You’re just trying to make fun of me!” You shout as you pull from Danny’s hold. “Why would I make fun of you?” “Because I want to fuck you!” Your voice rings out loudly, too loudly. The sound of your exclamation bouncing off the walls of your silent apartment. Your eyes wide as you realize your mistake, the silence feeling like a vice around your throat. “Oh.” Danny says softly, not knowing what to say. You can’t even look at him, you wish you could dissolve, evaporate into mist and float away. You stare at your socks, not sure what else to do, let alone say. Danny brings a hand up to your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. You tense up at his forwardness, you fear he can see right through you and into your darkest thoughts, as if they were painted on your irises if he could only get close enough. “You would have been my answer too.” He speaks softly, his voice just above a whisper, his dark brown eyes searching yours.

“So who does that leave? You?” Danny simply shrugs, a small awaiting expression plays on his face as he listens for your answer. “I guess we are somewhat enemies.” He responds. “You called me your ‘mortal enemy’ in the car earlier.” “Then yeah, I guess me.” He smirks, your tough persona drops for a moment, your lips parting as you ponder the idea. You think about the way he had you backed up against your fridge, the way the air felt still and hot when he had you cornered, what you may have done if the power hadn’t gone out. You sit up straighter, almost nervous realizing you have to answer him. “You’re asking would I rather fuck my piece of shit ex or you?” You ask, feeling almost stupid but trying not to misunderstand. “I can’t be the worst choice in the world, can I?” He grins, you can feel a ball of nervousness play in your stomach, of course the choice here is easy but what would his reaction be? Would he hold this over you? Tell Sam all about it and tease you about it until the end of time? What would his choice be? “This game is stupid.” You shut down, choosing not to be humiliated. “How? It’s a fair question.” “It's a stupid question.” You push back, you realize Danny is only about a few feet away and you want him closer to- no he’s going to make you look like an idiot! It’s a trap, a fucking prank.

“I- you don’t, like- it’s not-this isn’t? It’s a part of the game? Like, we aren’t-” “Remember when I said you talk too much?” Danny interrupts, serious as can be, you only nod at his question. “Show me what you want.” He dares, his thumb running softly along your bottom lip. You watch his eyes follow the movement of his digit coasting slowly over your faded lipstick. You simply open your mouth, allowing him to slip his thumb inside your mouth, he places it on your tongue softly. You close your mouth around it, not venturing from his sight. You watch his reaction as his lips part, inhaling deeply at the feeling of the warm wetness of your mouth. You let your tongue run under his thumb, teasing him before opening your mouth again, his hand leaving your lips and taking you by the jaw. You two stare at each other in the golden glow of the candlelight against the pitch blackness of the snowy sky outside. He looks different to you now that you both understand the other's intentions, finally on the same side about something for once. His rich dark curls are cascaded around his face, the shadows from the light accentuating his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, the plumpness of his pink lips, the ones you were able to admire only for a moment before the two of you were plunged into darkness. Danny has always been attractive but at this moment, he looks absolutely divine. You take in his appearance one last time before swiftly, pulling him down to you by his sweater, letting your lips crash together in a kiss.

You can’t help the way your heart is beating so loudly in your ears, this is a man that made you roll your eyes and walk away in high school, the guy that can push your buttons until you are red in the face, but now, with his lips melting against yours, you begin to realize, was this all that built up tension? His large hands hold your face firmly to feel you close, yet soft enough to feel the gentle skin of your cheeks under his palms. He opens his mouth slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue along his bottom lip just before sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moan breathlessly into his mouth as his hands travel down your waist, landing at your hips and pulling you tightly to his front. You smile against his lips, “I thought this was would you rather, not truth or dare?” You giggle, the lingering alcohol making you a little more goofy than usual, Danny smirks and holds you firmly by the jaw, “Sure, let’s play, truth or dare?” His hand propping you up, forcing you to look into those dark brown eyes, made only more dramatic in this light. You smile defiantly at him, “Dare.” You simply say, not knowing just how the sound of that simple word rolling out of your throat was you hammering down the final nail in your coffin. Danny grins, he takes his time as he leans in to whisper into your ear, “I dare you to speak only when spoken to, to keep as quiet as you can.” His voice commands, the chills from his closeness, the warmth of his breath cascading down over your neck sends a delicious chill down your spine and an excitement that makes you grow warmer between your legs. He pulls away to gauge your answer, “That sound like something you want, princess?” His voice sounding so sweet even after asking for something so overtly kinky and sexual, the use of your once condescending nickname like this absolutely floods your underwear. He eyes you tenderly, searching for any doubt or discomfort, but he finds none. “Yes please.” You whisper, your voice faltering, betraying you with just how badly you want him.

“Oh and such good manners? Maybe you’re more obedient than you seem.” Danny says softly, his hands sliding up the hem of your sweater and resting on the skin of your waist beneath, warm hands radiating into your body. His voice is so gentle, speaking to you as though he was whispering to you in a room of perfect strangers, trying not to be heard by anyone other than just you. The way his eyes feel on your skin makes you want him to slam you against the wall and let him fuck you as hard and in anyway he deemed fit. But the way he’s touching you, fuck, you never want that to end.

Your hands travel up his sweater clad chest, begging to feel what he's hiding underneath all the fabric. His large hands find your wrists, "Would you like to take this into your bedroom, princess?" He asks, his voice sweet, the tone makes your heart swell. You nod your head in a simple answer, he takes you by the hand and walks you to your room. It's much darker in here, the smaller space feels so much more intimate and cozy, the light from the candles make the room feel almost foreign to you, shaded in a way you've never seen it before. You stand before the edge of the bottom of your bed, looking to Danny for further instruction, "Strip." He commands simply, you only grin as you take your sweater off and over your head, your pants and socks following suit, leaving you only in your bra and panties. Danny's eyes rake over you, "I showed you mine, now show me yours." You break the tension with sarcasm, trying desperately to undo any of the nervousness in your gut. Danny only comes closer to you now, "What did I say about talking?" His dark eyes stare unto yours, dammit, how could you forget? "I forgot-" "You've never been the best listener in the world have you?" He interrupts, passing you to sit on the edge of the bed behind you.

You look at him with a flare of annoyance but push back the urge to say something snarky, knowing whatever you just did may have its consequences, and consequences you'll have. "Come here." Danny beckons authoritatively, the words alone shouldn't have you reeling but here you are. You walk up to him, standing between his knees as he sits before you, even from your advantage of height from this position you still feel completely at his will. He takes your hand, pulling you over to him until he maneuvers you around and pulls you over his knees, your backside facing him, you gasp at the smoothness of his movements. His large hand runs gently over your plush ass cheek, your lace underwear not leaving much for the imagination but he runs his finger to your hip, snapping the thin material against your skin, the feeling making you slightly jolt. "Maybe you did forget," He smiles to himself as he brings his hand down swiftly, a smack cracking against your ass. You gasp and moan out, the surprise admission of your arousal makes you blush. You've never had a feeling like this before, such a beautiful mixture of pleasure in the pain. "But I'll help you remember." He soothes the stinging flesh with his hand. "I want you to count. Can you do that for me?" He asks, "Yes." You say, voice just above a whisper, shaking under his touch.

"Tell me if it gets to be too much. Red is stop, yellow is slow, green is go. Okay?" Danny guides his hand down the back of your thigh and up your ass, the feeling of his hand across your skin makes you even more excited, "Yes, sir." You agree, "There's those sweet manners again." He says, a smile obviously present in his tone as he brings his hand down against your ass, a hiss passes through your teeth. "Too bad they're a little too late." He runs his hand over you again, "One." You say through your teeth, the sting energizing you, heat pulsing to your core. His hand comes down again, "T-Two." And again, "Three-e." And again. "F-." You yelp, the stinging in your muscle is almost too much to bear, you can't speak, the wetness is pooling in your panties. "Come on princess, tell me what color." His voice is soft and caring, his hands softly working over your stinging hot cheeks. You think it over for a second, just needing a moment in between. "Yellow." You whisper, taking in a breath. Danny's hands run sweetly over your ass and up to the swell of your lower back, leaning over to whisper in your ear, "You're doing so good. Such a sweet girl." His voice is tender, chills dancing up and down your back.

"I can take it." You say, finding some resolve in your voice to keep it all together. "What color?" He asks patiently, "Green." You answer without hesitation. "Good girl." He smiles with a quick and final spank. "Five." You groan, your core is aching to be touched, Danny leans down, kissing softly on his red handprint he's most certainly left on your ass, the feeling of his lips on your burning skin feels deliciously cool. You let out a sigh from the feeling of his lips pressed to your burning skin. “You learned your lesson, sweet girl?” Danny whispers softly behind you, his hand running over the back of your thigh, dulled nails running gently up the back of your sensitive expanse of skin, teasing you as well as rewarding you. “Yes, sir.” You whisper back. “Good. Now we can really get to it.” His words make your heart jump into your throat, what on earth could he possibly do to top that? Just as easily as he laid you over his knees, he picks you up and tosses you on the bed, the look of cockiness and confidence on his face and the little bounce onto your own mattress makes your head swim, you cannot believe you are about to fuck Danny Wagner, screw worrying about ruining your friendship, you don’t even really have one, he just annoys you, pisses you off, and picks on you. Right? Then why does the idea of fucking him not bother you? You hate Danny. Right? Fuck. Maybe you don’t.

He pulls the sweater off and over his head, letting it fall to the ground, he climbs onto your bed, crawling over to be on top of you, the two of you taking a moment to just look at eachother like this. His arms are fucking crazy, you think to yourself unpoetically, the way his muscles just wind around his biceps, bulging and flexing as he shifts above you, his hair long as it cascades above you. His nose casts such a beautiful shadow, his eyes are softened, he looks almost like you’ve never seen him before, like you’re able to stare at him without whatever curtain there was blocking your view. He kisses you, this time it's soft, almost caring, like he’s telling you something without having to use his voice. Your hands find his hair, they roost comfortably in the tresses, tight against his scalp, the feeling of your hands on him like this makes you want him even more. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth, he rests more on top of you, the feeling of his bare chest against you, the feeling of his tongue running against yours, feels so right. You pull at his hair, earning a low groan from him that only makes you need more of him. He ruts his hips involuntarily against your center, making you whine against his kiss. He smiles into the kiss, “You need more, don’t you princess?” His husky voice asks, “Please, Danny, please touch me.” The tone of your voice surprises even you the way you’re pleading with him. “No need to beg baby, I’ll give it to you.” He promises, his voice you can tell has an edge to it, he’s far from done with teasing you. Danny’s lips come to your neck, the feeling of his breath and tongue against your sensitive skin driving you wild, his tongue licks up the shell of your ear, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you said you loved sitting on someone's face.'' His voice melts like candle wax as he speaks into your ear, a moan escapes you from just his words and closeness to you. “I want to taste you, princess.” “Please.” Your own voice betraying you, it's been far too long since you’ve been this intimate with anyone, you’ve been practically climbing up the walls from how withdrawn you’ve been since you and Marcus broke up. The way Danny has you just like this without having really touched you is a testament to how in need you are, you worry that even the very first touch of his tongue will make you cum.

He pulls out of the kiss and looks to you, "Let me see what you look like riding mine.'' He smirks that ever present cocky smile and rolls over on his back next to you. You sit up and look at him, laying beautifully with his hair laid over your pillows, the last place you thought you'd ever find Danny, but he looks like he belongs here. Belongs under the candlelight, like it's the one place you could ever truly see him, like invisible ink under a black light, he is revealed to you. With him on display like this you let your eyes wander, the broad expanse of his chest, his abdomen that is rippling with muscle, his shoulders are wide and skin that looks so warm and inviting. Your core is dripping wet from all Danny's teasing, he puts his hands under his head, relaxed as you sit up before him, sitting on your knees. "Take it all off baby, gimme a show."

You give him a confident grin, letting your hands come to unclasp the back of your bra, you slowly work off the straps on either side, revealing your breasts to him, tossing the undergarment away. His eyes look to your chest, ogling your breasts and your waist, you take your time, taking away some of the power he’s held over you thus far, turning around so he can see your bareback and your lacy underwear adorning your ass, red hand print and all. He grins to himself at his handiwork, hoping you’ll think of him tomorrow when your ass stings when you sit down, remembering who the handprint on your skin belongs to. You bend over to slowly pull your already soaking wet panties down your legs, finally kicking them off and turning to look back at Danny, his eyes looking like he could set you on fire just from his stare. You give him a sweet smile as you crawl over his body, straddling his face, feeling just a tad self conscious, “Climb on, princess.” He rasps, his breath fanning over you, sending a shiver up your spine. You make your way higher up on his face and slowly sit down, trying not to rest all of your weight on him. His tongue immediately lays flat against you, a moan rolling out of your mouth, much louder than you anticipated, Danny chuckles against you from the volume of your moan. He begins a delicious assault on your clit, your legs begin to tremble as you attempt to hold your weight up above him. Your tries are in vain as Danny pulls you fully against his lips, his large hands gripping around your thighs, holding you to his face, keeping you from straining yourself, you ease into him, finally letting go and letting him take over. You relinquish your power, if you even had any to begin with, over to Danny, letting his hot tongue bury into you. You mewl above him, the feeling too good to hold back, you look down, his eyes are closed, completely blissed out and in beautiful concentration as he fucks you with his tongue.

You try your best to keep some sort of composure, not allowing yourself to touch him, out of fear of hurting him or something but his tongue kitten licks at your core in just the perfect way that you can’t hold back anymore. Your hands go to his hair and you can’t help but pull at his long dark waves and rock your hips against him, his hands reach up your body, squeezing at your breasts, his thumbs running over your hardened nipples. You rock harder on his mouth, searching desperately for your orgasm, his tongue laps at you in such a way that you can’t keep your hips from bucking, his nose bumps against your clit and you let out a high pitched whine, “Oh fuuuck yes.” You cry out as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to get to that sweet place of relief, when all of a sudden Danny completely stops, fuck. You whine from the loss of his tongue, you look down to him, he smiles up at you with a dark expression. “Feels too good baby? You know what happens when you break our rule.” He says, scolding you. “Please Danny, please I’m so close-” “Lay down.” He simply commands, his hand tapping you slightly on your thigh. Your legs feel like jello as you roll off of him, he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off his long legs, leaving him only in his briefs, his cock straining against his underwear. Danny comes to hold himself up above you, “Poor baby, so close to cumming and she had to go ahead and ruin it for herself.” His voice is like honey when he says such dirty things, you can only give him a look of pure anguish as he speaks, you squeeze your thighs together, relishing in the feeling of your own wetness and Danny’s saliva, you need more of him like your life depends on it. His eyes catch on to your movement, his hand takes hold of your jaw, cradling it gently yet firmly in his hand, “Don’t worry, I’m still gonna take care of you, even if you are acting like a little brat.” He smiles at you, you give him the biggest doe eyed look you can muster, silently begging him to hurry up and fuck you senseless.

“You look so beautiful like this, so sweet.” His hand wanders from your face and travels down your face, sliding down your breasts, down past your stomach and finally between your thighs, your eyes never leaving his as his fingers slip through your folds and up against your clit, you let out a shaky sigh at his touch, he tilts his head as he watches your reaction intently, he pulls his fingers away and to his lips, tasting you, “You taste even sweeter.” His voice is gravelly and rough, so sexy and lude. His fingers come back between your thighs, his middle finger slowly stroking up and down over your clit, the feeling of his warm wet fingers make you practically shiver at his touch, “You like when I touch you like this, princess?” His voice like a snake slithering in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body in a wave. “Yes, Danny.” Your voice quakes with desperation, “Please, please fuck me, I want you so bad.” You breathe, if he weren’t so close he probably wouldn’t have heard it. His fingers slide inside of you, so easily and sweetly from the way his mouth worked over you. You and Danny collectively sigh at the feeling, “Oh fuck, you feel so tight. You ready for me baby?” He asks tenderly as he looks you over, “Please.” You moan as he slowly pulls his fingers away.

Danny pulls his briefs down, his erection springing up, his hand stroking himself slowly. Your eyes like a deer in the headlights at the beauty of his hardened cock, the motion of his hand over his already slick looking head makes your pussy throb. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever been with, so full and long. You honestly could probably cum without even touching yourself at this point, just watching the melodic movement of his large hand, the veins on the tops of the skin of his hand turning you on more than it should as he moves up and down his hardened shaft. Danny smirks at your reaction, a low chuckle rolling up his throat brings you back to him, you close your mouth that you didn’t even realize was open until his eyes were on you. “Roll over, ass up.” Danny’s voice sends a heat to your cheeks, you give him one last glance before turning over. The warm still air feels like the electricity is back and flowing throughout the room, but you know that's only because of the energy between you and the dark curly haired man about to rail you into oblivion.

You give him a bit of a show, getting on all fours and dipping forward until your chest lays against the sheets, swaying your ass gently, not being able to speak kills you but you wouldn't even know what to say besides, 'please fuck me, please put me in my place, please I wanna feel you.' But your motions and your dripping wet pussy say plenty without saying anything at all. "Such a pretty girl, see how good you are when you keep your mouth shut." His voice makes you red with both annoyance and pure eroticism, you never thought that hearing him say things like this to you would do so much to you. You protest silently, pushing your ass back against him, searching for his warmth. His hand comes down on your ass again, stinging more than it should from your previous spankings. You hold back a whine with your lip tucked between your teeth, "What's the rush, princess?" His hand rubs a soft circle over the stinging flesh, his other hand venturing down the center of your back and sliding down over your ass, his fingers running over your pussy, "I'll take good care of you." He breathes gently, you sigh at the feeling of his warm hand against your throbbing core, needing more of him and quick. His middle finger teases your clit, swirling the bud under the pad of his finger, you let out a moan and a shaking breath from the attention you've been craving, but as quickly as his hand appeared, it disappears, withdrawing it as he lines himself up to your entrance.

He ruts himself up against the curve of your ass, you both sigh at the delightful feeling of some sort of physical affection. His length teases at your entrance, gathering the arousal from your center and wetting his tip, you damn near let out a cry of desperation, trying to hold it together until finally, he slides into you. The sound of your collective sigh as you both fall entranced by the feeling of the other. He feels so good, so fucking good, stretching you out in a way you haven’t felt before, his length was something you needed a moment to adjust to, and proving to be ever the gentleman, he allowed you such a moment. “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, nearly voiceless as his presence inside you completely engulfs every space inside of your mind. His hips start up a slow pace, his hands holding you just tight enough to move you against him but enough for you to try and cement this feeling in your memory forever. “Feels so fucking tight, feels so good baby.” He groans, his hips picking up their rhythm as you find you both find your footing in the feeling of each other. His hands grip tighter on your hips, his cock slamming into you so deeply, reaching your cervix and running against your g-spot has you moaning, crumbling under him, the way his body feels against yours like he is so intune with you, hitting all the right spots. Your moans are falling out of you like he’s punching them out with his hips snapping against you, you turn your head as well as you can from your position against the pillows. His body is glimmering under the light of the candles, his beautifully dark hair swaying in time with him, his eyes hooded in pleasure. The look on his face is enough to pull a soft, “Danny,” from your lips. Why you said his name knowing you were told not to speak, well, you’re not even sure why, was it because this was all too crazy to be real? Was it that you could feel your heart swell from his soft and vulnerable expression as he buried himself inside you? Or was it because all of this was something you had only thought of in your darkest fantasies? That this hate fuck felt less like hate and more like years of pent up frustration and desire finally succumbing into a puddle of bliss, moans and candle light.

You kept your eyes trained on him, the pain in your neck be damned, you weren’t going to miss this for the world. All of those nights around a Kiszka’s campfire, staring daggers at each other over the flames, all of the pointed comments, the little outbursts of annoyance seemed to build a wall not between you two, but around the both of you, pushing you closer and closer to each other until it brought you here, to this boiling point. Danny’s eyes find yours, a lazy smile out of pure ecstasy on his lips, even with him fucking you from behind like this, this moment of eye contact feels even more intimate. Your brows are knit from the feeling of the tension building inside of you, your mouth hanging open as you stare at him, feeling like he can almost see right through you. You have to tear your eyes away, fearing he can see straight into your soul. His hand finds its way to your hair, pulling you up on all fours, the feeling of his fist pulling you by your scalp making you moan, you retaliate and start to press back against him, fucking yourself on his length, letting Danny just ease back and letting you take over. “You’re such a fucking slut. Fucking yourself on me like this.” His voice falters, betraying him through his tough and domineering behavior. You giggle to yourself, loving the way you can make him react, you try and recreate the pace he had set, but moving backwards is too hard to keep up with the merciless metronome of his pelvis. Danny leans forward, his chest against you for a moment as his arms circle around you, pulling your whole body up, your back flushed against his chest, a low groan is pulled from your vocal chords in the change of position, his hard dick deeper inside you now.

“You’re so cute when you think you’re in control.” His voice is low, right against the shell of your ear, one arm wrapped against your chest, his hand grasping one of your breasts as his other hand is holding tight to your hip from his arm strapped across your belly, locking you in a perfect position of pure pleasure, but also a hold you couldn’t move from. You let your head lay back against his shoulder, letting go and letting him pound into you from this new angle. Your eyes practically roll back into your skull as you can feel him moving inside you, his tip brushing wonderfully against your g-spot makes you let out a long moan at the feeling. “So good for me, so good princess.” His throat vibrates against you, the feeling of it alone sends you through the roof in pleasure. These small things he does shouldn’t be affecting you so much but here you are, thinking about the way his voice sounds, the small puffs of breath falling from his pillowy lips and against your shoulder, the way his hair tickles your back, and the way his arm muscles look as they hold your body tight against his own. You look up to his face, acknowledging the perfect angle of his jaw line, the soft skin of his neck, you can’t resist, you lean forward with whatever room you have and lick up his neck and up to his ear lobe, letting a moan sing into his ear as you rest against him, looking at his face in profile, even prettier this close up.

Danny looks down into your begging doe eyes, swiftly pulling himself out of you and spinning you around to lie on your back, him tossing you around like a rag doll makes your jaw drop. He hovers above you, lining himself back up and sliding inside you once more. His eyes seem to drink you in, looking over you like he never had before, he fills you back up, fully seated inside of you, you bite down on your lip, a routine you're growing too accustomed to, trying your best to keep quiet, wanting to cum so badly you don't risk letting anything slip without Danny’s permission. You whine under him as he thrusts into you, turning to quiet yourself in the solace of the pillows beside you, Danny moans at the sight, how you squirm and writhe beneath him. His hand comes down to your face, grabbing you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “You can speak now baby, show me how fucking good you feel.” He sounds desperate, needing so badly to hear your voice you once thought he couldn’t stand. You let your bottom lip free from your teeth’s hold on it, letting your groans, curses and his name all fall freely from your lips. The two of you hold eye contact as he brings his thumb to your clit, rolling in tight circles making your back arch.

With his permission in your mind, you don't hold back, moans flowing forth, crying out in pure ecstasy, "You're cock feels so fucking good, so fucking big." You sob out, your voice coming out in shambles as his thrusts ramp up at the sound of your whines. "You're such a whore for this cock, always such a princess." His voice quaking from his hips snapping against yours, he lets himself come down closer to you, a proximity you find yourself hypnotized by. His eyes are golden brown, they’re beautiful the way they feel on you is like you can feel a bubbling energy in your chest, your hands come to hold him closer to you, feeling his back muscles rippling underneath your palms. His expression looks less boastful and cocky as he usually looks, instead he looks almost vulnerable? He looks more human like he’s holding onto the memory of your face underneath him, he looks less like a douchebag prick and more like prince charming. The knot in your lower stomach is becoming increasingly obvious, unable to hold back the white hot feeling of bursting at the seams any longer. “D-Danny, I’m so close.” You mewl, your legs wrapping around his hips, “Me too, I’m almost there.” His voice is addictive, the way he sounds like he’s slowly coming apart draws you nearer to paradise. “Please don’t stop.” You beg, your eyes fluttering closed as you fall into the feeling of his thumb running against your clit, never waning in its movements. A sudden pressure on your throat brings you back to him, “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum.” He demands, “Yes, sir.” You croak out as best as you can, the feeling of his hands on you in this way, controlling your pleasure, when you can cum and even controlling your flow of oxygen is so sexy it pulls you near the edge, just mere inches from falling into the abyss. He can feel the way your pussy tightens around him that you’re close, he brings up his speed double time, “I’m gonna, oh Danny-” Danny releases his hold over your windpipe,“Come on baby, cum for me.” His words and the rush of oxygen bringing on your climax, you do as you’re told and never let your eyes wander from Danny, you claw at him and cling to him for dear life as he continues to pound into you, chasing after his own high.

He watches intently as you writhe underneath him, he looks absolutely entranced by you, the way you look so lost in a perfect dream like state as you moan and whine, his mouth slack jawed as he gets lost in you, his thumb slowing on your clit to guide you through your orgasm without you falling through it and becoming overstimulated. Though it was his instruction not to look away from him, to look at him when you cum, you don’t think you could look away if you tried. His eyes are hazy with a beautiful fog of lust, you can’t stop the flow of his name rolling off of your tongue as the knot inside of you snaps, your ankles locking him against you, your nails clawing down his back is what finally does it. “Ah-ah, fuck.” He groans, you watch in equal awe as Danny’s brows knit in angelic bliss, completely dropping his hardened exterior as he cums, hard and deep inside you. He presses his forehead against yours, his husky voice like silk as he cries out your name, he holds you close, your hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling him down into the crook of your neck, needing him closer to you as you both fall to pieces in each other's embrace.

The labored breathing of the two of you as you come back to earth is what gets your mind turning, fuck, what have you done? This can’t be a mistake, like you thought before, what is there to lose? You don’t even like Danny, you’re not even friends?! Right? Then why does the thought of him getting up and leaving you tonight make you feel sick to your stomach? “So,” You start, bringing Danny back to you, his head popping up and looking almost meekly up at you, as though you just caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Would you rather, we keep this a secret and never speak of this again,” You ask, looking for the rest of your courage to say what you have to say next. “Or spend the night with me and figure out what the fuck this all means?” You look to him as he rolls over next to you, his gaze fixated on the candlelight bouncing around the ceiling. He just lets out a content laugh, “I’m not an idiot-” “Well…” You jest, trying to break the tension as you let your head roll over to look at him, “I’m not a total idiot, is what I meant. I don’t think this was a one time thing, do you?” He asks, his answer surprising you, the bile in your stomach calming down now that you seem to be on the same page. “This was too…” You hesitate looking for the words to best describe your true feelings, even if you don’t totally understand them yourself, “Easy? I guess? I don’t know, I just, I didn’t think I… wanted this so badly.” You smile, hoping you make even a bit of sense. “Yeah, me neither.” Danny confesses wistfully, his eyes looking over your face, he looks so plush and soft, you scoot closer, inches from his lips now. “Maybe I don’t hate you as much as I thought I did.” You whisper against him, he smirks his hand pushing a strand of hair gently behind your ear, “Yeah, I don’t think I could hate you anymore. Not now that I know you’re not a total brat.” He says with a look in his eye that makes you blush.

The lamp by your bedside turns on, the whirring and buzzing of the power in your building coming back to life, the dreamscape you had created with Danny now essentially dissolving away, bringing you both back to reality. “Looks like the power is back on.” You observe, “You’re not trapped here anymore, if you want to leave.” You say, worried what his answer may be. “I think we should get cleaned up, don’t want to sleep in dirty sheets, and I think we could both use a shower.” He says so casually it sets your heart at ease. You give him a smile, eyes lingering as he leans in and kisses you deeply, the feeling pushing away any doubts from your mind. So here you are, finding yourself staring back at your former nemesis, thinking of how you ever once hated a face that is so perfectly sittable.

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url-is-under-construction · 4 years ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Based off the prompt: “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.

If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.

No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.

“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”

It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.

“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.

You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.

It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.

This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.

You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.

“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.

“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.

The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.

【~~~】

It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.

You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.

It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.

You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.

It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.

She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.

It was a mistake.

Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.

“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”

“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.

“You know if you hadn’t been so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”

His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.

He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.

“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.

“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.

“How do you feel about going out tonight?”

【~~~】

Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.

You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.

The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.

You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.

Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.

He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.

“There are some people I want you to meet.”

You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.

You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.

“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.

He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.

“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”

His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.

“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.

You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.

“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.

“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.

“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”

A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.

“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”

He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.

A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.

“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”

You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”

“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.

“What are you doing here Y/n?”

Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.

“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.

“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”

Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.

“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”

His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.

“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”

You scoffed light-heartedly.

“How old are you?”

He just grinned. “Too old for you.”

“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.

Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.

He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.

“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“We’ll see.”

【~~~】

“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.

“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”

The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.

“So are you gonna?”

You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.

“Am I gonna what?”

“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”

You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.

“Maybe, if I have the time.”

“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”

You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.

“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”

“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.

“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”

Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”

“What are you? Five?” You asked.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.

Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.

You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.

【~~~】

You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.

Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.

“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.

“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”

“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.

All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.

“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.

Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.

The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.

“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.

Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.

“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.

“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.

“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.

You looked over at Han.

“That’s your car?”

“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.

“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.

“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.

“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.

You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.

“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.

He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.

“Now, if that works for you.”

You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.

“Sounds good.”

【~~~】

The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.

You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.

You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.

Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.

“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.

“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.

He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”

“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”

You let out a scoff.

“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”

He chuckled at you.

“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”

A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.

“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.

“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.

“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.

“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.

“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”

He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.

Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.

“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” You agreed.

The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.

“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.

“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”

You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.

“What do I do then?” You asked.

“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”

His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.

It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.

Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3

If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!

#han lue #han seoul oh #han seoul-oh #x reader #han lue imagine #han lue x reader #han seoul oh imagine #han seoul oh x reader #han seoul-oh imagine #han seoul-oh x reader #fast and furious imagine #fast and furious x reader #the fast and the furious imagine

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rafescoke · 3 years ago

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Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her.

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill.

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up.

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her.

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?”

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting.

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck.

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes.

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after.

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

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americasass81 · 2 years ago

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I posted 4,030 times in 2022

88 posts created (2%)

3,942 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@saiyanprincessswanie

@targaryenvampireslayer

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor

@syntheticavenger

@lokislastlove

I tagged 1,497 of my posts in 2022

#signal boost - 1,167 posts

#please support creators by reblogging their work - 981 posts

#seriously go check out their masterlists - 824 posts

#fic rec - 303 posts

#fic chapter rec - 212 posts

#writer masterlist - 170 posts

#remember to be kind - 111 posts

#writer promotion - 95 posts

#writer appreciation - 60 posts

#missy's reading lists - 58 posts

Longest Tag: 96 characters

#𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧/𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

My Top Posts in 2022:

What's Another Year?

Warnings:- Predominantly Fluff, Mild Language, Feelings of insecurity, Very Mild Smut (handjob, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex), Use of Pet Name. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Synopsis:- Waking up another year older is never the nicest feeling in the world, except when your lovingly thoughtful boyfriend decides to surprise you over and over and over again.

Author’s Note 1:- Written for @syntheticavenger as a Birthday gift. Synth, just for you, soft!Ari. First time writing for him so I hope this brings a smile to your face the same way your presence and talent on here always does for those of us that interact with you and escape into your fics. You deserve the world and I hope you get it. Lyl babe 💕💕💕

Author’s Note 2:- Also hid a little easter egg in here. Wonder if you’ll find it 😉🙂

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Pairings:- Ari Levinson x Female Reader.

Word Count:- 4,257

Closing your eyes tighter and rolling over in bed as the morning sunlight tried to creep along the carpet and call out to you, you groaned and buried your head deeper into the pillows. Waking up most days was never exactly your favorite thing to do, but waking up another year older ... ugh, that was unthinkable.

Whose bright idea was birthdays anyway? What was so special about a stupid counting game that tied in with the changing of hands on a clock at midnight? Sure, to society this yearly ritual was significant. Marked by celebrations and new achievements, discarding of old habits and the odd defining, or as some people referred to them, unwelcome characteristics. Why then couldn't society simply find a better way to mark the passage of time, or better yet, just ignore it altogether? Why couldn't a person stay the age they felt for as long as they felt it and just enjoy life as it was in that window of time?

Contemplating these silly questions as your hand reached out and groped the empty bed beside you, your mood turned decidedly worse as you threw off the sheets and moved over to the unoccupied side of the bed. Wrapping your arms around the pillow and inhaling the distinct fragrance that was all Ari, your heart ached at the longing you felt to have him wrapped around you today of all days.

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Standing quietly in the doorway as you slept on oblivious to the world around you, Ari's eyes raked over your body hidden under the sheets and still marveled at the innocent countenance bathed in slumber. Oh sure, his lips smirked at the thought of how ... adventurous you were willing to be, but here in the moments between sleep and awakening untouched by the worries of the world, you looked absolutely peaceful.

He loved that look so much. But he also knew he couldn't hold onto it much longer today unfortunately. Having been called away for work at the last minute almost three weeks ago and still facing two more weeks cleaning up another agent's sloppy work, he was determined to be here when you woke up on your special day and thankfully the couch downstairs held evidence of that achievement.

Moving his hair out of his face and gazing once more at your ethereal beauty as your chest gently rose and fell within the safety of your dreams, his heart ached at having to disturb this fairytale picture, but it had to be done. Knowing you longed to have him here, but being too kind and thoughtful to place your expectations on him, he was determined not to waste a second more of your birthday, so picking up the remote and grateful for the quiet motor, he hit the switch to slowly open the blinds and welcome the sun's rays.

Watching then as you remained sleeping while trying to outmaneuver the oncoming light, a chuckle escaped his throat as you reached out towards his pillow and inadvertently exposed yourself to his wandering eyes. Realizing in that moment that perhaps he too needed this reunion every bit as much as you, Ari stalled the blind where it was as his feet began to move him towards your glorious form. Sitting down on the warm spot that your body had just vacated, his hand then reached out to caress your soft ass as his head bent down to nestle by your ear.

"Happy birthday honey. Nice butt," he managed to whisper out before all manner of chaos ensued.

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Shocked awake by a warm hand gently squeezing your left ass cheek as a birthday wish tickled your ear, your head rising from the pillow and connecting with another hard object left the room bathed in a slew of profanities and words of concern.

"Fuck."

"Ow."

“Shit.”

“Damn it.”

"Are you all right?"

"What the hell."

"Calm down honey, it's just me," and it was these words more than any other that pierced through the fog of sleep and anchored you in the waking world. You knew that voice. But it couldn't be.

Righting yourself properly on the bed as your hand massaged the tender spot by your right ear, your heart skipped and your eyes tried to confirm what they were seeing as Ari Levinson, you best friend, lover and the man of your dreams sat before you making sure your head hadn't damaged his face.

"A-Ari?" you questioned, as your trembling hand reached out to grab hold of his gray t-shirt. Closing your fingers around the fabric as his hand reached down to join yours, the reality of him actually being there hit you with the same force as you launching yourself into his powerful frame. "Ari, oh my god you're here. How are you here? Why are you here? How did you get here? When did you get home?" you blurted out between kisses as your lips tried to get reacquainted with every part of his face while your hands held him so tight in case he suddenly disappeared.

Chuckling at your eagerness as his fingers trailed soothing patterns along your spine, he waited until you seemed satisfied that he wasn’t an illusion before settling you properly in his lap and kissing you tenderly before speaking. "I got home last night and slept on the couch so I could surprise you. Surprise honey," he laughed out as his lips captured yours once more in a kiss that now conveyed all the passion and longing both of you had missed these past three weeks.

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51 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

Writer Appreciation

I know it seems pointless and a losing battle, but I hope every creator on here knows just how much they are appreciated and loved. It forever seems like the hate on here outweighs the love and honestly I'm amazed anyone is left here, but all the amazing people (yes anons, it's people that run these blogs) here truly are unbelievable treasures who deserve nothing but our unending love, loyalty, support and gratitude. You help comfort us, inspire us, make us laugh, cry and for however long a story last, take us away to fantastic places. You also help so realize that just maybe we're not as weird or crazy as we think we are. So from one extremely grateful fan to an unbelievably amazing community

Tagging just a tiny bunch of this wonderful community in no particular order (so sorry I can't tag everyone):- @darkthallas @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @nsfwsebbie @nastybuckybarnes @navybrat817 @nano--raptor @imanuglywombat @imdarkinme @threeminutesoflife @that-damn-girl @candy-and-writing @gotnofucks @ironlady1993 @searchforanotherway @starynighty @stargazingfangirl18 @giorno-plays-piano @lokislastlove @jtargaryen18 @jobean12-blog @dragon-of-dreams @nellblazer @syntheticavenger @boxofbonesfic @avintagekiss24 @musingsinmoonlight @saiyanprincessswanie @ozarkthedog @hoseokchild @cherienymphe @my-emotional-self @mdemontespan1667 @champagne-bucky @chaotictarlos @cockslut-padalecki @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sugardaddytonystark

76 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

Claiming His Prize

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, Penetrative Sex, Oral (m & f receiving), Fingering, Implied Edging, Use of Pet Name. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairings:- soft dark!Loki x Female Reader.

Author’s Note 1: Qualifying for @cockslut-padalecki @sweeterthanthis Love (To Challenge) Yourself Challenge since I have never before written for Loki (see prompt in bold), this little gift for the wonderfully talented @lokislastlove was inspired by the beautiful new theme change that once again is minus her beloved Asgardian prince (😂naughty girl😂). Hope anyone who reads this enjoys it as much as I did writing it.

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- What will you do when the Asgardian God of Mischief comes calling?

Total Word Count:- 3,892

Standing beside the staircase as Stark's guests paid him little attention, Loki's keen eyes never left you all night as you mingled, laughed and talked with the various people whose paths crossed with yours. Radiant and ethereal in every way, he still couldn't believe that this wretched planet held wonders such as you. Oh but it did and what an enchantress you were.

Dressed in his colors just a few short feet away, chatting with the spider boy who hung on your every word while his beady little eyes wandered over your glorious frame, Loki once again felt the jealousy stir within him. Having spent the past year learning every tiny detail about your life, likes and dislikes, Loki was determined to make you see that he was the only one worthy of your love and devotion.

But how to accomplish that when other methods had failed?

Watching Peter move away to pester his mentor Tony Stark, Loki seized his opportunity and sliding into the newly vacated spot beside you at the bar decided to make his intentions known yet again. "Hello pet," he whispered as he signaled to the bartender to supply another round, "how much longer do you plan on playing this silly game?"

"Game?" you questioned, turning around now to face this unwelcome annoyance. "Whatever are you talking about now?"

"You ignoring me," he clarified, before taking a sip of his newly arrived drink. "All night I've watched you grace these lesser creatures with your company while I go unnoticed. Hell, even that child gets to bask in your magnificence," he all but pouted. "When will you realize that I am the only one worthy of your time?"

Looking at him as you contemplated your answer, you were actually surprised when you realized he was truly serious. He really did think that highly of himself. Bringing your glass to your lips and steeling yourself for what lay ahead, you took one long gulp of champagne before answering. "Worthy? You really think yourself worthy of me when you stand here insulting my friends while being who you are. Peter may be as you say, a boy compared to you, but he is more of a hero than you will ever be," you spat and with that you set down the remainder of your drink, turned on your heel and left the god speechless where he stood.

Glancing around quickly to see if anyone had caught your interactions, as well as your little tantrum, Loki was thankful at least that the party was proving enough of a distraction to hide your rejection of him. Scanning the rest of the room to see you slipping out the main doors unnoticed, he thought back on your words and accepted that his subtle attempts to woo you were no longer sufficient. Setting down his drink and walking off after you, he now decided that a more direct approach was needed.

Entering the main hallway to find a few intoxicated individuals propping themselves up against the nearest available surface, Loki glanced around keenly for any sign of your current whereabouts. Noticing a door at the end of the hall just near closing, the God of Mischief decided to test his luck and heading towards it, pushed through to find himself in an indoor pool area filled with all manner of thriving plants as the stars in the heavens shone down through the clear glass ceiling. Adjusting his sight to the natural light illuminating this unique space, part of him easily recognized the pull this place would have on you. Silently moving through the room, his steps halted and his heart all but stopped as his eyes happened upon the image before him.

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92 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Super Soldier Rescue

Warnings:- Very Mild Kidnapping, Use of Pet Names.18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author's Note 1:- Was inspired to write this for our beloved @navybrat817 from the following post. It’s totally criminal that no one has rescued you Navy so I hope you enjoy this little treat. Thank you so much for all you do and simply being you.

Author’s Note 2:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics for creating the included Fall divider. Please go check out Daisy’s work and pass on some love.

Synopsis:- What happens when two super soldiers decide to try their hand at rescuing a damsel?

Pairing:- soft-ish!Steve Rogers x Named Female Reader (kinda) x soft-ish!Bucky Barnes

Word Count:- 5,485

Monday morning arrived sooner than you wanted and as you turned over in bed and gazed at the alarm clock, you couldn't hold back the groan that tore its way out of your exhausted body. Another week lay ahead and no matter how much you enjoyed the work and your co-workers, a serious break was long overdue.

Work, bills, family obligations, rinse and repeat and you were finally ready to put your feet up and let the world melt away while the man of your dreams pampered you to the ends of the earth. But that was wishful thinking.

Finally resigning yourself to the reality and responsibility that ruled your life, you grudgingly dragged yourself out of bed and headed off to the bathroom to start your morning routine. Showering quickly, you then dressed just as hastily and headed down the hall to wake your precious bundles that made everything worth it and start them off on their morning adventure.

Opening their bedroom doors and heading off their protests with a gentle reminder that Halloween was almost upon them. The resulting prospect of a break from school, accompanied by fun and scary activities around the neighborhood was enough to secure their co-operation and thankfully thirty minutes later, life was back to what passed for normal as your busy little family settled into the car and left the house for another day.

Arriving at school some time later, you hugged and kissed your little angels, reminded them to listen to their teachers and watched them safely through the gates before climbing back inside your car. Sighing deeply at the niggling doubt that maybe you weren't doing a good enough job of being there for them as you spied some of what was called the trophy moms chatting and wasting time, you swiftly admonished yourself for listening to that demon in the back of your mind.

Sure like most working parents you were constantly tired and overstretched, but you could find solace in the fact that your kids were the one thing you truly excelled at. Adored beyond measure, they never wanted for food, love or your attention and anyone that met them always commented what confident, shining examples your little boy and girl appeared to be. Bolstered once again as their smiling faces and waving arms filled your vision, you focused your attention back on the car park and turning the key in the ignition, headed off to the office to see what disasters awaited you there.

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98 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

One Fateful Christmas

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, Penetrative Sex, Mild Violence, Fingering, Choking, Spanking, Language, Implied Edging, Implied Somnophilia, Use of Pet Name. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairings:- dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader.

Author’s Note 1: This is my submission for @lokislastlove @darkficsyouneveraskedfor XXXmas Writing Event. Thanks so much you two for hosting this event, it was both fun and scary in equal measure. Hope anyone who reads this enjoys it as much as I did writing it.

Challenge parameters used:-

🔹Prompt:- The cabin shakes with the brisk bellow of the winter storm, you couldn't leave if you wanted to.

🔹Troupe:- Obsessive Ex. Snowed In/Stranded.

🔹Kinks:- Somnophilia, Spanking, Edging, Name Calling, Choking.

🔹Dialogue:- It's nice here. Far away . . . from everything. Everyone.

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Your peaceful Christmas vacation is interrupted by a not so mysterious visitor.

Total Word Count:- 5,399

December fourteenth and you were almost home. Having saved up your holidays, you packed your few essential items into the back of your truck and headed off to the cabin you hadn't seen in almost four years. Working hard amid job cuts, pandemics and generally demanding personal events, you were finally looking forward to getting back to nature and the peace and quiet this isolated retreat always provided. Having been on the road for five hours, leaving more and more of civilization behind felt like a weight you didn't know you were carrying being lifted off your weary shoulders. Finally reaching the dirt road that signaled isolation and relaxation, you turned off the radio and took in the stunning view all around you.

Welcoming you back, the trees leading up to the cabin looked beautiful in the winter light as the lake, mountain and forest embraced you like an old friend. Parking in your usual spot where the trees kissed the front of the property, you killed the engine, stepped out of your trusty vehicle and took your first long awaited drags of the cool, unpolluted mountain air. Here, surrounded by nature with not another soul for miles in any direction, was where you truly felt at peace. Finally beginning to feel the chill, you walked to the side of the truck and reaching into the back, removed the first of the boxes and headed inside.

Opening the front door and dropping the box off to the side, three more trips and you were all set. Next, making sure all was working as it should be, your first task was to set up the fire in order to stave off the cold that usually lingered here at this time of year. Cleaning out the fireplace before rounding up some firewood, an hour later and your first break in four years had finally begun.

Sitting on the couch as the wood sparked and crackled and spread its heat throughout the cabin, you took a few moments to just relax before deciding what to do next. Eventually getting the warmth back into your body, you rose from your comfortable spot, stretched your relaxed limbs and started to get on with what was left of your day.

Heading to the kitchen and clearing out the boxes you had brought from home, you tore open a pizza, popped it in the oven and then headed into the bathroom for a quick shower to remove the rest of the residue left behind by the city. Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a fuzzy robe, the smells of burning wood and melted cheese told you that all your cares were finally behind you.

Placing one more log on the fire as you walked back towards the kitchen, you then washed your hands and carefully removing the piping hot meal, placed it on a rack to cool as you poured yourself a nicely chilled wine from the fridge. Then cutting and plating up the pizza, you headed back to the living room to settle down with some mindless holiday entertainment. Half an hour later, fully fed and recharged, you turned off the tv and went about emptying out the remainder of the boxes before calling it a night and heading off to the glorious bed that called out to you

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Waking the next morning to the news reporter on your radio telling you of a possible impending storm in the area, you groaned and hit the snooze button before rolling over to catch another hour's sleep. Opening your eyes again a whole two hours later, you dragged your body out of bed, showered quickly and headed off to face the day.

Looking around while eating breakfast, you sighed as you realized you still had so much work to do that a storm could so easily screw up. The decorations, along with the firewood were out back in the shed and naturally, if the power went out, no Christmas treats would be yours to enjoy. Finishing up your toast and cereal, you placed your bowl in the sink and pulling on your warmest layers, headed out to face the elements.

Catching your breath at the stunning scene which greeted you, your mind couldn't reconcile what your eyes were seeing with what your ears had heard on the news. Sure the ground in every direction was covered in an undisturbed white blanket, but the tiny flakes that danced lightly in the gentle breeze were no portents of doom and gloom. Drawing yourself back to the task at hand, you picked your steps carefully to the back shed and sliding the door open, got to work on your plan.

Pulling the axe from the log you figured warmth took priority over presentation and so taking off your jacket and gloves, picked up the first log and swung cleanly through it. Swinging swiftly but carefully, a warm body and chilled hands rewarded you with enough wood to heat your now weary bones for at least a week. Bagging up each and every log, you then dumped them all in the storage cupboard inside the cabin as the day still showed no indication of the disaster to come.

Stopping by your truck next to make sure it was still running, the temperamental old girl gave her usual stuttering complaints before rewarding you with the sounds of life that meant you weren't completely cut off from civilization. Thanking her gratefully, you then cut the engine, hauled ass back to the shed and moved the Christmas boxes back up to the cabin. Then, since you always insisted on having a proper tree here, you picked up the axe once more, walked off towards the lake and chopped down the required holiday symbol.

Glancing now at your watch as your stomach interrupted the silence around you, you pulled the tree back up the property and returning the axe to the shed, dragged the tree inside and laid it on the floor. At last feeling the aches and pains that the morning activities had brought as you leaned against the door, you removed your outer layers, washed your hands and placed some food in the oven before a welcoming shower brought you back to life.

Having finally been refreshed, you then made your way back to the living room and gazing out the window at the soft flakes floating on the breeze, retrieved the outdoor lights from the boxes and wound them around the porch while waiting for the oven to complete its task. Once both tasks were completed, you ate as quickly as your taste buds allowed before cleaning up and getting on with the remainder of your day.

Moving gracefully around the kitchen, you procured everything necessary to begin whipping up some of your favorite holiday treats before placing them in the oven. Then turning on some festive tunes, you used the time wisely to begin decking out the cabin with all the contents from the shed boxes until every square foot complimented the shimmering landscape outside. Satisfied with the Christmas scene you had created, you finished off the baking before settling down by the fire not knowing that the lone figure braving the elements surrounding your peaceful haven was about to throw your holiday season into utter chaos.

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Driving along the road as another sleepless night held him in its grasp, Andy watched the lights get less and less as he tried once more to figure out where it all went wrong. A year. Twelve long months almost to the day since you had left him. Yet you were never truly gone. Your hair. Your lips. Your skin. Your eyes. Your beautiful smile. All these things still haunted his dreams and tortured his soul.

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225 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

1K notes · View notes

cloudycera · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 396 times in 2022

That's 173 more posts than 2021!

268 posts created (68%)

128 posts reblogged (32%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jasontoddsguns

@cloudycera

@079soren

@rillette

@penny-anna

I tagged 308 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#dc dcomics - 206 posts

#billy batson - 202 posts

#dc heroes - 197 posts

#justice league - 188 posts

#shazam - 168 posts

#captain marvel - 157 posts

#fanart - 84 posts

#art - 83 posts

#doodle - 66 posts

#mybillybatsonart - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#it turns out that the quickest ways to make me care about a ship are a) parallels and b)making it bad

My Top Posts in 2022:

Superman: Maybe it's better if we leave you out if certain missions.

Billy: Why?

Superman: *Sigh* Son, You might not be handle it.

Billy: Maybe not but i can handle your mom.

Superman: Excuse me.

Billy: You're right, You're mom's a lovely lady why go to space when I hang out with her.

Superman: Billy-

Billy: Maybe after that we can talk about how you're the strongest man on earth but you disappoint your wife at every turn.

Superman: What does tha-

Billy: Welp have fun let's talk more once you get back.

786 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

Do you like being a hero?

805 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Ya ever think about the sheer collapse of the Captain Marvel Stans in the DC universe if they ever found out he was a child, like the amount of people about to delete their thirst traps and simp posts would shatter the Internet.

The fighting would be crazy.

And Meanwhile the guy in question has had his phone on silent since 2016 and doesn't know how to download twitter.

880 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

A little treat for traumatising yall.

The Billy Gremlin and Batfam interactions, Billy's like a year younger than Tim and a couple years older than Damian.

*Justice league mission where Billy is just exploring the Batcave.*

Billy: I never noticed the Giant Coin. You'd think I'd notice the Giant coin, me of all people.

Flash: Why does Billy get to be in the Batcave but not me?

Batman: The energy surges happening all over the country have hospitals in critical state, I need you to stand by incase of emergency.

Billy: That means "Cause you're annoying."

Flash: Brat.

Batman: No, it doesn't, why are you here Captain?

Billy: Hmmm...why am I here?

Damian: You came in ecstatic about something till Alfred offered you cookies.

Billy: Kid when you're old enough you'll understand the importance of a good cookie when the world is in danger.

Damian: You are 2 years older than me.

Billy: And?

Batman: Get to the Point.

Billy: Oh yeah I have a lead on the energy surges thing, the leylines are being fucked with.

Batman: How can you tell?

Billy: Anyone with a connection to magic is also connected to The Leylines, their like magic radio towers, the signal naturally fluctuates every century that way everything stays in tune and doesn't clash.

Batman: What does this have to do with the Power?

Billy: That means the election magnetic waves electricity has clashes with the Laylines signals as well, Captain Marvel has a natural electrical field around him so I noticed it really quick.

Batman: So if we find the interference we fix the problem.

Billy: Yup.

Batman: Why did you come all the way here to tell me this?

Billy: I wanted to see my favourite little Robin.

Damian: I'M 2 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU DON'T TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD PEASEANT.

Billy: In your dreams, I'm here to see Tim.

Tim: Me why?

Billy: I need to borrow you for something since you're the smartest person I know.

Batman:.......

Dick: I think you hurt his feelings.

See the full post

1,257 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hot Take: Superman and Billy batson wouldn't like each other for a long time but after a while they become good friends, they'd fight a lot more than you'd expect cause Clark is like the only functional parent in the league and Billy doesn't vibe well with functional.

Billy wouldn't understand that Clark isn't undermining him but is only concerned for his wellbeing.

And Clark wouldn't understand that enough people have made it impossible for Billy to trust that narrative and the way he goes about it makes it worse.

1,955 notes - Posted March 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

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bxngchxn · 4 years ago

Text

Elevated || h.js

pairing: jisung x female!reader

wc: 2.85k

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, college!skz

warnings: explicit content, fingering (f recieving)

description: stuck in an elevator with the cute boy from science class? you’re curious as to how the situation will escalate.

a/n: i am so sorry i said i’d post this last night and i never did but i am here to make it up to you (also some other works coming soon! keep a look out)

send me an ask if you’d like to be on the tag list!

this is a work of fiction and not meant for anyone under the age of 18

You really hate Mondays.

They’re always the longest, and for some reason things happen to go incredibly wrong on the first day of the week. Always.

Waking up and realizing you only have 10 minutes to get dressed and get to class, running across campus seems to be the only option if you want to make it there on time. The professor is strict, and won’t let you in even if you’re only a minute late to class.

You ignore the weird looks you get from students as you sprint across campus, just wanting to make sure today doesn’t get any worse.

The door to your classroom is already shut, and you know that if you try to walk in now, you’re going to be yelled at by the professor and kicked out anyway. It’s not a surprise to you, with the morning you’ve had, you kind of expected things to continue downhill.

Now having some extra time to kill, you head to the school cafe for a cup of (desperately needed) coffee, and then the library for some extra studying for your anatomy class that you’re going to walk into within the next hour and a half. It was your hardest class, and easily the most stressful one as well.

Luckily, your study session went uninterrupted and with no hiccups. Looking at your watch and realizing you need to get moving, you stand up from your spot at the library table only for a student walking by to knock into you, spilling your remaining coffee on your shirt. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask in your head, telling the girl who ran into you that it was fine, and that you’re okay once she started apologizing profusely. Of course, now not only are you running late again, but you have a giant coffee stain on your shirt.

“Are you alright?” You hear someone chuckle next to you, and you look to your left and see Han Jisung, looking at you with concern but also a slight bit of humor in his eyes.

You’ve spoken to him a few times, the two of you sharing your anatomy class. He’s cute, you think, with his bright smile and energetic attitude. You also had a few mutual friends, Seungmin and Changbin, so you had heard more about him than you’ve actually spoken to him.

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m just fine. Thank you for asking,” you quip back, and he arches an eyebrow at you out of curiosity.

“Seems like someone rolled out the wrong side of the bed today,” he says, and it makes you pout. “What makes you say that?” you say while looking away from him grumpily. “No reason, just saw you sprinting through campus out the window this morning, plus you’re like..covered in coffee” he says nonchalantly, and it makes you want to smack him. You both need to get to class though, and the thought makes you groan. “Ugh there’s no way I’ll be able to get to my apartment and change in time..” you say to yourself, looking down at the giant coffee stain on your shirt.

“Here,” Jisung says, and you look up to see him taking off his hoodie and handing it to you. “Jisung I can’t, it’s really okay I’ll just change after class,” you tell him. He shakes his head, and shoves the hoodie into your hands. “I don’t want you to have to sit through class like that,” he says. You slip the hoodie on over your shirt, relishing in the scent of his cologne and how it makes your head spin just a little bit.

Not wanting the coffee to stain the inside of Jisung’s hoodie, you quickly maneuver your arms inside the oversized piece of clothing, and take your shirt off while making sure Jisung’s hoodie still covers you. Pulling your coffee stained shirt out from the neck hole of the hoodie, you look at Jisung who is staring at you with wide eyes. Before you can laugh at his state of shock, Jisung speaks up. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late!” He says, making his way towards the library exit.

You have no other choice but to follow him because he’s right, class is going to start and you’re not even in the science building. He notices you lingering behind and grabs your hand, leaving you completely shocked as he decides to take off once he steps foot outside, with you in tow. You try to keep up with him, stumbling over your feet while yelling at him to slow down, although it seems like he isn’t going to.

You make it inside the science building and book it up the stairs, praying that you’re not late. Seems as this time, luck is on your side. You and Jisung make it inside the classroom not thirty seconds before the professor does. The two of you exchange victory smiles, still catching your breath while the professor starts the lecture.

You tried to stay focused, but your eyes continued to wander towards Jisung every now and again. He managed to sit right where the sun was shining through the windows, and to put it quite frankly, his beauty was distracting. His tan skin seemed to be glowing, and he would bite his lip in concentration every now and again as he copied the notes from the board. Something about the way his lips looked made you want them against your own, and you were taken aback by your thoughts. You hadn’t even had a real conversation with him until two hours ago, and now you were thinking about kissing him? What is this feeling?

Your eyes move from focusing on his lips to his hands, watching the way they move as he takes notes. You can’t help but imagine what those hands would feel like on your body. His hoodie was warm enough, but you were sure his hands were something else.

You hear Jisung laugh quietly, and your eyes shoot up from their current focus to realize that Jisung had caught you staring at his hands. Your cheeks flush a bright red, and you turn your head back to the front of the classroom, hoping he’ll ignore it later.

“Well, thank god my classes are done for the day,” you say once you realize Jisung is waiting for you after lecture is over. Your cheeks are still a little pink, and you’re just waiting for the boy to make a joke about your obvious staring. Jisung laughs, too, and the sound makes you feel a little lighter. “Yeah I know right? Especially since the weather is getting cooler and I seem to have lost a hoodie,” he quips, and you playfully smack him on the arm. The playful smirk on his face sets something off inside of you, but you try and ignore it as much as possible.

“I told you I didn’t need it!” you say, and he shakes his head. “It’s alright, you don’t need to worry about it,” He insists, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “No, no I feel bad. Here, come to my place really quick? I’ll change out of this and throw my shirt in the wash so you can have this back,” you ask him. “Well, I think I have some time...” he says playfully. You roll your eyes and lead him in the direction of your apartment building.

On the walk to your apartment, you get to talk to Jisung more than you ever have before.You definitely regret not getting to know him sooner. The stories you’ve heard about him definitely don’t do him justice, either. He’s really quick witted-- able to make you laugh harder than you’ve laughed in awhile. Pair that with his soft brown eyes and his bright smile, he’s basically a knock out.

Once you reach your building, Jisung opens the door for you and it just adds to the tiny feelings you could sense growing in your stomach for this boy. You walk up to the elevator and press the call button, and the presence of Jisung behind you waiting for the elevator makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He was really, really close to you, and you could feel his warmth radiating off of him. Not to mention you were still wearing his hoodie, the smell of his cologne fogging your senses.

The doors open, and you step inside first, turning around to press the button to head to the 9th floor. Jisung follows, standing next to you and leaning against the rail behind him. It’s quiet, but comfortable.

That is, until you hear a weird noise coming from the elevator.

You look up at Jisung to see if he heard it too, and the way his grip tightens on the bar behind him doesn’t go unnoticed by you. The elevator shakes, slightly, and out of reflex you move to grab onto Jisung. His arm goes around your waist, pushing you to him while keeping a hand on the bar holding him steady. Just like you thought, the elevator shakes more strongly and then comes to a stop. The lights go off for a moment, but the backup lights come on almost immediately, bathing the small space in a soft, dull light.

You let go of the breath you were holding once you’re sure the elevator isn’t going to plummet 7 stories. Jisung feels you relax in his hold, and moves away slightly to look at you. “Are you okay?” He asks you for the second time today, except this time his voice is very clearly concerned. “Yes, I’m fine. What happened? How are we gonna get out of here?” You say, checking your phone and realizing you don’t have any cell service.

Jisung steps away from you, letting his arm fall from your waist. You miss the feeling of protection, but watch him anyway as he makes his way over to the elevator door. Taking a look through the gap, you hear Jisung mutter some curses under his breath. “Looks like we’re stuck between floors, which is why your phone isn’t working,” he says, trying to further inspect the situation.

“So what do we do then? Sit here and wait for someone to come save us?” You ask, eyes wide. He shrugs, and turns back to the door. “Hey! Can anyone hear us? We’re trapped in the elevator!” He shouts, and it’s quiet for a moment before a stranger’s voice is heard from a few feet above you.

“We heard the rattling of the elevator! We’ve called maintenance and fire, but they said it’s going to be about 20 minutes until they can get here. We hope you’re okay!” The voice says. Jisung nods his head and yells a thank you to the stranger before making his way back towards you in the small elevator.

You’re happy to know that help is on the way, but what if something happens before they get there? What if the elevator -does- decide to fall before they can get there? You don’t want to live out your final moments in your college apartment’s elevator.

You start to freak out a little bit, and Jisung can sense it. “We’re gonna be okay, you know that right? Help is on the way,” he says, and moves to take a seat on the floor. You join him, hoping it will calm your nerves even just a little. “Yeah, I just hate elevators..” you say, and he doesn’t answer you. You want to say the quiet is calming, but you can’t help the anxiety you feel in the pit of your stomach. You start picking at the carpet of the elevator out of nervousness, and Jisung takes notice.

He scoots a little closer to you and grabs your hand, the size difference of his hands compared to yours is almost baffling. You feel that blush rise up again, reminded of what happened in class earlier. Jisung is playing with your fingers absentmindedly, both of his hands grabbing at them and lightly pulling them in different directions, the pad of his thumbs smoothing over the back of your palm. You can’t look at him, too embarrassed for getting worked up at the gesture.

It seems like God is out to get you today, because Jisung laughs that teasing laugh of his again, and this time a finger under your chin brings your head up to make eye contact with him.

“Y’know, I was going to let it go earlier, but now I don’t think I can..You seem to be pretty fascinated with my hands, huh baby doll?” He asks confidently, and the tone of his voice makes you want to jump down the elevator shaft out of shyness. The new pet name brings those same feelings back to your stomach, and you’re at a loss for words. Jisung takes notice of this, and his smile turns from playful to something a little more serious.

‘Awe now why are you getting shy? You sure weren’t when you were checking me out in lecture earlier,” Jisung says, his tone condescending as he moves closer to you. “I promise, Y/N, I’m not going to bite. I mean, not unless you want me to,” he whispers. He’s not even an inch away from your face, and now you can’t seem to break eye contact with him. His hand moves from your jaw to the back of your neck. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me..” he insists, but you don’t even need to think twice. “I want it. I want you.” you say quietly, and that’s enough for him to close the distance and pull you on top of him.

Being seated on Han Jisung’s lap is nothing short of an out of body experience. His lips are soft against yours, nipping at your bottom lip and asking for entrance which you gladly grant him. The kiss is fast and passionate and full of tongues but neither of you seem to care. You can’t think of anything except that you were right; the feeling of his hands roaming your body is better than you could’ve imagined. By now your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling slightly every now and again and listening to the beautiful sounds of Jisung groaning against your lips.

“You are absolutely gorgeous,” he says, his fingers trailing to the button of your jeans. You busy yourself with moving your hands underneath his tshirt, his skin warm and soft under your fingers. You can feel the ridges of abs that you didn’t know existed, and as Jisung is whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you whine at the sensation of his fingers that have found their way into your underwear.

“You look so pretty like this for me,” Jisung continues, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit in slow circles as you whine at him. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself the moment you slipped this damn hoodie on. You look so small, baby.”

You’re sure that you’re going crazy the more that Jisung talks to you. In order to preserve even the tiniest bit of your sanity, you connect your lips to his once more. You hear him chuckle into the kiss, Jisung sensing your urgency as you grind down onto his fingers with a newfound energy.

“You really like my hands that much, huh? Gonna get off just on my fingers baby?” He asks once again, this time inserting a finger into your core. You moan at the new sensation, but Jisung isn’t having it. “Words, baby. Tell me how you’re feeling,” He orders, and something about his tone sends you up a wall. “S-so good Jisung.. I.. fuck,” you breathe out.

Jisung snaps back to reality for a moment and remembers: You’re on a time crunch. Maintenance could get the elevator back up and running at any moment. He adds another finger inside of you and quickens his pace at the same time. The speed has you reeling, the knot in your stomach tight but not quite ready to snap.

“I need you to cum for me baby, someone could walk in any minute. We don’t need anyone else seeing how much of a slut you are for my fingers alone, now do we? Or would you like that?” He asks, and the idea has you clenching around him. Jisung senses this, and laughs. “Something to keep in mind for another time,” he says to himself. You bury that comment at the back of your mind, focusing on the pleasure that’s rising in your core.

Once Jisung starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the combination of that and his fingers inside you has you arching your back. To Jisung, you are the most ethereal being on the planet right now; the soft light of the elevator highlighting your features, making you look oh so beautiful and almost unreal as your orgasm washes over you.

Jisung helps you ride out your high, your hips slowly coming to a stop as you begin to catch your breath. “Th-thank you, Jisung..” you say quietly, moving your hair out of your face. “Trust me, baby doll. The pleasure was all mine,” he chimes, and a small laugh leaves your lips as you finally gain your composure once again.

The two of you stay sitting like that for a few minutes, basking in the glow of this new found relationship until you hear voices a few feet above you again. “Hello? Are you alright in there? This is the fire department, we’re going to get you out of there, don’t worry.” The faint voice says. You both sigh in relief, Jisung’s arms falling around your waist once again.

It doesn’t take long for the elevator doors to be opened, and you’re both pulled up by the firemen who came to your rescue.

Once safe and sound, it doesn’t take long for you to pull Jisung into your apartment to make up for something very, very important, either.

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung smut #bxngchxn fics #skz smut

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